I'm a Trend Reporter, and Here Are 10 Trends I'm Officially Ready to Say Goodbye to in 2025

Influencers were once digital pocket friends we all felt we could DM for advice. Now? They’ve transformed into unattainable lifestyle empires we can only scroll past and envy. The Kardashians—once relatable for their chaotic closeness (and occasional ugly crying)—are now lounging in private jets while wearing custom Schiaparelli lion’s heads. There’s also Hallie Batchelder, the newest addition to the Unwell network, who lackadaisically recaps nights spent at Zero Bond (crediting her dad’s black card for entry). It’s not to say that these people aren’t entertaining—Batchelder certainly brings a new personality to the space. But in 2024, the gap between influencers and their followers has widened to the point where even “casual” nights out feel like a reminder that we’re too broke to leave the house. As a result, we’re left watching lives we can’t touch, buy into or even aspire to have one day.

Instead, try: Following creators who feel like a slice of real life—think the Millenials re-enacting 2005 or the single mothers showing us how to make dollar tree dinners. Authenticity, not opulence, is what we’re craving now.

For the past few years, green has endured as the design world’s it color. From the early adoption of “Bottega Green” to the obsession with green kitchen cabinets, the hue has worn many hats (sometimes rebellious, other times luxurious). This year, however, the shade seemed to reach its height. Bratcore summer—inspired by Charli XCX’s album art—made the Fourth of July feel more like Nickelodeon’s Slimetime. Meanwhile, Elphaba green had its moment this winter, as Wicked’s buzz brought her emerald hue into fashion and beauty palettes alike. The problem? When two cultural phenomena collide, oversaturation is inevitable. What started as a cheeky rejection of the hyper-feminine turned into an excuse to slap chartreuse on everything from eye shadow to purses and call it a trend. And when brands pile on (hello, fast fashion), the charm fades faster than Elphaba’s broomstick streaking across Oz.

Instead, Try: ‘Rich Auntie’ browns. The 2025 Colors of the Year lean into understated sophistication, with shades like burlwood, sepia and tobacco brown taking center stage. They’re rich, they’re earthy, and they feel timeless enough to create the perfect capsule wardrobe. 

If there’s one beauty trend we’re leaving behind in 2024, it’s the overfilled, ultra-defined look of cheek and lip injections. Razor-sharp cheekbones and ballooned lips, once the hallmark of “Instagram face,” now feel as outdated as the heavy contour kits that came with them. IMO, this shift is partly thanks to the quiet influence of Ozempic. With the injectable weight loss drug gaining popularity, some stars are not only slimming down but redefining their facial structures in ways that make filler-heavy cheeks and lips look jarring in comparison. Adding to this transformation, many celebrities have started dissolving their fillers altogether. Stars like Courtney Cox and Kristin Davis have openly shared their journeys of reversing overdone cosmetic enhancements, citing a desire for a softer, more natural look. Even the Kardashians—the blueprint for this aesthetic—have quietly embraced a more understated vibe, trading exaggerated contours for subtle, balanced features. 

Instead, try: Leaning into treatments that emphasize hydration and natural beauty, like skin-tightening facials or a delicate lip flip. Next year is going to be all about the rise of “is-she-or-isn’t-she” beauty—subtle enough to make people wonder, but never obvious enough to tell.

Let the slew of internet hype surrounding Luigi be a learning lesson. At first, you want to be informed. You want to understand how terrible things happen. Or, how a person could do something so horrifying. But as true crime podcasts and shows became more ubiquitous, the lines started to blur: At what point are some of these series exploiting victims or fetishizing murder? Or making you unnecessarily anxious and paranoid about the world around you? And how many takes on The Menendez Brothers and JonBenét Ramsey does the world need, anyway?

Instead, try: Black Doves, a show where Keira Knightley stars as a badass spy who gets tangled up in a steamy affair. It provides the adrenaline rush and control associated with our love of true crime (because what says take back the power more than Knightley as a spy?).

Sticking with the theme of TikTok (which might be out itself, thanks to the potential ban), its obsession with hyper-specific “-core” aesthetics—from balletcore to cabincore to Rom-Com core—has spiraled into overconsumption territory. What started as a fun way to reinvent yourself every few months has become a relentless algorithm-fueled cycle of buying. One week, you’re hunting for the perfect Meg Ryan-inspired blazer; the next, it’s all about recreating a coastal grandmother aesthetic with chunky knits and ballet flats. Not to mention the rise of unnecessary Amazon finds—like Stanley tumbler snack trays—which somehow made us believe we needed a full picnic setup attached to a water bottle. The pressure to keep up feels less like self-expression and more like a crash course in consumerism. Closets overflow with yesterday’s viral pieces that no longer fit the moment—or our personal style—and we’re convinced to splurge on items (we definitely don’t need). Frankly, our budgets—and closets—just can’t take it anymore.

Instead, try: Stepping off the trend treadmill and refocusing on timeless staples you already own (think: suede jackets). TikTok’s better advice lies in reimagining your wardrobe, not replacing it—because true style isn’t dictated by an algorithm, but by how you make it your own.

The bixie haircut—part pixie, part bob—was hot this year, offering a “cool girl” alternative to predictable long locks. It was playful, nostalgic and low-maintenance, with layers inspired by icons like Winona Ryder and Meg Ryan. Likewise, we saw an uptick of bitty bangs, which were delicate micro-fringes that barely dust the forehead. Both looks embodied effortless rebellion, but as the trends gained momentum, their wearability wore thin. The bixie’s edgy appeal became watered down by overexposure, while bitty bangs teetered dangerously close to impractical (hello, awkward grow-out phase). What started as a statement about individuality morphed into yet another cookie-cutter aesthetic dominating our feeds. 

Instead try: The Italian Bob. This chic, bottom-heavy cut is effortlessly glamorous (and timeless with New Yorkers for a reason). Sitting just above the shoulders, it’s perfect for any texture, offering easy styling with volume, shine and ruffled elegance. 

Intentional dating became a buzzword post-pandemic, born out of isolation and an endless supply of time to self-reflect. With no happy hours or casual flings to distract us, we made checklists of our ideal partners—ambitious, communicative, aligned with our values. It was a hopeful exercise in narrowing the herd while swiping our way through loneliness. Yet, as we’ve clung to this trend four years later, intentionality has morphed into rigidity. Those lists, once tools of clarity, have become non-negotiable blueprints that leave little room for spontaneity. Instead of embracing the messy, unpredictable magic of connection, we’ve started ruling people out for minor flaws or mismatched bullet points. Ironically, this hyper-focused approach has created a culture of emotional tunnel vision, where chemistry and curiosity are sacrificed in the name of finding someone who checks every box.

Instead, try: Dating between the linest. While shared values and intentional choices are important, true connection often lies in the unexpected. Leave space for the kind of chemistry you can’t plan for—because sometimes, the best relationships are the ones you never saw coming.

It was cozy. It was neutral. It was everywhere. By 2024, tone-on-tone bouclé was all I’d see on my Instagram Explore page. Cream-colored sofas, ivory throws and matching nubby armchairs brought a cohesive, ‘layered’ look. But like all good things, the bouclé everywhere craze seems to be coming to an end. The cozy minimalism now feels more like living inside a marshmallow; soft, safe and entirely forgettable. What was once considered refined now feels like an uninspired sea of sameness. Worse still? The impracticality. Anyone who’s spent hours scrubbing stains out of their beloved bouclé sofa (only to find it still looks dingy) knows this trend’s time is up.

Instead try: Pattern drenching. Swap out your monochromatic palette for bold, layered textures—think stripes over florals, velvet paired with burlwood and wallpapered rooms where drapes match the walls in a “so wrong it’s right” kind of way.

We’ve covered these terms a lot at PureWow, and frankly, it’s reaching the point of semantic satiation—overuse to the point of losing its meaning. What began as tools to identify toxic behavior spiraled into catch-all accusations for everyday conflicts. A friend forgetting a detail? “Gaslighting.” A confident coworker? “Narcissist.” Our new obsession with labeling every minor misstep or boundary-setting moment makes it impossible to have nuanced conversations. What’s most ironic is phrases like, “You’re gaslighting me!” are now being weaponized to, well, gaslight others. It’s become a trend that doesn’t just trivialize serious issues—it erodes our ability to engage with emotional complexity. Not every disagreement is gaslighting, and not every difficult person is a narcissist, but pop psychology made it easy to avoid accountability by throwing these terms around.

Instead, try: Radical candor and emotional intelligence. Next year, let’s focus on honest, compassionate communication and reserve these terms for when they truly apply. Connection requires more than labels—it takes understanding and effort.

First, it was espresso martinis. Then came the negroni sbagliato (with prosecco, of course). By 2024, the “drink of the year” culture hit peak absurdity with mezcal martinis, clarified piña coladas and buttered bourbon hot toddies dominating our social feeds. The problem? Drinks stopped being about taste or personal preference and became an exercise in performative ordering. Cocktails turned into status symbols, where the constant churn of trendy beverages left us second-guessing our go-to orders. Was an Aperol spritz too 2022? Were picklebacks still ironic? It gave way to a strange cocktail elitism. (Meanwhile, bartenders rolled their eyes as they perfected the frothy espresso martini foam for the umpteenth time that night.) The cycle of chasing the next viral libation became exhausting, making us nostalgic for a simpler time when drinks were chosen for the mood, not the algorithm.

Instead, try: Ordering for you. Skip the trending tags and lean into what you actually enjoy, whether that’s a smoky mezcal margarita, a classic gin and tonic, or even a nostalgic Cosmopolitan. (I don’t care what SATC haters say—the latter is always in style.)