WHY DO YOU FIND YOURSELF LEANING TOWARDS THAT
BUTTER YELLOW NAIL POLISH
WHEN YOU'RE NOT A FASHION TREND ENTHUSIAST?​
May 5, 2025
by Mai El Mokadem
Even the most “trend-immune” among us catch the cultural current.
There you were, minding your business, living your neutral-nail life, when suddenly: butter yellow. It’s on TikTok. It’s on your explore page. It’s on that one girl who always seems like she just walked out of a Kiko Milano campaign but is also somehow your friend’s cousin. And now, against your better judgment — and despite your claims that you “don’t really follow trends” — you’re sitting at the salon pointing to a screenshot captioned “butter yellow is the new clean girl beige.”
The surge of ‘butter yellow’ is part of a bigger conversation. About how we consume trends, even when we say we’re not paying attention. About how TikTok girls in Berlin and Gen Zs in Downtown Cairo somehow agree on aesthetics faster than fashion week ever could.
These days, fashion’s “soft propaganda” works on social media in ways that marketers years ago could have never predicted. From TikTok micro-aesthetics like “sunshinecore” to the soft launch of dopamine dressing’s return, butter yellow becomes less about colour and more about cultural osmosis.
But here’s the thing—being “not into trends” is no longer the buffer zone it once was. Because in 2025, trends aren’t just runway-declared or influencer-ordained—they seep through the cracks. They’re in your For You Page, in your explore tab, and yes, in that very specific Pinterest board you swore you only opened for “June vacation fit inspo”.
Welcome to the Pinterest-to-TikTok pipeline—a magical place where butter yellow goes from background accent to main character.
The aesthetic used to be tucked into mood boards titled “sun-drenched summer” or “Italian grocery-core,” but now it’s in your cart, on your nails, and—if TikTok has anything to say about it—in your next outfit flat lay.
The irony? The butter yellow trend isn’t alone in its sneak attack. Just like ballet flats clawing their way back from the 2010s graveyard and into your weekly Zara browse, or like that big red hair bow you wore “as a joke” has now made three public appearances.
The current trend cycle in 2025 is less about conscious choice and more about slow-burn exposure. You’re not copying the girls on your feed, you’re simply absorbing. You see it once, then again, then in a GRWM video, then in your friend’s tagged photo— and suddenly, it feels like a personal idea. An “I’ve always liked that” moment.
But let’s rewind for a second: where do trends actually start? Who decided that butter yellow was going to be a thing in the first place? Traditionally, trends originated in the rarefied air of fashion institutions, like forecasting agencies like WGSN or Trendstop, creative directors at legacy houses, and color councils and institutions like Pantone that literally pick “the shade of the year.” These decisions trickle into runway collections six months early, then show up in lookbooks, moodboards, and stylists’ racks before even touching the mass market. But that old top-down model? It’s shifted.
Before butter yellow ever hit your feed, it likely passed through the hands of a handful of those key players, working seasons ahead of the consumer curve. The color institutes release reports that inform everything from luxury collections to fast fashion palettes, and trend forecasting agencies work with brands to predict emerging moods based on cultural shifts, global events, and aesthetic data.
Designers pick up on these cues and reinterpret them through their collections — Jacquemus might send it down the runway as a silk halter, while Bottega wraps it into a leather bag. From there, editors, stylists, and buyers become the second wave of gatekeepers, shaping what hits retail floors and press previews. It’s only after that that influencers — from fashion editors’ protégés to micro-creators on TikTok — carry the trend into the algorithm’s bloodstream.
Today, the cycle is less linear and more of a feedback loop. From runway to influencer to micro-influencer to TikTok’s hyper-niche corners, trends get stretched, remixed, and re-contextualized until no one remembers who wore it first. A shade might show up on a Paris Fashion Week runway, but it only becomes real once it’s filtered through a GRWM reel, a Zara dupe, or a Pinterest girl holding a lemon tart in golden-hour lighting. Brands still plant the seeds — but the crowd decides how (and how far) it grows.
And once it’s in motion, it moves fast. Because it goes past fashion and daily outfit choices. It’s colour psychology. Micro-influencers. It’s that girl in a random Amsterdam cafe wearing an oversized cream set with a butter yellow claw clip, and you thinking, “Hmm.”
That’s the pipeline at work. You don’t adopt a trend, you get nudged into it. Subconsciously. Repeatedly.
So maybe you’re not a trend follower. Maybe you’re just really good at keeping up without trying. And maybe, just maybe, butter yellow found you, not the other way around.