Understanding trends

In my thoughts on timeless design, I touched on trends and said I’d come back to them. So here I am.

But don’t worry—this won’t be another list of “trends for 2026.” It’s more an attempt to understand what trends actually are, how they work, and how to approach them—not only in design, but in general.

When we talk about trends, we usually mean something that’s popular at the moment. Something people wear, something everyone is doing, something that seems to appear everywhere at once. We think of trends in terms of style or aesthetics. Something that will soon be replaced by the next thing.

But that’s only a fragment of the whole process—the moment when something breaks into the mainstream and starts being widely replicated.

Seen more broadly, a trend is a process in which certain behaviors, ideas, or solutions gradually gain significance.

It usually begins outside the mainstream—in smaller groups, where so-called trendsetters are the first to adopt and test new styles, ideas, or products.

Their behavior is picked up by others, who adapt it and pass it on. Not every signal lasts. But if it starts to resonate more widely and continues to be reinforced, it moves beyond its initial group—into the mainstream, where it begins to spread at scale.

Depending on scale and duration, this process can take different forms.

At one end are fads—short-lived trends. They appear quickly, often with high intensity, and disappear just as fast. They’re usually built on superficial elements—style, aesthetics, a single behavior—and don’t come from a deeper shift. Examples: Labubu, NFTs.

Further along are trends in a more classic sense. They last longer, have a broader reach, and are rooted in real change—in needs, technology, or culture. They don’t fade as quickly, because they respond to something that is actually shifting. A good example is minimalist design, which returns in different forms but consistently responds to a need for simplicity and clarity.

At the other end are megatrends—processes that unfold over years, sometimes decades. They don’t concern individual products or aesthetics, but entire systems. They shape how we live, work, and design. One example is the digitalization of everyday life.

Regardless of scale, the mechanism remains similar—only the pace, reach, and longevity change.

Behind this mechanism, there’s something else—how we respond to trends as people. Why do some of them spread so quickly, and why do we give in to them so easily?

As humans, we’re wired to connect, to imitate, and to belong. When we’re unsure, we look to others. We adopt their choices because it helps us orient ourselves and build relationships. Trends become a kind of signal of what’s accepted and desirable.

But these are just our natural mechanisms.

The other part is the environment we operate in. Algorithms don’t create trends, but they amplify what starts to gain attention. They increase visibility, shorten the distance between “I see” and “I repeat,” and make something that once spread over months now move within days, sometimes hours.

All of this makes resisting trends far from simple. It requires conscious effort, because when something is current, it quickly becomes the default. Popular products and services start to be promoted, pushing everything else out of view—anything that doesn’t fit the current trend.

At this point, it’s easy to think that following trends does more harm than good. I see it a bit differently.

For me, it’s not really about trends themselves, but about how we approach them. The question isn’t whether to follow trends or not, but which ones are meaningful and worth paying attention to—and which to consciously let go.

Some things appear and disappear without much significance. It’s hard to see them as anything more than a short-lived impulse.

But there are also those that last longer. They come from real shifts—in technology, in the way we live. They solve actual problems and offer something more than just a change in style. Ignoring them often simply means falling behind.

That’s why I try to look at trends through my own filter. If something resonates with me, feels like it could serve me over time, and aligns with my values—I go with it. If not, I let it pass. Even if, in the short term, it might bring some benefits.

I don’t feel a strong need to follow trends. But I wouldn’t call myself a contrarian either. It’s not about going against the grain or making a statement. I’m more interested in finding a balance—somewhere between trends, personal taste, values, and longevity (timelessness).

In design, I approach it in a similar way, but here everything depends more on context. My personal values and preferences still matter, but they move to the background. The leading role is played by the project’s strategy—what it’s meant to do and how long it’s supposed to last.

Not all projects have the same nature. Some are meant to last over time. Others are more temporary and allow for greater flexibility. In those cases, trends can play a much bigger role.

But even in more durable projects, there’s still room for them.

The foundations—like structure, the way something works, or the brand’s language—usually stay stable over time. But there are also more changeable layers: the visual language, interface details, the way something communicates. And that’s where there’s space for experimentation and for the influence of what’s happening right now.

I treat trends as a tool, and I use them with some caution. I don’t apply a style just because it’s currently popular. I reach for it when I see that it adds something to the project—improves how it’s perceived, helps communicate more clearly, or simply fits the context.

A trend-based solution shouldn’t be the foundation of a project. It can enrich it, but it shouldn’t define it.

But trends aren’t only about style. They also carry signals about how behaviors are changing—what people expect, what they’re getting used to, what starts to feel natural. In fact, the less they’re about style or aesthetics, the more value they tend to bring to a project.

Trends are present in almost every part of our lives. They shape what we see as normal, desirable, and valuable. They influence our decisions, the way we think, and how we live—often in ways we don’t even notice.

That’s why I see distinguishing between them as an important and useful skill—not just in design, but in everyday life.

Not everything that’s new and visible carries real value. Some things appear and disappear without much meaning. Others come from deeper shifts and, over time, begin to shape how we actually function.

For me, it comes down to a few questions. Is there a real change behind a trend—in technology, behavior, or needs—or just visibility and timing? Does it solve something concrete, or just look good? Does it only work in its own context, like social media, or does it make sense beyond it? And finally—does it fit me and what matters to me?