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Forget Lipstick... The Economy's New Warning Sign Might Be a Squishy Dumpling

A few weeks ago, I was visiting my husband's office for lunch when I noticed his assistant walking down the hall, casually squeezing... a stick of butter.

At least, what appeared to be a stick of butter.

Naturally, I had questions. She laughed and informed me that it was a squeezable toy that looked (and smelled) just like butter. She called it her "emotional support butter."

Okay, then.

The following week, I noticed that several of the younger associates — mostly in their 20s — had little squishy dumplings sitting on their desks.

Then our nanny stopped by with a bamboo basket's worth of colorful dumplings for the boys. Turns out, they're sold in blind boxes, meaning you don't know which color you're getting until you open the package. She had bought six before finally finding the color she wanted.

Six dumplings. For one color.

Suddenly, I was seeing these things everywhere. When my boys and I stopped into our local comic book store this week, an entire aisle had been overtaken by squishable food — dumplings, butter, pastries, fruits, and all manner of tiny, rubbery things that looked like they belonged in a refrigerator rather than a toy store. Marla, who works behind the counter, told me the hype surrounding new squishy "drops" was unlike anything she'd ever seen.

According to market research firm Circana, Americans spent roughly $297 million on squishy toys in the first half of 2026, about four times what they spent during the same period last year.

Nearly $300 million. On things you squeeze.

The more I thought about this strange little craze, the more I wondered what it was saying about the way people spend their money. Then I saw the University of Michigan's latest consumer sentiment numbers, and it all started to make sense.

Is This the New Lipstick Indicator?

If you follow economic folklore, you've probably heard of the lipstick indicator. The idea is that in times of economic stress, people indulge in small purchases that provide an emotional uplift without breaking the budget.

The idea gained traction when Leonard Lauder, the former chairman of Estée Lauder, observed that his company's lipstick sales rose after the 2001 recession. Over the years, people have nominated other small luxuries as its successor. After the Great Recession, market research firm NPD Group reported that nail polish sales were up 65% since the first half of 2008, and the "nail polish index" was born.

Of course, there's a catch.

The lipstick index isn't an official economic indicator, and it hasn't been particularly reliable. During the 2008 downturn, lipstick sales actually fell 5.8%, according to research firm Kline & Company. And sometimes the next supposedly recession-proof treat turns out to be little more than a passing fad.

Still, I think Lauder was onto something. Maybe not about forecasting the economy, but certainly about understanding people.

Why $300 Million in Squishies Makes Sense Right Now

Consider what's happening with consumer confidence. According to the University of Michigan's preliminary October 2026 survey, its Consumer Sentiment Index fell to 46.3, down from 48.1 in September. The index measuring how Americans feel about current economic conditions dropped to 44.7, a record low.

Americans aren't exactly bubbling over with optimism, and it's not hard to see why. Housing is expensive. Groceries are expensive. Borrowing money is expensive.

That doesn't mean people have stopped spending. It means they're more selective. A $5,000 vacation might get reconsidered. A $50,000 car might get pushed another year.

But a $6 squishy dumpling?

That doesn't require a family budget meeting.

And squishies aren't practical. Their entire purpose is to make you feel good. They're soft, satisfying to squeeze, and, apparently, quite good at offering a tiny bit of stress relief.

I find that particularly interesting. The original lipstick indicator was about feeling better by looking better. A fresh lipstick could make you feel a little more polished, a little more confident, a little more put together.

The squishy craze feels different. It's less about how we present ourselves to the world and more about how we're feeling inside.

In 2026, perhaps we're not looking for a little more glamour.

Perhaps we're looking for something to squeeze while we contemplate the price of eggs.

Add the thrill of the hunt, and these toys become almost irresistible. Thanks to social media, limited releases, and blind boxes, you're not just buying a toy. You're buying the possibility of getting the toy you want.

Maybe you'll get the rare color. Maybe you'll find the one everyone on TikTok is talking about.

Maybe you'll have to buy six.

A Squishy Dumpling Can't Predict a Recession

Before we read too much into all this, let's acknowledge something: Sometimes a popular toy is just a popular toy.

Squishies are cheap, collectible, and practically designed for social media. Five Below, the discount chain whose net sales jumped 32.5% in the first quarter, credited "the overall squishy trend" for part of that strength. But the company had stocked its now-viral dumpling for about five years before it took off online. "We started seeing it pop up in social," CEO Winifred Park told analysts. "What we did was amplify what was becoming hot."

It's also worth looking at who's doing the buying. Circana's data on NeeDoh, the best-known squishy brand, found that 60% of purchasers were parents buying for their children, and kids ages 7 to 12 were the largest group of recipients. A toy mostly bought as a gift for a 9-year-old doesn't fit neatly into a theory about stressed-out adults consoling themselves.

But not everyone is buying for the kids. In the same data, 18.2% of NeeDoh purchasers were buying the toys for themselves. That's nearly one in five, and it's exactly the group I keep noticing. The assistant. The young associates. Our nanny.

So even if this craze tells us nothing about whether a recession is coming, it tells us something about how people respond to financial stress. They don't necessarily stop spending on happiness. They start looking for happiness they can afford. And frankly, that's not a bad instinct. At least, not always.

There's Nothing Wrong With a Little Emotional Support Butter

I'm a personal finance writer. I spend an awful lot of time talking about budgeting, saving, and investing. But I'm also a human being, and sometimes I buy things simply because they make me happy.

Money is a tool. Its purpose isn't exclusively to fund some distant version of your life where you're finally allowed to enjoy yourself. A good financial plan should make room for little pleasures now.

The trouble starts when our little treats become a habit we don't really notice. A $6 dumpling is hardly going to derail your retirement. But six of them? That's $36. Do that every week, and you've spent $1,872 in a year — before counting the coffees, the impulse buys at Target, and everything we added to our Amazon carts because we were bored.

I don't bring this up to make anyone feel guilty. Quite the opposite. Being intentional about these purchases makes them more enjoyable. Here's how I'd approach it.

Give yourself permission to have a little fun money. Whether it's $100 a month or $500, depending on your finances, designate some money that's yours to spend however you please. No guilt. No justification required. It just needs to fit within your larger financial plan.

Pay attention to whether you're buying the thing or chasing the feeling. There's a difference between seeing a squishy dumpling, loving it, and buying it — and buying six blind boxes because you're convinced the next one will finally be the right color. The first is a treat. The second might be an expensive way to chase a little dopamine.

Make sure the things you're buying actually make you happy. How many times have you bought something because it was trendy, only to lose interest almost immediately? The best little luxuries aren't the ones everyone else is buying. They're the ones you genuinely enjoy.

What America's Squishy Obsession Really Tells Us

I have no idea how long the squishy craze will last. Maybe by Christmas, the dumplings will be forgotten at the bottom of our junk drawers. But there's something rather endearing about the people I know who have embraced these ridiculous little toys. We're all trying to navigate a world that feels expensive, unpredictable, and occasionally overwhelming. Sometimes a tiny, squishable piece of pretend food makes the day a little better.

I wouldn't make investment decisions based on the contents of a toy store. But there's a financial lesson hiding beneath all that rubbery nonsense: Being good with money doesn't mean denying yourself every little pleasure. It means knowing which pleasures are worth paying for, giving yourself room to enjoy them, and making sure they aren't getting in the way of the bigger things you want.

And if your financial plan is in good shape and a $6 stick of emotional support butter genuinely brightens your workday?

Well.

I can think of worse ways to spend six bucks.