Why tf did Doja Cat just eat her lipstick at the VMAs?

Because she’s a genius. That’s why.

And, because she’s the new ambassador for MAC Cosmetics. But mostly because, in her words, she was “desperate for a snack”. This chaotic little stunt may just be the best celebrity endorsement of the year. Not because it sold the product, though I would absolutely love to see those sales numbers. But because it sold a moment, a cultural hit that no polished campaign could have bought no matter how many millions were pumped into it.

The stunt is ridiculous. Eating lipstick is ridiculous. That’s the point.

Traditional endorsements: smile, apply, look perfect, booooo. Boring. They are overcurated, filtered, approved by committees, aaaand mostly ignored. Doja Cat did what she does so well: flipping the script. The absurdity signals: this isn’t a corporate product push. This is me, chaotic, performative, and entertaining. And in a social media landscape addicted to authenticity theatre, ridiculousness reads as real.

The lipstick itself barely matters. It could have been chocolate, cake frosting, freaking Play-Doh, the viral effect would have been the same. Marketers obsess about product placement, visual aesthetics, and celebrity alignment. Doja Cat shows us that the spectacle, the story people talk about, is more powerful than the item being sold. It’s a shift that reflects the times: consumers are less swayed by polished perfection and more by spectacle, absurdity, and shareable content. When the internet responds with memes, TikToks, and Twitter commentary, the stunt achieves a kind of algorithmic immortality no paid campaign could buy.

We all know that memes are the new ROI.

The stunt, of course, generated thousands of posts within minutes. Clips, GIFs, tweets, TikToks: the content replicates itself, and the audience becomes a co-producer. Marketing has always sought “earned media", it's nothing new. But in the attention economy, moments like this are the holy grail: they’re free, viral, and culturally sticky. And it’s not just about virality for virality’s sake. It’s about cultural footprint.

Because Doja Cat isn’t selling lipstick. She’s asserting her persona as playful, irreverent, and untouchable, a brand narrative more valuable than any product endorsement. We’re entering an era where the performance around a product is often more important than the product itself. Influencer theatre thrives on absurdity, risk, and spectacle. From the “girl dinner” TikTok trend to viral stunts like this one, the pattern is clear: the story is the product.

This isn’t to say all brands should encourage eating cosmetics (please don’t).

The key takeaway is strategic absurdity: create moments that feel unscripted, culturally relevant, and perfectly aligned with the persona of whoever is endorsing the product. The internet is more likely to amplify the personality than the item.

Lessons for marketers:

• Risk = reward: culturally risky, bizarre, or irreverent stunts get attention—but only if they feel authentic.

• Story beats product: the story, meme, or moment is often far more valuable than what you’re technically selling.

• Amplify shareability: design for reaction, conversation, and meme potential, not just a glossy ad.

• Align with persona: if it doesn’t fit the celebrity’s persona or brand voice, the stunt feels forced, not viral.

Doja Cat’s stunt is a microcosm of the future of marketing.

Absurdity, performance, and virality outweigh traditional advertising. Consumers crave entertainment, chaos, and personality more than ever. In a feed clogged with polished perfection, the bold, the messy, the edible-on-stage becomes irresistible. Marketing used to be about placement, impressions, and repetition. Now, it’s about creating moments that refuse to be ignored. And if that moment involves literally eating a lipstick on live TV? Well, then we’ve truly entered the era of attention as the ultimate currency.

Doja Cat sold not only MAC, but the spectacle of the “cultural moment". For marketers, that’s worth more than any tube of rouge. 

-Sophie Randell, Writer