For fashion brands in China, Xiaohongshu (also known as RED) is the one platform you simply cannot afford to neglect—especially when budgets are tight. In recent years, even as brands scale back events, shrink seasonal campaigns, and make more cautious ambassador picks, investments in Xiaohongshu have only continued to grow.
That’s because Xiaohongshu still holds the promise of high ROI—if you know how to work it. Yet the platform’s vague and opaque traffic system, which blends paid and organic content in unpredictable ways, makes it one of the hardest for brands to master.
So how are brands adapting?
Longchamp has leaned into personalization—an evergreen interest across consumer segments—by promoting its bespoke bag service as the star of its Xiaohongshu store. The user experience is intuitive and interactive, allowing nearly every part of the bag to be customized. This feature, simple as it may be, has triggered genuine enthusiasm among shoppers and driven spontaneous sharing, effectively turning satisfied customers into brand advocates and fueling a loop of goodwill and visibility.
In a sea of trend-chasing content, Cartier stands apart by doing the opposite. It is arguably the only hard luxury brand that has maintained a coherent visual identity on Xiaohongshu. Whether promoting festival collections like 520 or focused product pushes such as the Santos watch, Cartier carefully selects content creators who reflect its brand tone. Its visual language—clean, restrained, and emotionally resonant—evokes the dual allure of timeless luxury and intimate storytelling.
Adidas Originals choose to build a movement, not a moment.
Adidas Originals has taken Xiaohongshu by storm—not with celebrity endorsements, but by tapping into the power of ordinary users. Since April, users have been asking: “Is Adidas sponsoring every regular girl on Xiaohongshu?” Under the hashtag #三叶草女孩 (“Three-Stripes Girl”), a growing wave of content has emerged—not from mega-influencers, but from micro-creators with just a few hundred or thousand followers.
Their posts don’t follow the playbook of polished brand content. They’re raw, chatty, emotional—and that’s precisely what makes them work. Comments aren’t filled with glowing praise, but with genuine back-and-forths about styling tips, where to shop, and how the outfits fit into everyday life. The energy feels real—and it’s contagious.
The results? Between March and August, the hashtag’s views jumped from 210 million to 360 million. What began as a themed campaign has evolved into a key brand asset, with thrift shops even joining the conversation by posting about the retro styling and history of classic Adidas pieces.

Adidas even hosted a dedicated dinner party for “Three-Stripes Girls” in early August, bringing together regular users, athletes, and influencers. On display were not just outfits, but brand values—strength, diversity, and authenticity—embodied by each woman’s unique take on sporty, feminine dressing.
For years, fashion influencers were Xiaohongshu’s golden ticket. But today, their impact is waning. As influencer marketing becomes more industrialized—with MCN (multi-channel networks) recruiting and training creators at scale—content has become faster, prettier, and more optimized… but often, less heartfelt.
In the first eight months of 2024, the number of MCNs on Xiaohongshu more than doubled. The result: creators who can mass-produce trendy looks across all styles, but who no longer seem to express a genuine connection to what they wear. And audiences notice. Even the most high-production campaigns now draw comments about feeling “scripted” or “empty.”
Without real passion or perspective, even top-tier influencers lose their power to sway. For brands, that means higher spending for weaker results—and a fragile foundation of trust.
In contrast, ordinary users—unburdened by contracts, KPIs, or branding constraints—bring fresh ideas, quirky styling, and unfiltered enthusiasm. Their creativity, rooted in real life rather than content calendars, delivers the “one product, a thousand looks” effect that brands dream of.
This is especially critical in categories like fashion, where individuality is everything. It’s also why Adidas’s grassroots push has been so effective—not only in engagement metrics, but also in business terms. In its H1 2025 earnings report, Adidas cited a 13% growth in Greater China. And for Originals, the brand highlighted both heritage models and newer tech-forward silhouettes as drivers of success.
Despite its murky traffic system, Xiaohongshu remains unmatched in its ability to shape youth-driven fashion trends in China. Its audience skews young, female, and highly engaged. But for brands to truly win here, they must return to the platform’s founding principle: everyone is a creator.
This doesn’t mean abandoning paid campaigns—but it does mean revisiting the basics of why people share: joy, curiosity, and connection.
The success of the “Three-Stripes Girl” campaign proves that sincerity still wins over showmanship. In a content landscape where everyone’s competing for attention, realness is now the most valuable brand currency.
And for brands with long-term ambitions in China, that may be the only “secret” worth knowing.