If you thought $1,000 for a shiny new iPhone was steep, try $50,000 for one with TikTok preinstalled. That’s right—TikTok, the app that gave us viral dances, DIY hacks, and questionable life advice, has turned ordinary iPhones into luxury collectibles. In the wake of the U.S. banning the app under the Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act, listings for “TikTok-loaded” iPhones are lighting up eBay with prices that make even Apple’s own jaw drop.
Take 27-year-old Max from Brooklyn, for example. After discovering his iPhone 16 still had TikTok installed, he posted it on eBay for $50,000.
“It’s like owning a piece of internet history,”
Max claimed in the listing. Whether anyone’s biting at these sky-high prices is another question, but the frenzy is real.
This wild iPhone gold rush has echoes of 2014, when iPhones with the defunct Flappy Bird game started selling for thousands. Back then, a sense of nostalgia—and FOMO—fueled that market. Now, it’s the fear of losing TikTok, the cultural juggernaut that reshaped how Gen Z communicates, trends, and, frankly, scrolls endlessly through life.
One listing features an iPhone 15 Pro Max priced at $3,500, a comparative bargain to Max’s $50,000 masterpiece. But the desperation to own one of these “cultural artifacts” seems to stem from more than nostalgia—it’s a status symbol for TikTok fans who refuse to see their For You Pages vanish into the void.
For creators, TikTok isn’t just a hobby—it’s a livelihood.
“Without TikTok, I lose access to my 2.3 million followers overnight,”
says Jenna, a beauty influencer from Los Angeles. Like Jenna, thousands of creators now face uncertainty about how to adapt, as rival platforms like Instagram Reels and YouTube Shorts scramble to fill the void. But ask any TikTok devotee: those platforms are fine, but they’re no TikTok.
Part of the app’s magic lies in its unique algorithm that turns ordinary users into viral stars and niche hobbies into mainstream obsessions. Losing that stage feels like a gut punch to creators who’ve built entire brands—and incomes—on TikTok’s unparalleled reach.
What’s driving this madness? A potent mix of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) and America’s love for scarcity. With TikTok gone, every preinstalled device becomes a nostalgic relic and a brag-worthy collectible. For Apple devotees, it’s also a chance to flex the ultimate fusion of two obsessions: their love for TikTok and their borderline worship of all things iPhone.
“If Instagram Reels is like your mom trying to be cool, TikTok is that effortlessly trendy friend,”
jokes 19-year-old Alyssa, who admits she’s scouring eBay for a TikTok-enabled iPhone.
Beyond the dances and memes, TikTok has been a platform for activism, self-expression, and trend-setting creativity. It’s where ideas catch fire, where young voices make waves, and where brands scramble to stay relevant. The ban isn’t just a tech story—it’s the shuttering of a digital stage that amplified millions of unique voices.
The market dynamics are simple: limited supply, massive demand. But what’s at stake is more profound. As TikTok fades from American phones, its users are desperately trying to hold on, turning their devices into priceless links to a bygone digital era.
Americans have always loved shiny gadgets and scarcity, but this takes it to a whole new level. From Flappy Bird to TikTok iPhones, we’ve proven one thing: we’ll pay big bucks to own a piece of fleeting digital history. Whether these TikTok-loaded iPhones are future artifacts or overpriced memes remains to be seen. But hey, if you’ve got $50,000 lying around, why not snag yourself an iPhone? Who needs rent anyway?
