When health becomes a luxury

Hot take: "wellness" should be simple.

Move your body, eat nourishing food, rest, and connect with people who make you feel good. So why has wellness become less about being well and more about looking like you’re well? Preferably in an aesthetically pleasing gym outfit, holding an $18 smoothie in one hand and an insert trendy brand here sponsored protein bar in the other.

Much like the beauty industry, the internet has turned wellness into a lifestyle brand. The message is clear: if you want to be healthy, you need to invest. Not just your time or your energy – your moneyyyyyy. In the right sneakers (Hoka, preferably), the right gym membership (boutique, expensive, exclusive – Pilates is a plus), the right supplements (branded, trendy), and the right meals (low-cal, high-protein, preferably shot in perfect lighting).

And, of course, you’re not just doing this for yourself—you’re selling the process. Monetise your journey, launch a course, teach others how to also sell their process. Wellness, in this version, is no longer about feeling good. It’s about performing health in a way that’s aspirational and sellable.

But this version of wellness is fundamentally exclusionary.

It requires disposable income (and a lot of it), ample free time, and access to the right spaces. It frames health as an individual pursuit. And it ignores systemic barriers that make actual wellness difficult to achieve. Because no amount of branded collagen protein powder is going to fix the fact that most cities aren’t walkable, healthcare is too damn expensive, financial stress is a freaking health crisis in itself, and community spaces are vanishing in favour of high-end developments.

The wellness industry tells you to buy your way into a healthier life. But real wellness is about the conditions that allow people to thrive without having to hustle for it. Instead of chasing an expensive, hyper-curated version of health, what if we redefined wellness altogether? What if it looked like:

• Walkable, bike-friendly cities that encourage natural movement instead of forcing people to fit workouts into an already packed schedule?

• Affordable healthcare that prevents illness instead of treating it as a luxury?

• Financial literacy and stability, so people aren’t constantly in survival mode?

• Diverse, thriving communities where people feel safe, supported, and seen?

• Free, public green spaces where people can gather, move, and rest without spending money?

• A focus on collective care—because true wellness isn’t individual; it’s communal?

So, as brands, how do we shift the narrative? How do we challenge the hyper-commercialised version of wellness and push for something more accessible, more sustainable, and, frankly, more real?

• Centre access over aesthetics. Wellness isn’t about looking the part—it’s about feeling good. We need to celebrate and normalise wellness practices that don’t require disposable income.

• Don’t push “health” while ignoring systemic issues. If you’re selling wellness but not advocating for better working conditions, liveable wages, or healthcare access, you’re kinda missing the point.

• Prioritise collective well-being over individual optimisation. Instead of constantly focusing on self-improvement, what if we focused on improving conditions for everyone?

• Amplify voices that challenge the status quo. There are already activists, urban planners, and community leaders pushing for a more inclusive version of wellness… maybe let’s like… listen to them?

At its core, wellness should not be an industry.

It should be a right. A world where people can live well without needing a curated, expensive routine is not a utopian fantasy—it’s just fair. And while many brands will continue to package and sell us aspirational versions of health, we have the power to push for a reality where wellness isn’t just for the privileged few.

-Sophie, Writer