Wellness Culture is for the Rich and White
*banner image by rachel murray/getty images
Wellness culture exists exclusively for rich white people. Point blank period.
Before you start disagreeing with me, hold on and let me explain.
The classic definition of wellness from the Oxford Dictionary is 'the state of being in good health, especially as an actively pursued goal'. At face value, this sounds like a healthy goal, even one that I as a healthcare professional would encourage the pursuit of. However, wellness, as it is marketed now is not exactly about health or improving health outcomes. It seems to be more about appropriating cultural practices, spending obscene amounts of money on 'spiritual retreats' and of course, diet culture. One of the truths of our capitalist society is that wellness is essentially a luxury. The amount of money, time and resources you need to have to be fully devoted to the wellness complex is astronomical. A full commitment to the life of week-long wellness retreats, jade eggs, and a 'clean' way of living is not attainable for the majority of the world's population. As Marisa Meltzer outlined in an article for The Cut, wellness is often a luxury in and of itself in modern societies, given the time and money required to acquire and maintain it.
Luxury used to be defined by things. It was about the designer handbags, the monogrammed two-piece outfits and the fabrics/ prints we have come to associate with specific fashion houses. Nowadays, these things are a little more accessible to us normies, you don't have to be uber-rich to own a designer handbag or to look like you own one. You can rent one, borrow your friend's or put the expense on your credit card [please don't do that]. Something you can't borrow or successfully fake your way into though is the exclusivity and expenses that come with wellness culture. It's the new Hermes Birkin. A year of regular SoulCycle classes or an appointment with an exclusive enough doctor or even a new designer workout outfit can cost you just as much if not more than a Chanel bag.
Nowadays, the idea of luxury reaches far beyond what is tangible. It has come to encompass mental health, poreless skin, self-care and an individual's emotional wellbeing. Think about it, the amount of time that I as a person with no children or dependents can carve out for self-care practices is so much more than what the parents of a toddler or infant can. The same is true comparing both of us to someone with the money to hire a nanny, a housecleaner or a cook. There is nothing wrong with having the money to buy back your time, and I aspire to be there at some level one day. I do however resent the assumption that those without the time or money to invest in 'wellness' and self-care practices are either not good at taking care of themselves or don't want to.
One of the newer iterations of commodifying wellness with luxury branding is the "that girl" aesthetic from TikTok. This girl is the spiritual lovechild of Gwyneth Paltrow and the girl bosses of the past. She isn't just a health and fitness nut, she is highly successful, the envy of every woman she meets and looks perfectly put together all the time. She sports the 'clean' makeup look, has a fresh manicure and wakes up every morning at 5:30 so she can seize the day. Outside of the fact that this aesthetic is racially homogenous and seems to only highlight slim bodies, the sheer amount of time and resources needed to execute some of these practices, read: perfecting homemade matcha, doing her yoga routine and then of course sharing all these picture-perfect moments with her thousands of social media followers. This elaborate meld of self-care and wellness practices may only be helpful in a performative, fake it till you make it way but for some people that might genuinely be worth it. The price of things like this is only too high for those who can't afford it.
This like far too many wellness culture aesthetics and ventures has a rather insidious other side. Modern wellness culture has a habit of 'borrowing' practices and beliefs from black and brown cultures then relabeling them to make a profit. I grew up with kale, most southern African people did. So you can imagine my surprise when kale was suddenly touted as the new superfood by white health gurus everywhere. Unfortunately, this popularity led to a price increase on what had been a staple vegetable in my family's diet. This is not an uncommon or rare instance. Kale is not the only victim of 'wellness washing'. Turmeric. Crystals. Matcha. Yoga. All these things [and many others] have at one point been 'discovered' by western health gurus then whitewashed and eventually been made largely inaccessible. Not only have the cultural roots of these products been lost in this process, but the target demographic for these things has also been changed significantly. It has now become trendy to leave the hustle and bustle of the corporate world for the chance to train as a mindset coach, a yoga teacher or a healer. I am a huge advocate of career pivots when they make sense but please ponder with me, do many people have enough money for this to even be a feasible option? Additionally, I can almost guarantee that the people opting more and more for these career paths are not people of colour which I do have a slight problem with. Will Williams, the founder of Beeja meditation centre in London, thinks it's a fine line. "It's not a bad thing that people are trying to help others and share knowledge, but when money is prioritised over the wellbeing, integrity or history of a practice, there has to be a dedication to that culture."
The faces of these health practices are starting to not resemble the cultural roots of their originators at all. I don't have a problem with diversity when the result is diversity. An overwhelming majority of yoga studios, health food stores, meditation centres and even acupuncture centres are owned and operated by white people. This is not diversity, it's whitewashing. People like Gwyneth Paltrow who claims to have popularized yoga, are the faces of the wellness industry and in turn wellness practices, regardless of where those practices originated or the people who developed them. In an interview Paltrow said, and I quote: "I went to do a yoga class in LA and the 22-year-old girl behind the counter was like, 'Have you ever done yoga before?' And I was like, 'You have this job because I've done yoga before.". There are no words.
Taking all these things into consideration, you have to wonder not only who this is being marketed to but also who is willing to invest their time and money into this. For whom would re-packaged dietary restrictions and disordered eating practices be enticing and a sign of devotion to bettering themselves instead of a cry for help?
We've all at some point heard the phrase money can't buy happiness. That's only half true though. Money affords you certain privileges; things like adequate housing, health insurance, childcare to luxuries like a spiritual guru, a gym membership, and everything in between. Those under the poverty line not only can't afford some of those things, but they also don't even consider them a priority. Anyone without the funds to invest in adequate healthcare is not only unable to afford a personal trainer or a wellness guru, they don't want one. People who are starving or finding it difficult to put food on the table don't care if the fruits and vegetables in front of them are organic.
more on this subject:
Salem Tovar | the Dark Side of Wellness Culture
the CUT | Why Wellness Is the New Way to Look, Feel, and Act Rich
Medium | Goop, “That Girl,” and the Evolution of Wellness as Luxury
Refinery29 | the Wellness Industry Has A Cultural Appropriation Problem — & It’s Not Alone
