dailynewsnblog
A few months ago, I found myself standing in my bathroom, staring at a lineup of supplements I barely remembered buying. Magnesium for sleep. Adaptogens for stress. A probiotic someone on TikTok swore would “change everything.”
“I found myself standing in my bathroom, staring at a lineup of supplements I barely remembered buying.”
None of it felt harmful, exactly. But none of it felt grounding, either.
Honestly, it felt familiar. Like scrolling through a fast fashion site late at night. Add to cart. Anticipate the delivery in my mailbox and open the package with glee akin to Christmas morning.
Somewhere along the way, wellness stopped feeling like care and started feeling like consumption for me.
The rise of “fast wellness”
If fast fashion is defined by speed, trend cycles, and disposability, wellness is beginning to follow a similar pattern.
“If fast fashion is defined by speed, trend cycles, and disposability, wellness is beginning to follow a similar pattern.”
Cold plunges. Green powders. Sleep trackers. Morning routines that require fifteen steps and a curated aesthetic. Each one arrives with urgency, the suggestion of a promise, and the implication that this is the thing that will finally make you feel better.
Leila Geramian, FDN-P trainee and clinician, sees this pattern clearly. “If you look at how fast fashion works, it’s all about speed. Trends moving quickly, people buying into them fast, and then moving on just as fast. I think a lot of wellness right now is working the same way.”
She calls this phenomenon “fast wellness.” Let’s take a closer look: “It’s when health gets driven by trends instead of actual long-term benefit… Instead of asking ‘does this actually help me over time?’ it becomes ‘what’s the next thing I should be doing?’”
And the stakes are higher than clothing. Because when wellness becomes trend-driven, it taps into something deeper: our desire to feel safe and content in our bodies.
A culture built on more
The comparison of fast fashion to wellness is structural. The fashion industry produces over 100 billion garments each year, with nearly 85% ending up in landfills. At the same time, global wellness is a multi-trillion-dollar industry, projected to surpass $7 trillion in the coming years. Both operate on cycles of novelty, aspiration, and perceived inadequacy.
And what does that say about our wellness consumption a la fast fashion? Supplements all have packaging, and often come with some form of plastics. Trying out a new movement class? There’s a better workout set for that. Oh, and this influencer just shared a Reel of her favorite nighttime routine accessories: a sleep mask, cozy slippers, and a new water bottle. That’s more waste than we realize, even if the products are things we actually use. But, we can’t use all of the things all the time, can we?
“We’re marketed to from the moment we open our phone or stream a show on our televisions. We’re taught to upgrade constantly.”
We’re marketed to from the moment we open our phones or stream a show on our televisions. We’re taught to upgrade constantly. After all, one of the main tricks in advertising is to present the prospective consumer (aka, you) with friction or a problem, and the solution is the brand, service, or product. (FYI: I work in advertising, so I’m seeing this selling ethos over and over.) What do we often upgrade? Our lifestyles, which means clothing, beauty products, and now our routines and bodies, too. And increasingly, our health.
Leila points out that wellness products succeed because they tap into both desire and fear. “We want more energy, better skin, a longer life… and we fear aging, illness, and death. People are more open to trying something new, especially if it promises results quickly.”
Add social media to the mix, and the cycle goes into hyper acceleration.
Instead of taking care of our well-being, we’re often performing wellness. Moreover, we’re being positioned to curate it — add it into a morning or nighttime routine, match our supplements with a reusable water bottle, mix in another step, test out a facial oil, and a sleep gummy. The options for self-improvement seem endless and also tiring.
“Instead of taking care of our well-being, we’re often performing wellness. Moreover, we’re being positioned to curate it.”
It’s just like shopping for an outfit. In my 20s, if I had plans in the evening (like, let’s say, Friday happy hour), it was not uncommon for me to pop into H&M during my lunch hour and scurry back to my cubicle with a new dress or “going out” top for the night’s festivities. None of those outfits lasted more than a season or two.
When wellness becomes identity
Wellness is now embedded in most of our daily lives. Walking, cooking, eating, resting, meditating.
“What you eat, the routines you follow, the products you use all become part of your identity,” Leila explains. It’s easy to see why, because platforms reward visibility. Transformations become viral moments or catchy hooks. The before-and-after narratives are another take on the hero’s journey.
“Platforms reward visibility. Transformations become viral moments or catchy hooks.”
A glowing routine is easier to capture than a consistent one. But something gets lost in translation. Is one doing the routine because it nourishes them and enriches their life in some way? Or is it something else? At the end of the day what remains is the idea that there is a right way to be well.
But that’s not true. There are, in fact, multiple ways to approach self-care and wellness.
The shift into self-surveillance
Wellness crosses into something more complicated with self-surveillance.
In simple terms, self-surveillance is the act of constantly monitoring, tracking, and evaluating your body or behavior through data, metrics, or external standards. Think step counts, sleep scores, heart rate variability, mood trackers.
“Think step counts, sleep scores, heart rate variability, mood trackers.”
On paper, these tools are neutral. Helpful, even. But when used excessively, they can create a state of hypervigilance, which is a heightened awareness of bodily signals that can become exhausting and anxiety-inducing.
Hypervigilance is often associated with the nervous system staying in a prolonged state of alert. Instead of feeling safe in the body, the person begins scanning for what’s wrong.
Leila knows this experience intimately. “Health anxiety can make you feel like your body is the enemy… like something is always wrong or about to go wrong and it’s up to you to catch it and fix it.”
This kind of mindset is unfortunately not uncommon (Hi, I fall into this trap, too). It can come from fear or scarcity, or even comparison, which also comes back to lack. And the wellness industry, intentionally or not, often amplifies that fear.
The emotional cost of overconsumption
At first glance, overconsumption in wellness looks harmless. A few extra products. A few new routines. But over time, it adds up.
“Chasing health can become stressful, expensive, and even harmful,” Leila says. It can also deepen inequality. Wellness becomes a lifestyle you have to buy into, rather than something accessible and shared.
“Wellness becomes a lifestyle you have to buy into, rather than something accessible and shared.”
And perhaps most importantly, it shifts the focus away from the basics and even how we interact with our communities. “We’re chasing products and protocols but forgetting the basics… things that are boring, but actually work,” Leila adds.
The irony is hard to ignore. The more we try to perfect our health, the more disconnected we can feel from it.
Why it’s so hard to opt out
If this system feels hard to escape, it’s because it is. Most supplement brands offer subscription plans. Brands send email reminders that it’s time to reorder your favorite adaptogen. The Pilates studio you love but haven’t been to in a week? They just sent you an SMS message that they now have a streaming class service. Now you don’t have to leave your flat.
And it’s all by design: “The industry benefits from people feeling like they’re never quite doing enough,” Leila says.
There’s always another product or routine you could be missing out on. And the messaging is subtle but powerful. If you’re not doing this, you’re falling behind. If you don’t try this, you’re missing out.
“If you’re not doing this, you’re falling behind. If you don’t try this, you’re missing out.”
This creates a perpetual loop that’s fueled by vulnerability and aspiration.
“If you’re dealing with a health issue, or even just the fear of one, you’re going to be more open… more willing to try things, sometimes without really questioning them,” she adds.”
It makes sense. When something feels off in your body, you want answers. And odds are you’re craving relief and some sense of control. But control is often what the system promises, not what it delivers. So, as a culture, we keep consuming to find the metaphorical golden ticket to our bodies.
A return to something simpler
So what does opting out actually look like? Okay, this doesn’t mean to chuck your protein shakes out the window or unsubscribe from every well-being newsletter or content creator that you actually like.
Instead, what I’m offering is a chance to slow down. Make a private ritual out of your personal wellness, make it more grounded and more intentional for you.
“Make a private ritual out of your personal wellness, make it more grounded and more intentional for you.”
Leila puts it simply: “Wellness isn’t supposed to be one-size-fits-all or constantly changing. It’s personal, it’s lived, and it’s usually a lot simpler than we make it.”
That might look like:
- Choosing consistency over novelty
- Focusing on foundational habits instead of trends
- Letting your body lead, instead of an algorithm
- Taking breaks from information overload
- Reconnecting with community instead of isolating into routines
And perhaps most importantly, releasing the idea that wellness is something you have to get right.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel better. But, wellness should never feel like pressure.
So if your routines start to feel heavy, or your habits start to feel performative, it’s okay to step back. You don’t need to keep up with every trend to be well.
“You don’t need to keep up with every trend to be well.”
You just need to come back to yourself. 🦋
Stephanie Valente is a Contributing Editor at The Good Trade. She is a copywriter and editor covering wellness, commerce, lifestyle — and more — for publications like Brooklyn Magazine. Based in Brooklyn, she’s often writing poetry, getting lost in a book, or hanging out with her dog.
