I’m a party girl through and through. On any given weekend, you can find me racking up a tab at the bar and ordering lemon drop shots like it’s my full-time job. That part of me hasn’t gone anywhere. But what has changed is who I am before 8 p.m.— but maybe not enough for me to be fully on board with “wellness raves.”
There was a time when my days were just a warm-up for the night — throwing on outfits that were practically thin pieces of fabric while my friends and I came up with increasingly unhinged Borg names before heading out to darty-hop. Now, as a senior a few months away from graduating, my daytime plans look… different. I’m reading, I’m drawing in coloring books, I’m rewatching Heated Rivalry again while simultaneously lesson-planning. And weirdly? I like it.
However, while I do prioritize self-care more nowadays, I can’t help but feel that the wellness craze is going a little too far — at least, in my opinion. Across college campuses and cities, the culture around going out is changing. The same daytime hours that used to be reserved for darties and hangovers are now being rebranded into something else entirely. Suddenly, the same people who once packed into sweaty basements are now (*checks notes*) going to coffee shop raves and sauna parties?
The rise of wellness raves has entered the chat, and while they might sound like a dream for some people, it makes me think: are we reinventing the party scene in a healthier way, or are we making self-care culture a little… excessive?
Friends who know me know that I’m the furthest thing from a “wellness enthusiast” that there is: I’m fully incapable of keeping my room clean for more than three days, I sleep in my makeup, my “skin care routine” consists of washing my face once every few days, and as I’m writing this, there are clean clothes sprawled on my couch and bed, lying flat so they don’t get wrinkled.
Despite this, I can still get behind a self-care night with friends. I’m a huge fan of the iconic bubble bath with a face mask combo, and I’ll even go to Pilates or yoga every once in a while. So, when it comes to these wellness raves, I can see both sides. On one hand, I could totally see myself willingly going to a coffee shop rave: coffee, fun music, and dancing? Sign me up! But on the other hand, it’s 11 a.m. There’s probably a mom just trying to get her daily dose of caffeine while house music is blasting in her ear and sweaty people are jumping right next to her.
And it’s not just coffee shops. Wellness raves are popping up everywhere — yoga studios are turning into dance floors, and even saunas are hosting DJ sets. To me, there’s just something that feels slightly dystopian about turning every aspect of life — even partying — into a form of wellness and self-care.
At a certain point, we have to ask ourselves, When will the wellness obsession end? Are we going to be in nursing homes, insisting on maintaining our 12-step skin care routine while begging staff to throw a “wellness rave” in the dining area?
At the end of the day, I’m not anti-partying — clearly. I’ll still be out at the bar, ordering my lemon drop shots per usual. But I don’t need to call it “wellness” to make it feel more acceptable. And during the day? I’m perfectly fine considering myself the “grandma friend” — coloring, reading, and lesson-planning.
Not every coffee run needs a DJ. Not every yoga class needs to turn into a dance floor. And not every moment of self-care needs to be rebranded as some kind of high-energy, curated experience. Sometimes, it’s OK for things to just be what they are — even if they’re as boring as a face mask and an everything shower.
Sometimes, I want to go out, and sometimes, I want to sit on my couch with a coloring book. And if the alternative is sweating in a sauna to a DJ at 11 a.m., then I think I’ll pass and stick to my grandma hobbies.