Unless you’ve been living under a rock, I’m sure the wellness darty “controversy” has made it to your For You Page. For those of you with low screen times, here’s the meat and potatoes:Â
Peak Pulse, a run club native to Gainesville, hosted a couple of pop-up events with University of Florida fraternities. These events have had an outdoor Pilates class, a fun run and a “wellness darty”—where coffees and matchas replaced alcoholic drinks—at the end. Pretty much #pilatesprincess #cleangirl #wellnessbaddie to a T. Cute, right? Well no…I guess? TikTok is all up in arms about this, claiming Gen Z is the most boring generation ever. Ouch.
To say that this “controversy” is much ado about nothing would be an understatement. As someone who proudly attends the University of Florida, I can assure you that wellness darties have not killed college partying. Midtown is still packed and the frats still throw tailgates for every home game. The kids are alright, I promise.Â
But this article isn’t really about “wellness darties.” If it was, it would be over by now. It would be easy to argue that people are annoyed by wellness darties because they believe “that’s not what college is for.” I mean, that’s what most of the reaction videos assert, and Gen Z is drinking less than generations past. But the “Gen Z doesn’t know how to have fun” discourse is tired. To me, it’s more interesting to dig a little deeper and ask why something so harmless has struck such a nerve.
When was the last time that you listened to the radio? If you’re like me, my brothers or my friends, it’s probably been about a decade. Streaming services like Apple Music and Spotify, coupled with the rise of Apple CarPlay, have basically rendered the radio obsolete for Gen Z. Way back when, in the early 2010s and before, we all used to listen to the same music. There was a common thread of pop culture and culture at large. The rise of streaming services, social media and really, the whole internet has fragmented things. Algorithms categorize users into boxes based on what they like, creating echo chambers or niches, depending on your framing. Instead of everything being for everyone, you and I and every other person on TikTok have been assigned an invisible genre. We’ve even given these genres names, hence those semi-cringy names like “BookTok” and whatnot. Wellness is one of those genres.Â
Merriam-Webster’s definition of wellness is the following: the quality or state of being in good health. Seems about right, right? Let’s do a thought experiment though. When I say the words “wellness influencer,” what do you see? Do you, perchance, see a thin white woman wearing a matching workout set, maybe even holding a matcha? If I was right, you have to Venmo me $1,000. Kidding! But isn’t it interesting that just two words can come with a million and a half assumptions? You could’ve imagined anyone in the world, but you didn’t. Why is that?
With the little experiment we just did in mind, would you agree that the term “wellness influencer” is just “basic” reinvented? Walk with me here. Adriana Roth wrote a lovely article last year about the drive to be niche. In it, she talks about how standing out is the new fitting in; being “basic” is out and being niche is in. And would you look at that? It’s all coming together. The death of American monoculture has created a borderline vitriol toward anything deemed “basic,” and a wellness darty is the epitome of the word. Add in the idea of college being seen as a time for “rebellion” against the standard and “freedom” from the straight and narrow, and it’s almost too perfect.
You may be thinking, OK, but like where do we go from here? The truth is: I don’t know, and when it comes to wellness darties, I don’t really care. You probably shouldn’t either. Drink the matcha. Go to the frat party. Do both. Do neither. But don’t think that your decision makes you any better (or worse) than anyone else. I sincerely hope that this is the last think piece about wellness darties to hit the Internet, but I don’t think the broader conversation should end here. My homework for you is to think about why being “not like other girls” is a compliment, but being like other girls is an insult. Really sit on that for me.