You don't have to quit the big lifestyle to be a good person. You don't have to cancel HBO Max and live in a yurt to prove you have your priorities straight.
We’ve all read the headlines. “Downsize your life.” “Cancel the streaming services.” “Trade the luxury apartment for a van.” can't quit those big tits
We can’t quit these shows because they validate our own chaos while aestheticizing it. It tells us, “Your life is a mess, but imagine how chic that mess would be with a marble countertop.” In 2024, having "no money" is not a flex. But having "good taste" is. We stay tethered to the big lifestyle because it gives us cultural currency. We watch the three-hour director’s cut so we can have an opinion on Twitter. We keep up with the fashion week drama so we feel relevant. You don't have to quit the big lifestyle to be a good person
We aren't just consuming entertainment; we are studying for the test of social relevance. To quit the big lifestyle would mean to fall behind on the cultural zeitgeist—and for many of us, that FOMO is worse than the credit card bill. Minimalism is a flat line. Zen is constant. But life? Life is peaks and valleys. Big lifestyle content gives us the peaks. That moment in a reality show where the villain gets voted off. That reveal of the renovated mansion. The plot twist in the season finale. “Downsize your life
We are living in the era of the "Can't Quit" consumer. We are hyper-aware of the benefits of simplicity, but we are emotionally addicted to the spectacle. Here is why we keep crawling back to the velvet rope. Silence is supposed to be golden, but for most of us, it is just loud anxiety. Big lifestyle content—the $25 million dollar home tours, the behind-the-scenes of movie premieres, the 12-course tasting menus—offers a specific type of escapism that meditation apps cannot.