Alex Feldman, the co-founder of exclusive New York City bathhouse Saint, joins our call from inside a sauna. The space, made from cedarwood and cool slate, is dim but tranquil. “The core tenet of the design of our space was quality,” he tells me. “Also, the idea of peace and privacy. We refer to the business as a purveyor of personal space.”
Saint was opened by Feldman and Amanda Hensen, who originally met as colleagues at a WeWork back in its heyday. The bathhouse was designed by award-winning design studio boND, and has a unique layout that means each client’s experience is almost entirely discretionary; you don’t see anyone coming or going. There are four ‘sanctuaries’ each with its own sauna, cold plunge and rain shower.
“Early on, when [Amanda] and I were thinking about this bathhouse concept, we wondered, ‘what if privacy was the whole product; solitude as the service?’ That was our lightbulb moment.”
It was a good idea in a city like N.Y.C., where peace and space are both rarities. There’s no shortage of bathhouses on the island, but Saint is less about the biohacking benefits of contrast therapy, and more about inner calm – something Feldman figured out early on couldn’t really be bought; inner peace was the ultimate luxury.
“We have regulars that are actors, Broadway stars, A-listers, millionaires, executives. Some really interesting people have organically found us – I think they value the element of privacy, which is increasingly harder to find,” he tells me.
But Saint wasn’t just made for those escaping fame – that happened as a by-product – it was rather cultivated as a means to counteract the palpable sense of mass unease Feldman had noticed in friends and colleagues. “I’ll be honest – everyone is on antidepressants. There is this widespread feeling of disconnectedness – no one is living in their body or in the present. People are stressed, burnt out, glued to their phones… people are struggling,” he adds. “You can buy a trip, a material good, maybe you can buy temporary happiness, but you cannot buy your way out of your head – I think that’s why wellness as an industry, and more specifically the idea of a sauna, has grown exponentially, funnily enough. Even if you don’t have a mindfulness practice, stepping into a sauna forces it upon you, in a way. People are craving that more than they realise.”
Saint is part of the broader burgeoning luxury wellness industry where looking and feeling healthy has become the latest luxury good. Our workouts, supplement stacks, rituals – these things say as much about us as the bags we carry and the cars we drive.
It’s a shift that’s happened gradually and then all at once. Wellness has always been a big industry, and the instinct to care for ourselves is nothing revolutionary, but luxury wellness is a newer concept. It’s evolved beyond what we do behind closed doors; working out and food choices used to be mundane, now they are something we’re talking about. It exists outside our homes and our bathrooms. It’s taking up more time, space, and money. People are viewing their health (wellness, longevity, peace) as a kind of investment. We’re seeing it in the form of luxury clubs, bathing memberships, supplements, hard-to-book gurus, wearable tech and wellness-ified grocery stores – even fundamental items like bottled water have been premiumised. We’ve moved past function and into an arena where looking after ourselves is aspirational, intentional and to an extent, enjoyable.
And while there’s nothing wrong with saunas, solitude, ingestible routines and recurring acupuncture/lymphatic drainage/LED therapy – these things hold inherent value – good health can be reduced to nourishing but simple food, water, rest, movement and connection. Balance, specifically indulgence, is also important (at least in my opinion). Extreme or obsessive anything goes against the entire ideal.
Last month, I was in a Pilates class where the woman next to me was recounting the interview process she’d gone through to be accepted into Sansara, a gym and wellness hub opening in Sydney’s Double Bay. Inside the multi-story building, there will be saunas, ice baths, an extensive strength-focused gym, yoga space, Pilates studio, café and member’s lounge.
“I think we’re seeing a broader cultural shift in what people value – consumers no longer want places that simply provide a service; they want places that reflect their identity and values,” Sansara’s co-founder Rory Warnock tells me. Warnock is a breathwork coach, author, athlete, and ultramarathon runner whose curiosity in holistic wellness was piqued in early adulthood. “It really began during university, when my mental health started to decline, and I was prescribed SSRIs,” he shares. “That period became a catalyst for my curiosity. I wanted to understand why I felt the way I did and whether there were other tools and practices that could support my wellbeing.”
Sansara is his latest venture – a membership-based wellness ecosystem capped at 650 members where every detail, down to the lighting scheme, has been considered. Warnock sees the current shift towards value being placed on experience and alignment over possessions. Sansara exists to facilitate this.
“You can see this across almost every industry: Retail stores have become cultural spaces; hotels are destinations in themselves. People are increasingly choosing where they spend their time based on how those places make them feel and what they say about who they are,” he adds.
“For years, the industry has largely been dominated by one model: functional gyms with an emphasis on intensity, aesthetics or optimisation. That model still serves a lot of people incredibly well, but there is also a growing cohort looking for something different – something more holistic, design-led and emotionally resonant,” he adds.
It’s a global trend: Equinox, Soho Health Club, Tramp in London, Aman (who recently opened a dedicated wellness offering in New York City). These clubs are exclusive – not always for the sake of it – but they’re positioned as an extension of lifestyle, not just a ‘gym’. They’re obviously targeted at a certain tax bracket, but also towards discerning clientele who view luxury as access or experience, not simply owning stuff.
Interestingly, Warnock tells me that the common thread connecting his members is not status or industry but a frame of mind. “We have CEOs, creatives, fashion designers, architects, investors, doctors, athletes, retirees – all kinds of clients – but I’ve found what unites them is their mindset. They’re all curious people who care deeply about how they live and who they spend their time with.”
This desire for alignment is another invisible thread, especially within the world of luxury wellness. Like fashion, these brands are creating not just products but worlds. Goop is one of the most obvious modern examples, alongside the likes of Eight Sleep, Erewhon or Happier Grocer in N.Y.C. Olivia Boyd-Smith, the founder of ingestible brand Par Olive (stocked in both Goop and Erewhon) says that the context around a wellness brand – especially an ingestible – is important.
“We’re incredibly selective because retail shapes how a brand is experienced,” she tells me. “We look for partners that share our values around quality, education and thoughtful curation. Stores like Goop and Erewhon have become destinations where food, beauty and wellness naturally intersect, making them an authentic environment for an ingestible skincare brand.”
Boyd-Smith’s a founder that’s embraced the evolution of grocery stores as another tenet of the modern wellness industry: “These [businesses] have become cultural curators as much as retailers. People don’t just shop there – they discover new ingredients, brands, and ways of living. They blur the lines between hospitality, wellness, beauty and food in a way that’s incredibly inspiring.”
The ingestible beauty area has grown exponentially in recent years, with major luxury players like Par Olive gaining vocal fans like Victoria Beckham and Melanie Grant. Her branding is slick but one of the main draws is her commitment to quality.
“Luxury has to begin with integrity,” Boyd-Smith explains. “Beautiful packaging is important, but they should be supported by exceptional ingredient sourcing, clinical dosages, rigorous manufacturing standards and complete transparency.”
Like Feldman, she also gets that part of this industry is offering an additional something that money can’t necessarily buy. “Knowledge has become a modern form of luxury because time and attention are increasingly scarce for everyone,” she adds. “Consumers choose brands that reflect their values and how they want to live, but they also expect products to work. We’re surrounded by endless information within wellness, but trusted expertise is much harder to find. Access to that is a meaningful expression of luxury, in my opinion.”
It’s definitely fair to say that luxury has evolved well beyond what we own and is much more about how we live. It’s related to how we spend our time and how ‘regulated’ we feel. It’s an interesting dichotomy when you contrast it against the fact that collective stress levels seem to be at an all-time high. There’s a general sense of malaise. And while there’s nothing wrong with saunas, solitude, ingestible routines and recurring acupuncture/lymphatic drainage/LED therapy – these things hold inherent value – good health can be reduced to nourishing but simple food, water, rest, movement and connection. Balance, specifically indulgence, is also important (at least in my opinion). Extreme or obsessive anything goes against the entire ideal.
“Our approach is kind of different; I don’t like restrictions,” Feldmen tells me. “Like I love the idea that you leave Saint, and you go smoke a cigarette or a joint, not necessarily that you go and have a smoothie... or maybe it’s a smoothie and a cigarette. But basically, I think our wellness domain is really about peace. In my opinion that is important and luxurious – just pure relaxation.”
Puritanism won’t get us anywhere, even when there’s a certain level of status involved. Feeling good, rested, nourished, and healthy is a privilege. Do we need to spend thousands to get there? No. But should we invest in the things that make us feel more like ourselves? Yes.
“Health has become a new expression of luxury,” Boyd-Smith adds. “People are investing in things that help them feel well rather than simply look well, and that reflects a broader cultural shift towards prevention and longevity. The positive side is that people are becoming more engaged with their health. The challenge is ensuring wellness doesn’t become another unattainable status symbol. The brands that will endure are the ones that educate and provide value, rather than intimidate.”
