Why Are We All Paying the Vibe Tax? Vibeflation and the Death of Free Public Life

We all know luxury spending is driving inflation but why are we not paying for quality? Why are we paying to be perceived?

In the 1920s, it was speakeasies and champagne towers. Today, it’s £8 oat lattes, £35 reformer Pilates classes, and a waitlist for a restaurant that only serves small plates. We all know lifes is getting more expensive, but the reality is public life has been paywalled. The real issue isn’t why coffee costs £8, but why you have to spend £8 just to sit down. Welcome to Vibeflation: the economic phenomenon where prices aren’t driven by supply and demand, but by aesthetics, class signalling, and exclusivity. We aren’t just paying for products and services anymore, we’re paying for the privilege of participating in public life.

Along with this, the death of third spaces is the biggest undermined issues of our generation. We used to just exist in churches, cheaper bars, or even just playing video games not online, for (almost) free. Now, your choices are your home (if you can afford it) or somewhere that requires a purchase. Lamentably that’s also disappearing. Cafés are moving towards seatless models. Blank Street’s entire business model is "get your coffee and leave." Starbucks is taking notes. What started as an expensive coffee shop culture is becoming a culture where you can’t linger unless you pay rent on a table. The decline of free public spaces and the rise of Vibeflation happened at the same time, not a coincidence.

Luxury has never been so accessible. That’s why an eight-year-old needs a Stanley Cup to be cool at school, why a bottle of Aesop soap is a personality trait, or how a £15 sandwich at a café can cost more than an entire meal at an old-school deli. We all know that when you’re not paying extra for a product, you’re paying for status. Unlike goods and services, status doesn’t follow the laws of supply and demand. The more expensive it is, the more people want it. Exclusivity is the product now. Everything is getting more expensive, not because of labour shortages or supply chains, but because we’re paying for aesthetics. Basic human experiences, rest, community, movement, were once free. Now, they come with a price tag. We’ve convinced ourselves that’s normal.

Are pilates princesses paying for a workout or an aesthetic lifestyle choice? Boutique fitness studios like Barry’s Bootcamp, SoulCycle, and reformer pilates have transformed the way we exercise, but the biggest shift isn’t physical, it’s economic. The difference between a £40 class in a candlelit studio with eucalyptus-scented towels and a $29.99 per month gym membership? Class vibes apparently. The class itself is functionally identical to what you could do in a budget gym with a YouTube tutorial, or even your own home. We need to admit to ourselves we want more than exercise, we want a whole wellness experience. I am so guilty of this, I love trying new pilates studios where their weights and matts are cuter than the last. Why shouldn’t our lives be full of movie stills?

Unfortunately my favourite hobby, pilates is a prime example of Vibeflation in action. The machines themselves aren’t expensive (well they are but no more than the thousands worth of equipment in the gym) and the actual method hasn’t changed in decades. As soon as pilates became the signature workout of downtown girl-esque influencers and designer tote bag enthusiasts, the price skyrocketed. You could do the same routine on a yoga mat, but it wouldn’t look the same. In a world where every moment is curated like an Instagram story, that matters more than ever. Meanwhile, traditional gyms have struggled to keep up, because luxury fitness operates outside the normal rules of inflation. These classes don’t have price ceilings, because people aren’t paying for the actual workout, they’re paying for exclusivity. Exclusivity has no upper limit.

We all know the real cost of a coffee isn’t the coffee. It’s the right to sit somewhere, or the right to be someone. Once, you could exist in public for free. Now, if you want a space that isn’t your own house, you have to buy something. In cities where third spaces have disappeared, cafés have become the replacement living room, office, and meeting point but only for those who can afford the cover charge. This isn’t just about inflation, it’s about perceived status. That £8 iced latte doesn’t cost that much because the ingredients are expensive, it costs that much because people are willing to pay for it. Luxury pricing works in reverse. Instead of demand lowering prices, raising prices increases demand because exclusivity makes a product desirable. The same thing happens in restaurants. Tasting menus, once a niche fine-dining experience, are now the standard for new openings in affluent areas. It’s a tale as old as time, using the illusion of scarcity to sell, the idea that because something is expensive, it must be worth it. Since Gen Z is the first generation raised on aesthetic curation, these places aren’t just food spots; they’re content. The real product isn’t the latte, it’s the TikTok of the latte, it’s how walking around with a coffee after a morning workout class makes you feel. It’s a fashion statement that says I have my life together, I’m productive, and it works.

We’re all paying for access to spaces that feel curated, for a few hours a day. Meanwhile, traditional restaurants that prioritise actual quality over vibes are being pushed out. Just look at Hackney in London, where old-school pubs are vanishing, replaced by cocktail bars where the ice-cube is bigger than the drink. In Ireland, where I live in Inchicore, arthouse coffee shops where flat whites are more expensive than a pint of Guinness on the same road are thriving. The big deal here is that once a place has been fully sufficiently extracted of all good vibes, nobody can afford to live there anymore.

That said, Vibeflation all starts in real estate. We’re all looking for the cheap neighbourhood, close to the city centre that could become my next instagram backdrop. In the 1990s, Bushwick in New York was an affordable (if rough) neighbourhood. Now, it’s a haven for creatives, complete with overpriced yoga studios and kombucha breweries. The same thing is happening in Hackney, or in Stoneybatter in Ireland, and across every city where "up-and-coming" really means already unaffordable for the people who lived there first. Young professionals will pay more for areas that look like they belong in their curated aesthetic. Once the first boutique café moves in, property values shoot up. The locals leave. The creatives arrive. The creatives get priced out. Then, finally, only the wealthy remain. And the cycle repeats but this time, somewhere you never would’ve ever expected to have a wine bar!

So, all that said, is Vibeflation here to stay? Yes. The consumer economy thrives on status spending, and as long as we keep paying the vibe tax, businesses will keep charging it. Boutique culture is too profitable to die. Luxury fitness will keep expanding, trendy cafés will keep multiplying and gentrification will keep pushing prices up. Maybe, just maybe, one day we’ll realise our life doesn’t have to be picturesque to live it.

Or maybe we won’t. I’ll see you at pilates.

*Note: I hate the word vibe (and I ashamedly/joyfully buy into all of this). Thanks for reading.