: An Over-The-Top, Totally Real, Completely Financially Irresponsible 21st Century Guide To “Wellness” George Keyes   © Copyright 2026 Geoege Keyes

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

But now, in the 21st century, we’ve taken this age-old tradition and evolved it into something so out of hand that even the most opulent 18th-century aristocrats would be clutching their pearls and asking, “How are you possibly affording this?”

First things first: Temperature. Gone are the days when you could simply “test the water” with your hand. Oh no. Now you need a smart thermostat for your bath, synced to your phone, that not only measures the water temperature to the exact millisecond but also adjusts based on your “mood”—because apparently, the water can sense if you’re feeling stressed or just in the mood for a spiritual rebirth. If you’re not achieving an optimal “Hydration Zen” state, the bath will shut itself off and demand you reset the vibe. Smart technology is now your bathmaster. Cost: $400. And don’t forget the $200 monthly app subscription.

Next, the water itself. In the 18th century, water was free, or at least, it came from somewhere that didn’t require a yearly “water cleanse” to avoid toxins. Fast forward to today: If you’re not using imported glacial water from Iceland (which is, of course, filtered through genuine Viking runes from Canada or Midde East or just from Arizona Junkie), then you’re essentially soaking in a “low-vibe” liquid that could be harming your skin. According to Wellness™ Weekly, your bathwater should be remineralized using minerals that can only be found in a mine somewhere in the Andes or right there in Mojave—this is the only way to “truly restore your natural pH balance.” The water, of course, costs approximately $18 per gallon, and for a full bath, you’ll be spending around $1,200 just for the privilege of soaking in liquid that could technically be used to irrigate your garden if you were a literal millionaire.

The Bath Bombs. In the 18th century, bath bombs were not a thing. But if they had been, they would’ve been made of pure gold and scented with the rarest flowers that only bloomed under a full moon. Now? Bath bombs are “handcrafted by fairies” and contain essential oils that have been distilled from the tears of unicorns who live on top of mountains here in Nevada, only to be harvested on the third Wednesday of every month. A single bath bomb (that probably weighs as much as a small brick) costs $250—and that’s only the basic “serenity” formula. If you want the “true celestial alignment” bomb, which aligns with the planets for “maximum vibe restoration,” you’re looking at $750 per bath. And if you think you can use a standard bath bomb more than once? Don’t even think about it. That’s like wearing the same Prada shoes two days in a row—just not done in New York City’s parade.

Next up: The Jets. A good, old-fashioned bath used to be a peaceful, undisturbed experience. Now? If your bath doesn’t have jets that create a multi-dimensional water vortex, what are you even doing with your life? These aren’t your grandma’s jets. No, these jets are 4D, and I’m not even sure what that means, but the “wellness influencers” insist it’s necessary. Not only do they have “deep tissue massage capabilities,” but they’re so quiet, you’ll barely notice them until they’ve increased your electricity bill by $400 per soak. You don’t even want to know how much it costs to run them for an hour—let’s just say that you might consider skipping rent for the month.

Oh, and don’t forget the ambient lighting. The 18th-century bathers were lucky if they had a candle. Now? You need “mood lighting”—color-shifting LED lights that are so advanced they can alter the very molecular structure of the bath’s atmosphere to match your deepest desires. Need to feel like you’re soaking in a sunset over the Amalfi Coast? There’s a setting for that. Want to feel like you’re floating in a pool of pure moonlight? There’s a setting for that too. The cost for these “soul-altering LED systems”? Around $3,000. Plus installation. Don’t go to Walmart or Home Depot, please. Which might take three months, because apparently, only the most specialized “bath technicians” can perform the job correctly if you take one from the street.

Now, of course, you’ll need essential oils—but not just any oils. Only oils harvested by hand-embroidered monks in a remote village in the Himalayas, who chant to their crystals every full moon to “invoke balance and spiritual awakening.” These oils will transform your bath into a “deeply healing experience.” Each drop costs $125, and you’ll need at least 6 drops to reach the optimal “healing state.” But who can stop there? Add two drops of Golden Amber Saffron Essence to truly elevate the experience. A full bottle of this premium oil? A cool $2,500. But trust me, it’s worth it to heal your inner self from your most recent emotional trauma caused by someone at brunch using a paper straw.

And the water bill. Oh, the water bill. This is the part where modern bathing culture really starts to shine. Your monthly water consumption, now that you’re bathing in “Viking spring water,” will skyrocket to somewhere between $5,000 and $7,000 per month. That’s not counting the gas bills for heating your water, or the unnecessary pool filter you installed because “the water needs to be pure.” It’s almost as if you’re swimming in a personal fountain of wealth, except the fountain drains your wallet.

So, what have we learned? The 18th century had it all figured out. They bathed for a few hours in relatively simple conditions—perhaps adding a few petals for flair. They didn’t need jet-powered, aromatherapy-infused, crystal chakra realigning baths to recharge their energies because, quite frankly, their only concern was whether or not they would survive smallpox. We, on the other hand, have turned bathing into a nearly 24-hour commitment involving ethereal energy crystals, 4,000-watt lighting systems, and water bills that are the GDP of a small country. All this just to “rejuvenate” ourselves for the next 10 minutes of our glamorous, influencer-driven lives.

So next time you hop into your $5,000 bath, just remember: It’s not just about relaxing. It’s about living a lifestyle that says, “I spent more on this bath than most people spend on a car, and I’m thriving.” And don’t forget to take a picture of it—because if you didn’t Instagram it, did it even happen?