The false promise of wellness according to Jessie Gaynor

A few days ago, I finished reading a book that has been described as “Jane Austen on steroids." The novel is The Glow, written by Jessie Gaynor and published in Italy in October by 66thand2nd, an independent Italian publishing house. This dark, intriguing comedy follows Jane, a young PR agent in New York drowning in debt and stuck in a job she despises. The protagonist hates having to promote dubious-quality products, hates selling illusions to an overly specific demographic (wealthy young white women), and, above all, hates being forced to keep that job because of her debts. In search of high-paying clients, she joins a wellness retreat, where only zucchini and seaweed from the ocean shore are permitted. The wellness retreat is run by Cassie, the ultimate monetizable product: blonde, speaking exclusively in aphorisms, spending her days in long meditation sessions, and, naturally, stunningly beautiful. Jane despises everything Cassie seems to embody but soon realizes how she might turn it to her advantage. 

The Glow by Jessie Gaynor: the false promise of Wellness

I was especially struck by how the author, in an interview, spoke about the book’s title in English. According to Gaynor, “The Glow” invites people to come closer and suggests it’s something that can be shared. However, she notes that much of the language surrounding wellness speaks of solidarity and inclusion, whereas it’s actually a rather solitary, individual experience focused on oneself. It’s precisely this false promise that drew her to use that word. It’s no surprise, either, that Cassie’s character is inspired by Gwyneth Paltrow, the creator of Goop. 

Gwyneth Paltrow vs. Cassie

Both – whether on paper or via Netflix documentaries and cosmetic lines – promote the false promise embedded in wellness culture, where happiness, physical well-being, and beauty are arbitrarily linked and easily attainable – whether through a serum or a paid spiritual retreat in the middle of nowhere. If in the late '90s and early 2010s thinness was the prevailing standard, now the very idea of beauty is equated with being healthy. Thinness is a subtraction, health is an addition: the more products you buy – retreats, smoothies, meditation courses – the better you’ll feel, the healthier you’ll be. 

Diet, health, and false idols: points for reflection

The most ambiguous wellness influencers understand this well, scattering dietary advice on social media and educating followers about foods that can energize, detoxify, or harm them. These tips are always presented as health-related, not, in fact, as beauty standards disguised under new, insidious labels. As a result, it’s natural to ask whether it’s truly possible to separate health from beauty, and whether wellness is more about feeling good inside than looking the part outside. It’s a natural question, especially when the appearance of most wellness influencers is inseparably linked to their message about what it means to be healthy. Their popularity is intertwined with their image, which itself attests to their health and the effectiveness of the products they promote. As Gaynor illustrates in her novel, many of these narratives use terms like repentance and conversion, adopting a quasi-religious rhetoric. Transformation is portrayed as a challenging yet essential experience, recalling the millions of TikTok videos where girls strive to become That Girl.

Selling lifestyles as products

In the book Visual Communication: Understanding Images in Media Culture, professors Aiello and Parry state that niche marketing and media co-optation of subcultural movements, along with the promotion of sustainable and ethical lifestyles, should not be viewed as new phenomena. The authors observe that the growing visibility of alternative lifestyles in contemporary media culture has fostered the appropriation of feminist and countercultural values by companies aiming to “sell” lifestyles (lifestyle politics), rather than merely promoting consumeristic lifestyles. This becomes even more insidious when people themselves become and are the brand they promote, like Gwyneth Paltrow or Cassie in The Glow. Enmeshed in this false promise, perhaps true freedom lies in recognizing the fragile framework within which these products and lifestyles are imposed, questioning whom they target and who actually gains more power from them.