Wellness is Now the Hottest (and Healthiest) Way to Socialize

For 30-year-old Sam Price, who works in property management, weekdays begin at 7 a.m. with a workout, a shower and a blow-dry using Dyson tools. This routine doesn’t happen at her condo; it unfolds at her second home—the ultra-luxurious gym Sweat and Tonic. Billed as a “premium boutique fitness and wellness experience,” the Toronto-based start-up’s second location—in The Well—spans an entire floor and is complete with a 15-metre saltwater pool. Later, she and many of her S&T friends relocate to Tonic House, the in-house shared workspace, where she reserves a soundproof booth for work projects. On evenings and weekends, Price logs more time here. She met her best friend here three years ago in back-to-back classes, where groups meet for Summer Houseviewing parties or to “pre” before a night out, swapping protein shakes for skinny margaritas. “I am at Sweat way more than at home,” she says. “The only way I’d leave this gym is if it burned down.”

For many millennials and Gen-Zers, hitting the gym is more than a weekly 45-minute check-in—it’s their whole day, every day. These spaces are about more than a workout. At a certain point, they stop feeling like gyms altogether. They’ve evolved into something bigger: a social ecosystem where wellness and community intersect. Between the co-working booths, cold plunges and post-class lattes, they start to resemble a very curated version of daily life. They’ve become our new third place. For me, it’s the spot that delivers a triple or even quadruple punch: a daily dopamine fix during morning workouts in the infrared room, a social hang around the (literal) water cooler, a hub to exchange work ideas and, if I can sneak it in, time in the lymphatic-drainage boots.

In How We Gather, a study of this phenomenon, co-author Angie Thurston finds that gym members spend nearly all of their free time in these spaces, where multiple needs are met at once. And this third place is big business: The Global Wellness Institute reported a record PB of approximately $9 trillion in 2024, with North America posting the biggest gains. This figure surpasses the GDP of most countries. Numbers like this call for a rethink: They reveal a profound shift in where individuals and companies invest their time and money. Wellness isn’t just a habit anymore—it’s an economy and, increasingly, a lifestyle infrastructure.

The OG in this arena, Equinox, has been delivering elevated fit luxury in Canada for well over a decade. Its ethos is straightforward but sweeping: It’s not fitness; it’s life. As it prepares to open a new King Street West location in Toronto—designed by Toronto-based interior-design duo Nivek Remas—the brand is levelling up its formula: an oversized lounge that reads like a posh hotel lobby, change rooms with spa treatment areas, and a full therapy circuit. In other words, it’s stepping into a role once filled by places of worship, offices and neighbourhood hangouts. “These organizations begin to see themselves as part of a broader cultural shift toward deeper community,” Thurston suggests. A global increase in isolation and loneliness has created a niche for these specialized studios to address a growing social need.

Toronto-born social-wellness brand Othership is steering this movement at its two locations in the city plus another two in New York; more are planned for 2027. The modern bathhouse guides “journeyers” through a program of heat and cold therapy, culminating in reflective group circles. In an age of disconnection, its mission is clear: Be a place to connect meaningfully with other humans. Its class schedule reads like a social calendar: Friendship and Lovership nights and alcohol-free DJ takeovers. As alcohol consumption declines, the sober-curious are swapping happy hour for $58 ice baths and sauna dates.

And as gym cards become social currency, membership at a boldface-name club signals status, belonging and lifestyle. High-end gyms, edging toward private clubs, are layering on amenities, diversifying their offerings and packaging it all in sleek interiors under one roof. Winnipeg-based Altea Active, an elite fitness brand with locations across the country, isleaning into this trend. It recently expanded into Yorkville’s health-and-wellness corridor with its chic sister concept, Avant. These places are less about access to equipment and more about entry into a certain kind of life. Framing itself as a “social wellness club,” it channels the exclusivity of a country club, with a waiting list and a questionnaire for prospective members to determine if they’re the “right fit.”

While younger generations are driving the industry forward, older consumers are broadening the definition of wellness. Health clubs are evolving from single-purpose spaces into lifestyle-and-wellness arenas centred on healthy aging (ahem, longevity), biohacking and curated community experiences.

Over the past few years, I’ve witnessed more networking sessions and romantic link-ups set against the backdrop of everything from a reformer class and recovery room to a pickleball court. Deals are floated between sets, and first dates begin in ice baths. These spaces are checking all the boxes.

Strikingly, “spaces traditionally meant for exercise have become the locations of shared, transformative experiences,” says Thurston. In downtown Toronto, Trove, a one-stop wellness oasis, was born when two founders grew tired of trekking across the city for their various health appointments. Their holistic approach combines science, innovative services, community and what the duo calls “magic.” I drift from a solo session in the Himalayan-salt cave to a sound-bath class and then join a group by the fire for my glutathione drip, where IV tubes hang like Spanish moss. Spend enough time in these spaces and you begin to notice how seamlessly they have folded into everyday life. The gym hasn’t just changed physically—it has reshaped our expectation of what a “place” can be.

If that’s where things stand now, the question becomes “Where do we go from here?” As sleep health becomes the new frontier in wellness, I can easily imagine spending the night in a gym that offers heated sleep pods, ambient lullabies and a curated pillow menu.

This article first appeared in FASHION’s Summer 2026 issue. Read more stories from FASHION’s Summer 2026 issue here and subscribe to the print issue here.