I Think We've Confused Expensive With Luxurious

The older I get, the more I realise that expensive and luxurious are two completely different things.

I notice it all the time. I'll be looking for a jumper for autumn and find one that's £180, but when I look at the label it's made from acrylic or polyester. Straight away I think, that isn't luxury. It's expensive, but those two things aren't the same. I'd much rather spend my money on something made from wool, cotton or linen that will last for years than something that's simply carrying a bigger price tag.

It's the same with candles, skincare and fragrance. There are products that cost a fortune, but when you look at what's actually in them, you start to wonder what you're paying for. Then there are smaller makers, often here in the UK, quietly producing beautiful things with care and craftsmanship. That's the kind of luxury I'm drawn to.

I think that's why I've fallen out of love with places that have become too polished. I remember when The Ivy felt like somewhere special because there was only one. Now it feels like it's everywhere. The food is still nice, the rooms are still beautiful, but for me it lost a little of what made it feel unique. Somewhere along the way, style started replacing substance.

I see the same thing in the wellness industry.

Luxury is often presented as marble reception desks, infinity pools, gold taps and a complimentary glass of prosecco. There's nothing wrong with any of those things, but I've been to enough spas to know that you can have all of them and still leave feeling a bit... flat. It's difficult to feel deeply rested when the relaxation room is full, people are talking over one another and the therapist has only just read your consultation form before calling your name.

A few weeks ago I saw an Instagram post that said, "Luxury is someone remembering your name." I remember reading it and thinking... no, it isn't.

That's just being basic and kind.

Remembering someone's name shouldn't be considered luxury. It should be the starting point of how we treat one another. Calling someone by their name, making eye contact and listening when they speak isn't exceptional service. It's basic human decency.

Real luxury begins after that.

For me, it looks much quieter. It's my husband making me a cup of tea before I even get out of bed. It's my friend Karen putting a blanket over me without asking if I'm cold. It's somebody helping me carry things in from the car, or pausing the television when I walk into the room because, for those few minutes, the conversation matters more than whatever was on the screen.

None of those moments cost very much.

They simply say, "You matter more than everything else that's competing for my attention right now."

I think that's what I've always wanted óm to feel like.

Of course I care about beautiful surroundings. I care about natural materials, thoughtful details and creating a space that feels calm from the moment you arrive. But none of that means anything if I haven't got the time to really see the woman sitting in front of me.

That's why I never wanted to create somewhere that simply looked luxurious. I wanted to create somewhere that felt luxurious, and for me that feeling has very little to do with cost. It has everything to do with time, presence and care. Those three things have become incredibly rare, which is perhaps why they feel like such a luxury when we finally experience them.

Maybe we've simply been looking for luxury in the wrong places.

Perhaps it isn't something we buy at all.

Perhaps it's something we give to one another.

Luxury isn't about having more. Sometimes it's about feeling more cared for.

Alaine x