My recent post on X racked up nearly two million views, with hundreds of commenters echoing the same frustration with overly extravagant, destination bachelorette weekends.
“I’d love to spend a ton of $$$, leave my husband and 3 kids for a weekend to fly across the country and [be the designated driver] for a bunch of drunk women. No thanks,” a young mom from New York wrote.
Somewhere between the $750 resort deposit and the mandatory packing list, it hits you: This isn’t a bachelorette party — it’s a hostage situation with matching T-shirts.
How did something as sweet and simple as a spa day or a night out with the squad morph into a luxury weekend that demands your best friends max out their credit cards just to be included?
Unfortunately, this isn’t rare or exaggerated. By most estimates, 60–65 percent of brides now corral their friends into destination bachelorette weekends with overnight travel. These luxury weekends average around $1,200 per person, often including flights, planned excursions, and upscale accommodations — and that’s if the bride doesn’t pick an exotic locale.
Defenders of this pricey new wedding trend argue it’s a choice, not a mandate. Let’s be real — once it’s tied to a wedding, it’s an unspoken obligation. Besides, the loudest defenders are usually the same ones who had an out-of-town bachelorette, engagement party, couples shower, friend shower, lingerie party, dress shopping weekend, mandatory hair-and-makeup trial day, wedding welcome party, and day-after brunch.
In no other scenario would someone take a week off work, fly across the country, drop $2,000, and pose for a hundred pictures just to pad the bride’s highlight reel.
Think having kids gets you off the hook? Think again. Instagram is full of advice for moms “grappling with leaving the baby for the first time” — not for work or a funeral, but to attend a bachelorette trip. You read that right: Women are leaving newborns behind to party, or risk getting kicked out of the bridal lineup.
One Insta mom posted a picture of herself hugging a very young child at the airport. The caption read: “Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things I have ever done. My heart was breaking.” It should be, because let’s be honest — that was completely unhinged. Have fun pumping in the bar bathroom, mama.
Some defend these trips as a great excuse to get away with friends — but would a real friend pressure you to ride a mechanical bull in a sequined romper while streaming the whole thing live on X? I think not.
To be fair, if you search “bridesmaid weekend” on social media, you’ll find hundreds of posts praising how fun it was. But one must wonder: Are these women victims of Stockholm syndrome? Or FOMO? Blink twice if you need help, gals. That’s the larger issue: Social media drives these self-promoting glamour trips because everything has to “look good for the gram.” It’s no longer about life-long friendship — it’s about likes.
We could blame the wedding industrial complex for convincing us that a marriage isn’t worth celebrating unless you and everyone you know go broke; reality TV for glorifying “bridezilla” behavior; or social media for rewarding curated perfection over genuine connection.
But there’s a deeper societal shift at play — one that rewards and even encourages self-obsession, vanity, and entitlement. Consumerism and status anxiety have wormed their way into even our closest friendships, turning them into performances — a culturally acceptable narcissism dressed up in glittery cowboy hats.
Main character syndrome is an epidemic, and it doesn’t show signs of stopping.
Another commenter on my post admitted the trend was problematic — then immediately justified it with: “I’ve gone to all my [friends’] bachelorette trips, it’s my turn for them to do the same for me.” A perfect example of love curdled into transactional obligation.
A friend of mine was invited to a bachelorette trip at Disney World. Yes, a weeklong trip to Disney World. No kids allowed. The baseline cost was already absurd, but after food, drinks, park tickets, and the requisite mouse ears, she declined.
The problem is, these trips don’t only drain wallets — they drain relationships. Resentment festers when friends are expected to finance someone else’s content strategy. Those who can’t afford it feel excluded and ashamed, and those who go often come back feeling used rather than appreciated.
This is one trend in weddings that should be tossed down the memory hole. The people standing beside you on your wedding day should feel honored — not financially extorted for the ’gram.
If the point of a bachelorette party is to celebrate love, let’s remember — love is not self-serving, self-centered, or transactional. Love preserves. Love protects. It doesn’t exploit or leave friendships frayed.
The best memories aren’t charged to a credit card and laced with resentment — they’re made with people who genuinely want to be there, whether you’re wearing matching tanks in Nashville or sharing Trader Joe’s cupcakes in your friend’s living room.
Because real friendship doesn’t demand a group rate or a hashtag.
It’s time to retire this exhausting, expensive tradition — and return to what bachelorette parties were meant to be: simple, joyful, and centered on the people who matter the most.