I used to think it was silly when a dear friend — one of the few I have — suggested I spend more money on “experiences” and less on physical “stuff,” including and especially status symbols.
The problem with me and “experiences” is that I typically don’t enjoy them (unless you count restaurant meals), or not as much as most people, so the money’s a waste.
At least with a(nother) Loewe bag, I get fleetingly high off whatever it is about luxury goods that makes materialistic people equate “stuff” with happiness. Even if the original buzz only lasts a few minutes, the bag’s still there later and I can get a low-grade version of the original thrill simply by looking at it or wearing it out to eat.
But after years spent chasing that particular dragon, I’m beyond the point of diminishing returns. I now derive less than no incremental pleasure from new stuff. Don’t get me wrong: I still buy a lot of it. But the associated intoxication, when it’s even perceptible, bears no resemblance to the euphoria I once enjoyed while “swiping” at YSL or unboxing a new Louis beanie.
That disparity — between what it used to feel like and what it feels like now — isn’t just a source of dismay, it’s an existential feeling of dread. We all know money doesn’t buy happiness, but we secretly hope we’re the exception to the rule, just like we all secretly hope we might be the first person not to die. Every time I buy something, I’m reminded that I’m not the exception, and that makes the whole endeavor a net negative from an incremental happiness perspective.
So, I’m starting to come around to the idea that “experiences” are a better value proposition. New research from Goldman suggests I’m not alone.
As the figure below, from the bank’s Ben Snider, shows, consumer spending on “experiences” in the US ran twice as fast as spending on broader services during Q3 and Q4 of last year and more than three times as fast in Q1 of 2026.
Goldman defines “experiences” as outlays on membership clubs, sports centers, parks, theater and museums, gambling and accommodations.
Compared to Q1 of 2025, experiences spending growth accelerated sixfold early this year. I’d joke that’s indicative of escapism after Trump’s second term took a series of new turns for the darkly absurd, but I’m not actually sure that’d be an inaccurate interpretation.
For his part, Snider noted that “Many of these experiences skew towards the high-end of the income distribution.” I accept that premise with a caveat: Post-pandemic, splurging on “experiences” was associated in many cases with younger generations. I think most evidence in that regard was anecdotal, though.
What does this mean for investors? Well, Snider went on to point out that “the physical nature of these experiences should be insulated from AI disruption relative to other services offerings.” So experiences are an AI disruption hedge, I suppose. And wouldn’t you know it, the related stocks are reasonably priced, at just 12x forward EBITDA.
“Relative to the equal-weight S&P 500 and equal-weight Consumer Discretionary sector, this valuation registers in the 45%ile and 21%ile since 2016, respectively,” Snider went on, editorializing around the charts above.
If you’re curious as to what an “experience” stock is, here are a few names: DIS, MAR, RCL, HLT, VIK, LYV, CCL, LVS, FWONK, H, MGM, WYNN, LLYVK, MSGS.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go order the just-released LV Fit Monogram Reflective Beanie. So I can blow my brains out in it. (I’m just kidding about the suicide part. The beanie I’m buying.)
Interesting topic. With the K-shaped recovery, I wonder how the cruise lines will do. If you have your own yacht, you don’t need to book a cruise with CCL.
Nice beanie, by the way. Very safe for running at night. But not in a bad neighborhood.
My desire to acquire certain things declined as I got older. I much prefer sound value now to anything that others may consider more desirable. That doesn’t mean that I won’t buy nice things, but the price should not exceed their purpose beyond a certain point. (For example, my desire to own a Porsche 911 has been tempered by the fact that I really am not a good enough driver to extract and enjoy the sheer performance that such a car is built to offer at such a high price.)
As for “experiences,” that has become quite a market too now. About ten-years ago, I went fishing (solo) on a bike, along a trail in the local mountains. I used a small sectional rod I carried in a backpack and small spinning lures I made myself. I was after brook trout that were only about 6″ in size (catch and release only), often finding them in streams no more than a few feet wide. I crashed the bike at one point, but managed to carry on. It was 100 degrees that day, and as I reached the top of the trail my water supply ran out. A Water Department employee found me near a dam there and offered me some bottled water, which was really nice, and helped me get back in good shape.
That was an experience (more of an adventure really), and my total cost was a half tank of gas and a $5 parking pass. Could I have booked a first-class flight, stayed at an exquisite lodge, blown $2,000 on new gear, and hired a professional fly-fishing guide instead? Sure, and I might have some nice pics to post on Social media too, but is that really a better experience, or just a more marketable one? (I know, I know, I guess I am getting more “old school” by the day.)
T-Dog, I have found the best experiences are usually self-curated. One thing I have found , anecdotally, is that 99% of the people go to 1% of the places. I believe this holds in both urban, rural, and truly remote settings. So I have found similar experiences to yours, where the simple act of achieving simple things away from the masses is fulfilling. Example: I live in an area with a large fireworks display on 4 July. Rather than join the crowds, I hiked in the heat all day and watched the fireworks high on a mountain above town, which was miles away below me. The show looked so small from a distance. It was humbling and fun. And the long hike out in the dark was invigorating. No near misses, though, thankfully. Epics are only fun after-the-fact!
Nice!
I’ve been an experience > material person most of my life. Interestingly, there is an interface between the two insofar as you need some material possessions to make experiences possible.
As an example, I spent June rising my motorcycle from Colorado to Canada and then toured around Alberta and BC for a month. The bulk of the trip’s expenses were experience related, but my bike and all the associated gear were material purchases. That said, I’ve owned this bike for 6 years so the trip outlays that will show up in national accounts are 99% experience related.
I grew up fairly privileged so I guess I learned young that you can have a lot of things and still be very miserable, but when you’re doing cool stuff out in the world it’s hard to be depressed. Just my $0.02.
Get 20 extra pages in your passport tell the housesitter to do your taxes. Everything else on auto pay. Give yourself eight years. You’ll also find yourself sending beautiful material things back where you may eventually return.
I’m all about spending my money at nice restaurants and natural wine.
If you happen to wander into an online guitar group or any other rock musician forum you will frequently find an applicable term: GAS.
Which is an abbreviation for Gear Acquisition Syndrome. A term that applies to many folks tinkering around with their fly fishing gear, sailboat rigging and bicycle parts.
Is sports betting class classified as an experience as well?
It’s a serious question. Back in the “olden days”, advertisers sought to reach the 25-40-year-old cohort, partly based on the notion that they were spending money starting a family but still had disposable income. Thus all those pickup truck ads on sports broadcasts.
I wonder if this should be called into question. As per a story in Moneywise this morning, “71% of prediction market’s current users being men under the age of 45, according to a recent study from analytics firm Morning Consult.” Then there is sports betting.
So shouldn’t investors be focused on older folks with money to spend on “bucket list” experiences?
No, H. You’re just getting bored. Because it’s summer. If one day you can’t find a reason to keep going, keep going for us, your readers. You’re very valuable to your cult of followers. Reading your words pretty much becomes my morning routine, except for the weekends. You know what? I’ll get to all the monthlies on the weekends, promise.
If you’re not reading the monthlies, you’re missing the best content. I do suggest you read them.
I feel compelled to make a case for materialism. The superiority of experience is such a cliche that it triggers my disagreeable tendencies. We can all pat ourselves on the back about our hyper-authentic stroll along the Appalachian trail / six months spent in a bohemian Parisian garret / sublime days spent wandering the Prado. It seems, however, that everyone is keen to contrast these experiences to an assumption that more material folk are spending thousands of dollars on plastic Temu tat.
To take the other side, I take a lot of pride out of my acquisition of beautiful art, my well-tailored clothes that help me cut a dashing figure, and a carefully curated library that reflects my tastes and enriches my mind. Meanwhile, judging by the stock tickers, the experience economy is less the mindful monastic meanderings of my fellow commentators, and more the crowded cattle pens of Disneyland, Venice and cruise liners. There is no shame in having taste and spending money on expressions thereof.
Great topic, and I can tell from the comments here that the audience is split. Count me in the ‘experiences’ camp. When I look back at my life I always consider my greatest moments were the 7 years I spent starting at 25 y.o. living on a sailboat and travelling around the Caribbean living hand to mouth. The diving, the spearfishing, the scary moments, the storms, the late nights, finding my physical and mental limitations, the dear friends…
Now I’m a bit older and I see how much harder it gets every decade to do the same things. Not just physically. I also can’t mentally feel as free and unencumbered anymore. But those memories! I look back and I’m so impressed with myself, I really lived! And it makes me want to keep searching for that high again, even though it may not be fun when it’s happening.
I think the feeling some people get as they admire their possessions is the same feeling I get when I admire my memories.
I’ve recently gotten into watch “collecting”–though with only 3 watches, calling it a collection feels generous. Turns out this hobby isn’t cheap; entry level pieces like a Longines typically run north of 3K. I’m still in the honeymoon phase, so each purchase gives me a lot of joy.
Woah, boy. That’s a hobby that was too rich for me. That gets insanely escalatory and very fast. A Sky-Dweller’s the ceiling on that for me, and what I discovered is that’s the floor for serious collectors. I gave watches up when I saw a $75k price tag on a certified pre-owned, entry-level Richard.
You know, like, you can show up at a Mercedes dealer with $10k cash, 800 credit and an upscale income and they’ll find a way to put you in some kind of AMG if that’s what you want. It might not be the GT or any kind of 63, but in most cases, it’ll be the nicest thing in the grocery store parking lot. By contrast, if you show up at a Patek boutique, the only way they’re going to “put you” in a Patek is if you have the full amount of that Patek ready to present to them, right there, right then.
How about in the parking lot of your nearby Cracker Barrel?
And in most cases, they won’t even sell it to you unless you have spent well into the 6 figures at that particular authorized dealer. Patek is my grail–i would love to get my hands on a Nautilus.
I am a huge fan of the Sky-Dweller, especially with a green or blue dial–it’s the most complicated movement that Rolex makes.
Richard Mille, though, isn’t for me. It just looks like a futuristic Franck Muller with a 200K price tag.
$580 plus tax for beanie? What a waste of capital. Go to Goodwill and donate the difference to a food bank. Too many folks can’t afford a meal at a hamburger drive through let alone a car to get there. I don’t mind paying for your monthly fee but to think it’s wasted on a head cloth makes me reconsider.
You pay the fee to get access to brilliant market and geopolitical commentary. How H spends his hard-earned money is none of my/your business.
Jack, I don’t a give a damn whether you’re here or not. If you don’t like it, pack your shit and hit the door, Skippy, to quote Jim Young.
It’s obvious you’re not reading very closely, anyway. Virtually every third article references something I bought with your money.
Now everybody laugh at Jack. Because he deserved that.
“Had my hand on a dollar bill / And the dollar bill blew away / But the sun is shining down on me / And it’s here to stay.”
The sunshine’s not in a bag btw.
Technical note. A quick backtest of these 14 tickers from January 2025 to the present, using a monthly dual momentum algorithm with an 8 month lookback and a portfolio of 12 tickers employing a linear decreasing allocation, shows the following results. CAGR: Experience 19.42%, SPY 17.94%. Market correlation: Experience .0.63, SPY 1.0. But the Experience portfolio is more volatile. Max Drawdown: Experience -15.37%, SPY -7.58%. So investing in Experience has some ups and downs.
If you really want an experience, find a track near you and take the AMG out for some time trials. As an added bonus, you’ll then have an excuse to by a Saint Laurent Rive Droite riding helmet. That’s for cars, right?
I guarantee you’ll be the only one there wearing one.
That Rive Droite store is so awesome. I want everything in there.
You need to go to Paris. Eat, shop, walk around. Drink coffee in a cafe and watch the world go by. The best place in the world to optimize the intersection between “experiences” and “materialism”.