Once-affordable experiences like concerts, weddings, and casual nights out are increasingly being treated as luxuries, as prices soar and young people reconsider how and where they spend their money in the entertainment economy. This creeping sense that “fun” is now only for the financially comfortable is at the core of a recent BuzzFeed piece titled "It's Infuriating": People Are Calling Out Things That Were Once Affordable That Are Now Considered A "Luxury", where everyday people vent about how basic joys have been priced out of reach.

The examples range from concert tickets that feel like mortgage payments to weddings so expensive that engagements are stuck in limbo. It’s not just about inflation; it’s about how culture, capitalism, and FOMO collide, reshaping what entertainment looks like in 2025.

Crowd at a concert holding up phones and recording the performance
Once a casual weekend splurge, big concerts in 2025 often feel like a high-end luxury purchase.

Concerts: When Live Music Starts to Feel Like a Mortgage Payment

In the BuzzFeed roundup, one quote cuts straight to the heart of the current mood:

“Concerts. Tickets are too much, parking is expensive, food is outrageous, crowds are obnoxious, and everyone is on their phone anyway.”

It’s a perfect summary of the 2025 concert experience. Between dynamic pricing, VIP tiers, and endless pre-sale codes, simply getting in the door can feel like a part-time job. Sites like Ticketmaster and resale platforms have turned demand into an algorithmic sport—one that many fans are losing.

  • Base ticket prices inflated by “platinum” and “preferred” seating.
  • Service fees so high they feel like a hidden second ticket.
  • Parking and rideshare surcharges that rival a dinner bill.
  • Concession prices that turn snacks into luxury items.

Layer on top the sea of glowing phone screens, and an experience that used to feel communal now can feel transactional—something you buy, capture, and post, more than something you live in.

Silhouettes of a concert crowd with hands in the air and colorful stage lights
The energy of live shows is timeless, but in 2025 the price of admission is anything but.

Weddings on Pause: When “I Do” Depends on “If We Can Afford It”

Another story in the BuzzFeed piece hits a different but related nerve: a reader explains how legal and financial drama around a wedding vendor escalated so badly that “they were even planning on suing her.” The writer adds that this has affected them personally—they’re engaged, but the official wedding hasn’t happened yet, only because of the costs.

That’s a quietly devastating sentence. Weddings have always carried a price tag, but in 2025, the cultural expectations—designer dresses, photo-ready venues, cinematic videography, curated playlists, favors, and after-parties—mean what used to be a family celebration now often resembles a Hollywood production.

  • Vendor markups justified as “once in a lifetime” premium experiences.
  • Social media pressure to have a wedding that “looks good online.”
  • Destination ceremonies framed as the new standard rather than the exception.

The result is that a life milestone increasingly feels like a luxury event, postponed or downsized not for emotional reasons, but for budgetary ones.

Newly engaged couple holding hands and looking at an engagement ring by the water
Engagements are happening, but many couples are hitting pause on the full wedding spectacle due to rising costs.

From Everyday Treats to “Little Luxuries”

The BuzzFeed thread taps into a broader cultural rebrand: the rise of “little luxuries.” Streaming subscriptions, café visits, takeaway dinners, movie tickets, and digital game purchases were once casual, even forgettable expenses. Now, with subscription creep and surge pricing, these micro-moments of joy are marketed back to us as “self-care” indulgences.

The language is telling. When everything is a treat, nothing is truly casual anymore. Going to a show, booking a weekend trip, or even planning a birthday dinner starts to feel like a referendum on your financial health.

Hand holding a TV remote in front of a streaming service menu on a screen
Once the cheap alternative to nights out, streaming bundles are quietly becoming a pricey habit.

Creators and critics have been sounding alarms about this shift for years. As film critic and writer various commentators have noted in different contexts, the cost of participating in popular culture is rising even as wages stagnate.

When the baseline price of fun goes up but real incomes don’t, entertainment stops being a release valve and starts being another source of stress.

Phones in the Air: Paying for Experiences We Half-Live

The BuzzFeed commenter who complained about concerts didn’t just focus on money—they also called out crowds and phone use: people are packed together, and everyone is on their phone anyway. That’s a recurring complaint across fandoms: the more we pay for live experiences, the more we mediate them through screens.

It creates a strange tension. Fans are spending unprecedented amounts to be physically present at a concert, sports game, or live event, yet much of the emotional value is oriented toward documentation—evidence that we were there, posted to Instagram, TikTok, or X in real time.

Audience member recording a concert on their smartphone with the stage in the background
The modern paradox: paying premium prices to watch much of the show through a six-inch screen.

Some artists have experimented with phone-free shows or dedicated “recording moments” to rebalance the experience, but culturally, the idea of “pics or it didn’t happen” still dominates. When the cost of admission is this high, the pressure to prove you were there only intensifies.


The Business Behind the Sticker Shock

While the BuzzFeed article collects emotional reactions, the economics behind them are painfully rational. The entertainment and events industries are chasing lost revenue from pandemic shutdowns and capitalizing on pent-up demand.

  • Dynamic pricing & surge models borrowed from airlines and rideshares.
  • Consolidation of promoters, ticketing platforms, and venues, reducing competition.
  • Premium tiers (VIP, early entry, exclusive merch) that normalize higher baselines.

On the consumer side, rising rent, healthcare, and food costs mean less disposable income for non-essentials. So when a concert ticket rivals a utility bill, frustration is inevitable. As multiple analysts have pointed out in pieces for Variety and The Hollywood Reporter, the industry is thriving financially while trust is eroding.

Close-up of a smartphone displaying ticket prices and purchase options for an event
Algorithms quietly control what fans pay, often turning demand into a high-stakes bidding game.

So What Do We Do When Fun Becomes a Luxury?

The anger in BuzzFeed’s comment section isn’t just about money; it’s about access and belonging. Culture—concerts, movies, parties, weddings—has always been how people mark time and build community. When those experiences drift out of reach, it can feel like being quietly pushed to the margins.

  1. Scaling down expectations: Smaller weddings, backyard shows, community film nights.
  2. Prioritizing depth over spectacle: Fewer events, chosen more intentionally.
  3. Supporting local scenes: Indie venues, regional festivals, DIY art shows.

The question isn’t whether people still crave shared experiences—they do. It’s whether the industry will recognize that long-term loyalty can’t be built on short-term extraction.

For now, threads like BuzzFeed’s function as both therapy and testimony. They document a moment when “having fun” feels, as the headline puts it, infuriating—not because people don’t love music, weddings, or nights out, but because loving them increasingly means doing complicated math.

Group of friends enjoying a casual night in with board games and snacks
As big-ticket fun becomes pricier, many people are rediscovering smaller, more affordable ways to be together.

If there’s a hopeful twist, it’s this: culture has never belonged solely to the biggest stages or the most lavish ceremonies. As costs climb, there’s an opening for new forms of connection—messier, cheaper, and maybe, in their own way, more real.