I have a confession: I’ve bought at least three wellness gadgets, two miracle supplements, and one questionable jade roller because the packaging promised “ancient secrets” and a better morning. Some worked. Some didn’t. One I still have in a drawer, a reminder that good intentions don’t automatically translate to good purchases.
If you’re anything like me — curious, slightly skeptical, and happy to try something new if it might improve your day — you’ll appreciate a short checklist to ask before buying any wellness product. The goal is simple: avoid wasting money, time, and hope. Below are the practical, slightly wry questions I now run through before I click “buy.”
What problem am I actually trying to solve?
This is the most useful question, and the one I often skip when dazzled by sleek design or glowing reviews. Be specific. Instead of “I want more energy,” try “I want to stop hitting the 3pm slump without caffeine.” Different problems need different solutions: a supplement for chronic fatigue requires a different approach than a meditation app for stress management.
Write it down. If the product doesn’t clearly map to your stated problem, it’s probably a nice-to-have, not a need-to-try.
Is there evidence it works — and what kind?
“Clinically proven” is seductive. But what does that actually mean? Here are tiers of evidence I look for:
- High-quality clinical trials: peer-reviewed, randomized, controlled studies are the gold standard for supplements and devices. If a company cites these, skim the abstract: was the sample big enough? Was the study independent?
- Mechanistic plausibility: does the product do something that makes sense biologically or behaviorally? A blue-light blocking lamp for shifting circadian rhythm has plausible mechanics; a bracelet that “balances energy” usually doesn’t.
- User-reported outcomes: reviews and testimonials matter, but context is key. Look for detailed reviews mentioning how long they used the product and any downsides.
If you’re buying a supplement, check resources like PubMed or ConsumerLab. For devices, look for FDA clearance (if relevant), CE marks (for certain markets), or independent lab testing.
What’s the total cost — not just the headline price?
“$39 starter kit!” looks tempting until you realize it requires monthly refills, proprietary pods, or a subscription. I calculate a simple “cost per effective use” before purchasing. For example:
| Product type | Upfront cost | Recurring cost | Estimated cost per use |
|---|---|---|---|
| Cold plunge tub | $400 | $10/month (electricity/maintenance) | $1–$3 per session (depending on frequency) |
| Sleep supplement | $25 | $25/month | $0.80 per night (30 capsules) |
| Smart toothbrush | $120 | Replacement heads $8 every 3 months | $0.89–$2 per brush |
That table helps you compare apples to apples. I once bought a subscription meditation app because the per-month price seemed tiny — until I realised I rarely used it and had effectively paid $5 per minute of actual practice. Ouch.
How will I know if it’s working for me?
Set a measurable, time-bound test. If you’re trying a Vitamin D supplement, measure baseline levels and re-check after three months. If it’s a posture-correcting gadget, give it four weeks and note changes in discomfort or posture. I like small, objective markers: hours slept, pain scale, number of days I meditated, or whether I skipped caffeine.
If you can’t think of a clear success metric, pause. Many wellness products create subtle subjective shifts that are hard to measure — and easy to rationalise as “it might be helping.”
Are there side effects or safety concerns?
Everything has trade-offs. Supplements can interact with medications. Devices can overheat or emit light at uncomfortable frequencies. Look for safety data, contraindications, and clear instructions. If you have a health condition, ask your clinician — and don’t rely solely on company FAQs.
I once tried a high-intensity wearable that promised metabolic insights; after a week my skin was irritated where the strap sat. Minor, but something I hadn’t anticipated because the promotional materials focused on “data,” not comfort.
What’s the return policy and trial period?
A generous refund window is a sign the company trusts its product. I prefer at least 30 days to form a fair opinion. For subscriptions, check cancellation terms — some auto-renew and bury cancellation links in tiny print. If a product needs several weeks to show an effect (like probiotics), make sure the return policy covers that timeframe.
Who makes it and what do they care about?
Research the brand. Are they transparent about sourcing, ingredients, and manufacturing? Do they publish third-party lab results? Small brands can be great — but they should still be accountable. Social media marketing alone isn’t verification.
Also consider values: if sustainability matters to you, check packaging, shipping, and ingredient sourcing. If privacy matters, check the app’s data practices. I recently favored a smaller sleep-mask maker over a bigger brand because they shared supplier information and had a clear repair policy.
Is this solving the root cause or just a Band‑Aid?
Some products meaningfully address an underlying issue. Others are clever distractions that make you feel proactive. For example, a sound machine can help bedtime routines (root cause: poor sleep hygiene), while sleeping pills may mask the symptom without addressing why sleep is poor.
I like combining small habit changes with products that support those habits. A sunrise alarm is more effective when paired with a consistent wind-down routine than when used alone.
How easy is it to integrate into my life?
Usability matters. A gorgeous meditation cushion is useless if it’s so big you can’t find space for it. A supplement that requires refrigeration and a strict dosing schedule is less likely to stick than one you can take with breakfast.
Think about maintenance: charging, cleaning, battery life, app updates, and replacements. I once loved a water filter that required rare replacement cartridges — great for taste, not great for my patience or monthly budget.
What trade-offs am I willing to accept?
Every decision is a trade-off: cost vs. convenience, natural vs. pharmaceutical, immediate relief vs. long-term change. Be explicit about your trade-offs. If you want quick results and accept side effects, that’s a different purchase than prioritising slow, low-risk interventions.
Ask yourself: is this purchase aligned with my values and my willingness to commit? If not, it’s probably impulse territory.
Quick decision checklist (copy this)
- What specific problem am I solving?
- What evidence supports this product?
- What’s the true total cost?
- How will I measure success, and in what timeframe?
- Are there safety concerns or interactions?
- What is the return/trial policy?
- Who makes it and are they transparent?
- Is it addressing the root cause or a temporary fix?
- Can I realistically integrate it into my routine?
- What trade-offs am I accepting?
When I run through these questions, purchases become clearer. Sometimes the answer is “Buy it” — often with a note to set a reminder to evaluate in four weeks. Sometimes the answer is “Not yet,” which saves money and the drawer-of-regrets outcome. Curiosity is great. A little structure prevents curiosity from becoming costly hobbyism.