Perth’s Final Plague: The Pilates Princess Pandemic

Scarborough isn’t short on two things: ocean views and Pilates studios. Every third shopfront is a reformer-bed wonderland, and every second Instagram follower is a newly minted PT. There are a jaw-dropping 37 Pilates studios within 5km of my house. This isn’t just a fitness trend, it’s Perth’s final plague: the Pilates Princess pandemic.

Working at a café and living in the heart of Perth’s western suburbs, I’ve had a front-row seat to the outbreak. Every walk with my dog takes me past another sleek, pastel-painted studio. My Instagram feed is a relentless carousel of friends launching instructor accounts, glossy grand-opening announcements, and Gen Z customers gushing about their latest “burn.” Just yesterday, I got a follow request from sophdoespilates, a friend’s new page dedicated to documenting her latest fitness fixation. Even my workmates drop “core engagement” into casual morning chats like it’s small talk.

But Pilates in Scarborough isn’t just exercise, it’s a socially coded performance. On Instagram and TikTok, the reformer isn’t a machine; it’s a stage. Wellness has been commodified and aestheticised to the point of parody. It’s less about building muscle and more about crafting a personal brand dripping with curated self-improvement and performative wellness. Think $150 matching activewear, $300-a-month memberships, and collagen-laced coffees, it’s wellness sold as an elite subscription, not a lifestyle.

This class coded obsession of the Pilates Princess thrives in affluent enclaves where disposable income, flexible schedules, and an eye for Instagram aesthetics collide. Like most trends born on social media, it’s spreading faster than you can say “neutral spine.” The reformer bed has become a velvet rope into the VIP lounge of wellness culture.

To be fair, Pilates has real benefits it’s low impact, adaptable, and posture friendly. But in the self-surveilling, looksmaxxing corners of current internet culture, the act of working out now matters as much as the results. It’s about how you look mid-plank, not how you feel after class. Just three days ago, Afterglo Pilates studio in Karrinyup posted a TikTok captioned, “She swapped screen time for spine articulation. Iconic behaviour.” Like, I’m sorry, but what does that even mean??

Maybe I’m just bitter because I’ve refused to sip the collagen Kool-Aid. I’m fit, healthy, and right in the age bracket for this trend, but I’ll take a salty ocean swim, a run with my dog, or a sunny walk over paying $300 a month for a personality.

In Scarborough, Pilates is no longer a workout, it’s theatre. And whether you’re buying tickets or not, the show’s not closing any time soon!