Those who are not men in need of “fashion” “essentials” or “luxury” advice would typically have missed a video from a “tips for men” account on X. For the users still haunting the purgatory that is that website, the clip, which follows a man in an exceedingly gray apartment going through his morning routine, doesn’t, on first glance, ring alarm bells. X is a minefield of weird content these days, and this would ordinarily be yet another post to scroll past. But there’s a flash of cobalt blue that catches the eye. Then again… and again.
In the video, which was first posted on TikTok a month ago, fitness coach Ashton Hall theatrically dives into a no-diving pool, smears a banana peel over his face after eating said banana, takes a dubious work call and eats eggs and bacon prepared by a faceless person in the (again, gray) kitchen. But what people are most delighting in dunking on—no pun intended, but you’ll see why that’s funny in a second—is the slew of Saratoga water bottles that accompany him each step of the way. At 3:54 a.m., he brushes his teeth with the “premium bottled water.” At 4:04, it’s by his side as he does some morning push-ups. He drinks it at 4:55 while watching what sounds like a sermon. At 5:46—and this is perhaps the most chaotic—he pours it into a glass bowl filled with ice, then dunks his face into it, like a head-only cold plunge. By my count, a Saratoga bottle appears on screen at least eight more times after that.
@ashtonhallofficialDay 191 of the morning routine that changed my life 3:50am to 9:30am Sin lives late at night.. if you’re dealing with a weak mind, bad decisions, or lack of productivity go to sleep early. 4:00am – 8:00am no one’s calling or distracting your productivity.. they are sleep. 8:00pm – 12:00am is the opposite. Just try 30 days.. send this to your partners. It’s time to do better.♬ original sound – Worthy Supps
Like the contents of a conspicuous bottle of Saratoga into a double-walled glass mug, the jokes poured in. Hall was dubbed “Saratoga water dude.” People pointed out that he does this a lot. The official Empire State Building account had a laugh, as did Saratoga. The video birthed a canon of copycats and nods to the routine with photos of the bottles at the grocery store. In true internet fashion, some criticized the performative nature of taking said photos.
Many believed the video was sponsored, though that seems unlikely. The sadder reality is that it’s not. But why shill for a pseudo-luxury water brand?
My guess is that Hall is one of the influencers doing fake “sponcon” for street cred, pretending to be paid for, supposedly, doing what he already does every morning. And why not? The entire genre of “routine” content online is built on conceit. The videos endure because, as Sophie Haigney writes in The New York Times, they appeal to voyeurism while also being “curiously devoid of real intimacy.” A routine is an aspiration: to have order, to be the kind of CEO who can flippantly say, “we got to go ahead and get it to at least 10,000,” to have made it.
In that way, the Saratoga bottle isn’t truly luxury—and not just because the water snobs out there say so. When I watch Hall’s video, I think back to a couple of years ago, during the boom of the Beverage Girlies, when young people online were deeming their seltzers as “treats” only to find themselves not feeling relaxed or indulgent, but stuck in the grind. The “functional” beverages were turning rest into more work, only now it was toward having a healthy gut. And having a three-drink rotation on your office desk sounds nice, until you realize that you’ve precluded yourself from having a moment to recharge—there’s no time for getting up, taking a break and going to the fridge when you’re hustling. Though his top comments call him “unemployment final boss,” I think about the grind when I watch Hall’s video. The effort in setting up each shot. The self-conscious need to show something a little more aspirational than tap.
Then again, to follow a routine as regimented as Hall’s is also to surrender to it. You don’t need to make choices, least of all about what you’re drinking. I think back to what Punch contributor Jordan Michelman wrote about his consumption of La Croix, which he described as “reflexive, habitual, desultory”—a bit like an emotional support Saratoga—“a drink to drink when I didn’t feel like using my brain.”
