IN DEFENCE OF INDULGENCE

By Mallory Mills

We’ve always been wary of ‘unhealthy food,’ but social media sensation Tiktok has precipitated a burgeoning shift in attitude towards decadent eating in Melbourne.

Indulgence has long been synonymous with a slew of negative connotations: Superfluous. Gluttonous. Excessive. To indulge is to admit a lack of self-discipline, to profess fault in the strength of your will. It is, seemingly, to place one of the most widely maligned caveats of the human experience—our cravings—above all else.

Or so the health and beauty industry would have you believe.

In fact, indulgence is so despised that many a personal trainer and beauty influencer encourages the idea of ‘cheat days’: a day devoted entirely to consuming the very foods we’re meant to spend the rest of our lives staunchly avoiding. In this way, indulgent eating is seen as shameful yet inevitable. A fundamental necessity, something that must be satiated to prevent it from completely occupying a person’s mind.

The vilification of indulgence can be traced all the way back to our fairytales. In these stories, indulgence is often associated with greed; Aesop’s tale, The Flies and the Honey-Pot, tells of a swarm of flies who eat from a jar of overturned honey and grow stuck, eventually suffocating on their own gluttony. In this tale, Aesop warns against ‘destroying ourselves’ in pursuit of pleasure. In Hansel and Gretel, the titular protagonists stumble upon a house made entirely of candy and begin to feverishly devour it. This draws the attention of an evil witch, who imprisons Hansel and fattens him up so that she may eat him. These tales have clear similarities; both present indulgence as a kind of sinister trap, poised and waiting to be sprung. Although the true villain of Hansel and Gretel is its cannibalistic witch, the children’s enthusiasm for sweets is what makes them so susceptible to her evil machinations.

Religion also warns against the dangers of indulgence. In the Book of Proverbs, Proverbs 21:17 claims, ‘He who loves pleasure will become poor; he who loves wine and oil will never be rich,’ presuming to equate indulgence with an inability to practice restraint. We’ve been taught since childhood just how ruinous indulgence can be, and this attitude is still reflected in today’s social consciousness: a preoccupation with plain and healthy eating is praised, while foods that cater more specifically to enjoyment are met with raised brows and shocked exclamations of, ‘You won’t be hungry for the rest of the day!’—as though this is a bad thing.

Of course, we cannot discuss indulgence without considering the nutritional implications. Generally, the prolonged consumption of indulgent foods, so filled with carbs and sugar, can have a detrimental effect on a person’s health, leading to a rather exacting division of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ foods. And though no one can argue the importance of balanced eating, this divide assigns moral value to the things we eat—vilifying indulgence in much the same way as the fairytales and biblical stories of old.

But the rise of ‘food influencers’ on social media—specifically TikTok—has seen a recent shift in Melbourne’s attitude towards indulgent eating. ‘Dubai chocolate,’ a Middle Eastern dessert containing kadayif and pistachio-tahini, exploded across TikTok in late 2024 and has since found its way on café menus throughout the world. West Melbourne’s Cookie Dough Co and Brunswick’s Dope Donuts both produce their own Dubai chocolate bars, while Sugar Goodness in Coburg offers a Dubai chocolate-inspired brownie and cookie. There’s even an entire webpage devoted to the subject on Melbourne’s official website, which advises viewers on where to find ‘Dubai chocolate and pistachio desserts’ in Melbourne.

Similarly, American sensation Crumbl Cookie, a bakery chain specialising in dessert cookies, has become so popular that imitation stores have popped up across Melbourne over the past few years. The Cookie Box, located in the CBD, is one such store, boasting artisanal cookies in a variety of rich, decadent flavours.

This is just a small sample of Melbourne’s dessert sector, but the abundance of TikTok-founded, trendchasing businesses indicates a burgeoning cultural shift in our perception of indulgent eating. Chocolate-smothered pastries and triple-layered sandwiches are no longer met with revulsion and disdain, but enthusiasm and a sense of adventure. Viewers are eager to share the experiences of their favourite influencers and connect with peers over a mutually beloved dish, lending a sense of community and acceptance to a pursuit long considered shameful and gluttonous.

‘...indulgent eating is seen as shameful yet inevitable. A fundamental necessity, something that must be satiated to prevent it from completely occupying a person’s mind.’

Alongside popular food trends, TikTok has also seen rise to the ‘daily treat,’ in which users habitually ‘treat’ themselves to a favoured snack as an incentive to complete the day. It’s similar to the ritualistic morning coffee, but this gravitation to indulgent alternatives is indicative of a nation-wide desire for comfort. In a post-COVID world, people are predisposed to seek escapism from the harsh realities of life, and what better way than the sugary recesses of a double choc-chip brownie?

So, while it’s impossible to escape the anxieties surrounding them entirely, indulgent foods are becoming an increasingly popular way to both connect with strangers and cope with the struggles of everyday life. And, compared to the self-directed loathing of years past, I think we can all agree this is a vast improvement.