I absolutely think people need something to look forward to.
But what the 'something' is, and how often it needs to come around, is subject to the forces of capitalism. Capitalism's whole schtick is 'this will make you feel better. Without it, you're deprived. This is what someone of your calibre deserves'.
And if marketing didn't work, they wouldn't spend half their profits doing it - it's as simple as that.
People don't need central heating or washing machines. They can survive without them, of course. But having these things have a tangible and lasting impact on our quality of life. They give us more time, they make us more comfortable and less likely to get sick, etc.
But what is so distinctive about this moment is that the 'extras' that have come to feel like essentials do not actually affect our quality of life - they're primarily about appearance and 'brand'. Pedicures, skincare that's £70 for a month's worth, hair that costs £300 every 8 weeks. A £60K car.
It's so ... meaningless? Fleeting? In the case of the first examples, so fundamentally about the male gaze and our 'worth' as women being tied to our appeal? In the case of the car, so much about making other people feel 'less than'. As for 'brand', the instagrammability of any given moment - the appearance of the thing - is more important than the experience itself.
I'm not arguing for monk-like self-denial. I've never been immune. But when I was younger, I got pleasure from having a Marks and Spencers ready meal and a bottle of wine on a Friday night, seeking out 'posh' fashion bargains in the sales, and an annual bargain-flight-to-Greece-find-accommodation-when-you-get-there holiday that would cost the equivalent of maybe £400 in total.
The people I knew who spent a lot on hair and skincare were posh. I didn't think I had to do that too - I mean, I just knew I couldn't and that was that. It's not that I didn't care at all - I was envious, but I suppose my comfort was that I had a cool look, nice-ish things, stylish interiors, without paying through the nose. Life felt pretty good.
I admit too that I find it all incredibly vulgar. Competing for status through corporate luxury goods is just excruciating.
And fundamentally, caring about these things, to me, seems incredibly naff, because it's a sign both of superficiality, and of having been 'had' by corporate marketing.