A viral Instagram reel questioning whether amphitheatres, reflexology paths and jacuzzis get used has sparked a wider debate over which housing amenities actually add value.
Sometimes it takes a 60-second video to say what a lot of homebuyers have been quietly thinking for years. A recent Instagram reel called out several amenities commonly found in project brochures, arguing they're built cheap, photograph well, and barely get touched once residents move in. It struck a nerve. The comments split roughly the way you'd expect, plenty of people nodding along, others pushing back that it depends entirely on who's living there.
The reel singled out four in particular. The amphitheatre got the harshest treatment, called the "king of fake amenities," typically ending up as little more than concrete steps where kids occasionally sit, rather than the cultural venue the renders promised. Reflexology walkways, those pebble-lined paths marketed for wellness benefits, were flagged as cheap to build and rarely walked on more than once or twice. Jacuzzis came under fire too, often installed in projects too small for a proper pool, raising an obvious question nobody puts in the brochure: how many residents actually want to share a hot tub with their neighbours. Meditation zones rounded out the list, frequently just a gazebo with some landscaping around it, empty for most of the day.
What's interesting is how closely this maps onto actual buyer behaviour, not just online opinion. Recent surveys cited in coverage of the debate found around 75% of buyers now prioritise larger balconies for ventilation and light, 74% value spacious layouts and solid construction quality, and 31% specifically want a dedicated study or home office. None of that is glamorous. All of it gets used daily, which is precisely the point critics are making about amphitheatres and reflexology paths.
There's a financial angle too, one that gets less attention than the "is it cool or not" debate. Amenities that sit largely unused still eat into a project's open living space, and they still show up on the annual maintenance bill every resident pays, whether they've ever set foot on the reflexology path or not.
To be fair, the defence isn't baseless. Amphitheatres can genuinely host yoga sessions, kids' activity classes or informal community events, but only if the residents' welfare association actually organises them regularly. A senior citizen corner that looks decorative in a brochure photo can be a real daily gathering spot in a community with a lot of older residents. The honest answer, according to most of the commentary around this debate, is that an amenity's value depends less on what it is and more on who's living in the building and how actively the society uses shared spaces.
Some developers have already started reading the room. A shift toward more functionally useful additions, EV charging points, co-working spaces, pet parks, dedicated sports courts, suggests the brochure-amenity arms race may be starting to correct itself.
At Hommea, treat a long amenity list as a starting point for questions, not a reason to decide. Ask how often the amphitheatre gets booked, and whether maintenance charges reflect a genuinely large footprint. Look for projects where amenities tie into an ongoing standard, Whiteland Westin Residences is a good example, where Westin's hospitality service standards back the amenities, not just a one-time brochure list. That's usually a more reliable signal than counting features.
