Is Luxury Dead in Las Vegas?
Las Vegas still dazzles with restaurants and spectacle, but relentless fees and surcharges are eroding the very sense of ease that defines true luxury.
Photo: Leo Visions / Unsplash
On my last trip to Las Vegas, I cracked open the minibar at the Aria in a midnight moment of weakness and paid for it. Literally. The bottle of Smartwater was $26. The Snickers next to it was $15.75. I didn’t buy the candy, but the price tag stuck with me. Because that single bottle says a lot about what’s gone wrong with Vegas.
Here’s the thing: I actually like Las Vegas. The dining scene right now is arguably the best it’s ever been. Restaurants here aren’t just imports from New York or L.A. anymore. Bellagio’s upcoming Carbone Riviera, for instance, is already one of the most anticipated debuts on the Strip, promising a glossy, theatrical Italian dining experience that will make people want to dress up for dinner again. Vegas has always thrived on spectacle, and nowhere is that clearer than in its restaurants. The food really is excellent, the kind that can carry a trip on its own.
On a recent visit, I toured Fontainebleau, the Strip’s buzziest newcomer. Walking through its marble-lined corridors, I was swept into the Poodle Room, a velvet-and-gold cocktail lounge reserved for members and top-suite guests. It felt like stepping into a hidden club from another era: intimate, glamorous, indulgent. For a moment, it was exactly the kind of over-the-top, exclusive, and transportive luxury that Vegas still knows how to conjure.
But then I noticed the details that break the illusion. Even in Fontainebleau’s spectacular top-tier Fleur de Lis suites, espresso pods come with a surcharge. It’s a small thing, almost petty, but that’s the point. True luxury is supposed to dissolve friction. It’s supposed to make guests feel like every detail has been thought of and taken care of. Charging for espresso pods in a $10,000-a-night suite sends the opposite message: Nothing is included, everything is an upsell.
That friction is starting to show up in the numbers. Visitor volume in June fell 11.3% year over year, convention attendance was down nearly 11%, and room nights occupied dropped almost 10%, according to the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority. Revenue per available room plunged nearly 14%. Across the first half of 2025, visitation is off more than 7%.
Economists cite tariffs, weaker consumer confidence, and a massive drop in Canadian visitation. But behind the macroeconomics is something simpler: Travelers are tired of feeling nickel-and-dimed.
Las Vegas was once defined by its bargain proposition of cheap rooms and buffets, subsidized by the casino floor. That era is long gone. Today, non-gaming revenue is the backbone, which means resort fees, parking charges, $30 cocktails, and, yes, $26 bottles of Smartwater. Instead of indulgence, though, it creates irritation.
The contrast is sharpest when you look at what’s happening elsewhere in the luxury space. All-inclusive resorts in Mexico and the Caribbean are booming because they’ve redefined luxury as predictability. Guests can check in, put their wallets away, and know the essentials are covered. A recent study by TravelAge West found 77% of travelers now opt for all-inclusives to manage costs, while 82% say budget is the first topic raised in planning. In other words, even high-end travelers want transparency. They’ll happily pay more—but not if they feel tricked at every turn.
Meanwhile, Vegas is losing ground internationally. Canadian tourists, which are the Strip’s largest foreign market, are staying away, with visitation projected to fall nearly 19%. Mexican high rollers are scaling back. And U.S. international arrivals overall are forecast to drop by $12.5 billion in 2025, according to the WTTC. Domestic travelers are stepping in, but spending less at restaurants, bars, and retailers than in years past.
Executives insist the downturn is just another cycle, not a crisis. And maybe it is. Las Vegas has always rebounded, from recessions to pandemics. But downturns are shaped by perception. And the perception right now is that Vegas is expensive in the wrong ways. If the choice is between $26 water in Nevada or effortless indulgence at a Mexican beach resort, many travelers will ask: Why bother?
That’s the danger. Because when it’s at its best, Las Vegas really does deliver experiences that can’t be replicated elsewhere, whether that’s a hidden lounge at Fontainebleau or a dazzling new restaurant that becomes the talk of the Strip. But if the city keeps layering fees on top of every espresso pod and pool chair, it risks undercutting the very escapism that built its reputation.
Luxury in Las Vegas isn’t dead yet. But it’s wobbling. And unless the city remembers that true indulgence means never feeling taken, the house may find it doesn’t always win.
