“Every brand is trying to crack how to ‘build community’ as a key to unlocking growth and fandom, but I think a lot are missing the point,” declared Andy Miller, the CEO of Heaps Normal. “Real community can’t be manufactured.” On a prolific industrial strip in Marrickville, Miller, alongside co-founders Jordy Smith and Ben Holdstock, have built something that currently occupies a different position in Australian retail: a non-alcoholic brewery. The venue – part social club, event
ent space and brand world – was recently named among the coolest retail experiences globally by the World Retail Congress and The General Store.
The ranking placed Heaps Normal alongside names like Zara, Rolex and Erewhon. The Heaps Normal Health Club, attached to the brewery in Sydney’s Inner West, functions simultaneously as a venue, retail environment and social commons where customers move between DJ sets, talks, parties and beverages, alcoholic and ‘nolo’. The business itself had a formidable 2025. Heaps Normal expanded into the UK, entering more than 170 British pubs and shops and securing the backing of Robbie Williams as an investor.
Miller insists the company has never framed itself as a moral corrective to drinking culture. “Heaps Normal has never preached about sobriety. As a brand, we don’t really care about how much or how little alcohol you drink. For us, it’s always been about giving you more ways to play,” he told Inside Retail. “We want to show that play is the ultimate form of wellness. And play is messy, chaotic, weird, funny, loud [and] quiet. It’s personal, and it changes, so we’re creating a space that can be as flexible and dynamic as that.” The commercial timing is beneficial; research cited by ANZ forecasts the global non-alcoholic beverage market will reach US$43 billion by 2027, while non-alcoholic beer has become Australia’s fastest-growing drinks segment.
A different kind of wellness
The Health Club itself is best understood as a wager against algorithmic living. Miller describes it as “a different kind of wellness” focused on sociality rather than optimisation. “There’s always going to be a healthy tension between culture and commerce, and it’s something we are constantly testing as a business,” he said. “The Health Club is an operational bar where you can come and buy a round of drinks for your friends, but at its core it’s a space for a different kind of ‘wellness’ that’s based on throwing a better party.” He argues that many brands misunderstand community because they approach it as an engineered growth tactic rather than as something that requires spontaneity and camaraderie.
That appetite for congregation arrives at a humbling moment for hospitality. Last year, Fifth Quadrant’s SME Sentiment Tracker found that 57 per cent of Australian hospitality businesses reported declining revenue over the past year, while only 45 per cent returned a profit, the weakest performance of any sector calculated. Yet independent breweries have emerged as one of the few resilient sectors, expanding operations and hiring staff amid contraction. Analysts attribute that durability to the “brewpub” model, where breweries own the venue where their product is consumed. The arrangement offers margin control, direct consumer relationships and an intimate form of brand participation. Marrickville’s brewing corridor has become a vivid Australian case study.
Across Sydney’s Inner West Ale Trail, Young Henrys has embedded itself in the live music and arts community. Philter Brewing built its venue inside a former yoghurt factory as a tribute to Marrickville’s industrial lineage. Hawke’s Brewing Co transformed former prime minister Bob Hawke into a national beer brand. For these operators, the venue itself becomes inseparable from the product proposition, and as customers purchase and participate alongside the drink, breweries resemble experiential retailers wearing the garments of hospitality.
Miller suspects the deeper appeal lies in unpredictability, a quality digital commerce has spent years erasing. “I think we’re all craving physical spaces that help us connect, that let us focus on what we’re seeing or hearing or tasting, not just a templated ‘experience’ that can then be commoditised and leveraged in some way,” he said. “The Health Club is there to hopefully help you be your weirdest, most real self, without judgment.” Asked whether people simply miss accidentally colliding with conversation, music and strangers, Miller said candidly, “I hope so! Surprise, unpredictability and friction within a creative context are all ingredients for a radical way of living right now.”