Staying hydrated isn’t optional for me; it’s survival. I have Crohn’s disease, and when a flare hits, dehydration is practically guaranteed. That makes drinking enough water all the more important, especially with the medications I take daily. Add in antidepressants that make me prone to overheating, and summer heatwaves can leave me sick to my stomach. I know hydration is key to keeping my body balanced, but most days, drinking plain water feels more like a chore than a relief.
Part of it is sensory. I have ADHD and autism, and my body can be picky about textures and flavors. Flavored powders taste like they sit on a throne of lies, as they’re often either too gritty, too pungent, or overly artificial in taste, while sparkling water’s carbonation makes my stomach hurt. I usually stick to juices or lactose-free milk because they’re comforting and predictable, but then I discovered Liquid Death.
A prior job at a grocery store often had me believing Liquid Death was a brand of beer, so when I spotted it in the refrigerated section of Sheetz, tucked between the teas and bottled waters, I was a bit confused. The skull logo and tattoo-style branding definitely didn’t scream “hydration,” but then I noticed it was labeled as Mountain Water, a still drinking water, and I figured, why not?
While waiting for my curly fries, I cracked one open and took a sip. It tasted clean, crisp even, and I could practically feel my body thanking me. For the first time in forever, water didn’t feel like an obligation. It felt good. I downed the whole can before my food was ready and made sure it was on my list for my next trip to the grocery store. Now, I can’t help but wonder: did Liquid Death actually change how I hydrate, or does it just feel that way because of its packaging and vibe?
Can the packaging change how you hydrate?
After consulting Dr. Jay Luthar, an integrative medicine physician, founder of Lutanen Health, and instructor at Harvard Medical School, I learned that the way water is packaged can actually change how often we drink it. Dr. Luthar told me that it’s not always about what’s inside the container. It’s often about how the container makes us feel.
“If something is packaged well, people are more likely to do it,” he explained. “People like drinking out of straws, so they like the silicone nozzles on things, and that makes them more likely to grab their liquid container and drink from it.”
In other words, Liquid Death’s alternative, punk rock branding isn’t the only kind of packaging that can nudge us to hydrate. Even something as simple as a reusable glass or stainless steel bottle, or a design with markings that remind you to sip, can make drinking water feel more natural and less like a chore.
Are any drink containers truly safe, or does it just feel that way?
After learning how packaging design can shape our habits, I started wondering what that meant for the materials themselves. Plastic bottles have been my go-to for years, mostly because they were easy, until I learned that “easy” might come with baggage we don’t fully understand yet.
When I spoke with Dr. William Li, a researcher and author who studies how everyday choices impact long-term health, he explained that our awareness of plastic’s impact is still catching up to its use. “Plastics have been around for more than 50 years and they’ve been everywhere in our environment,” he said. “It’s only recently, I would say, in the last few years that our awareness and alarm has been raised because of the discovery of microplastics and nanoplastics, and we’re finding them everywhere.”
Dr. Li added, “Plastics don’t belong in the body. We do have some emerging evidence that these microplastics are associated with increased inflammation and so if you are somebody that has inflammatory conditions or autoimmune conditions and you want to be doubly careful, it is a choice that we can make to try to minimize our contact with microplastics or plastics in general, although it’s impossible to do completely.
For people like me, with autoimmune conditions that already involve inflammation, that last part hits close to home, but he reminded me that the solution isn’t fear, it’s awareness. “Drinking out of an aluminum can isn’t a get-out-of-jail card for avoiding microplastics. We have to pick our battles.”
That idea reframed how I see Liquid Death’s whole brand. They’ve never claimed to be perfect; their tallboy-style cans are lined to prevent that metallic taste, just like every other aluminum beverage. What sets them apart is how transparently they lean into that imperfection. The skull-covered cans are stamped with #DeathtoPlastic, the company’s donations to fight pollution, and their tone, somewhere between satire and sincerity, makes sustainability feel punk, not preachy.
It’s not that Liquid Death is “healthier” than bottled water. It’s that it makes drinking water feel like an intentional act instead of an afterthought, and while no container is completely free from plastic, Dr. Jay Luthar told me that choosing reusable glass or stainless steel bottles whenever possible is still the safest move. For me, Liquid Death became more of a bridge. It’s the brand that got me to care again about staying hydrated long enough to consider reaching for something reusable.
The doctors’ orders (and my two cents)
Dr. Luthar reminded me that stainless steel and glass bottles are the safest bets, as most other containers sneak in some level of plastic. Dr. Li echoed that aluminum cans aren’t a free pass either, since they usually have a lining to prevent a metallic taste.
But here’s the thing: I’m not tossing out every Liquid Death can in my fridge. The aluminum isn’t why I reach for it. It’s the experience, the bold graphics, the alternative-punk energy, and the tongue-in-cheek attitude toward sustainability. It makes hydration feel like a choice I actually want to make. Those cans have gotten me to drink more water than I have in years, which feels huge when managing Crohn’s and keeping up with medications that make staying hydrated essential.
Am I still trying to build a reusable bottle habit? Absolutely, but Liquid Death works as a bridge. It’s convenient, it makes me look forward to drinking water, and it reminds me that hydration can be fun. Even if I eventually replace most of these cans with glass or stainless steel, I know I wouldn’t have gotten here without their irreverent, in-your-face branding nudging me along.