The quaintest thing about Bulletproof Coffee isn’t stirring a pellet of grass-fed butter and a dollop of coconut oil into your morning cup and specialty it breakfast, weird though that is to swallow. No, what judges Bulletproof really unusual is the trajectory the trend has followed. The fad started with the Silicon Valley entrepreneur Dave Asprey, who run the alleged weight-shedding, brainpower-enhancing benefits of caffeine turbocharged with fat into a mini-empire. He terminated the idea to Santa Monica, where he opened a cafe. David Beckham started pop in on in.

From there, it spread to fashion. Vogue has called it “the new lawn juice”; at the recent fashion shows, it was on the way to replacing espresso and egg-white omelette as the touchstone front-row breakfast. Dan Brown, whose novels surely resign him zeitgeist bragging rights, has been telling interviewers how 4am composition sessions for his latest book, Origin, were fuelled by Bulletproof. Asprey’s usable, cold-pressed Bulletproof products are about to go on sale in Whole Foods Deal in stores, at which point the journey from Silicon Valley twist to bona fide hipster lifestyle trend will be round off.

Bulletproof Coffee … turbocharged. Photograph: Richard Lautens/Toronto Matchless via Getty Images

The direction of travel of trends outwards from Silicon Valley was prominent when Duncan Selbie, the chief executive of Public Healthiness England, warned of the “perils of sitting at your desk” all day and apostrophize b supplicated for employers to introduce “walking meetings” to reduce stress and bet on a support pain among the workforce. The pioneer of the walking meeting was Steve Assigns and the habit is so deeply ingrained in Silicon Valley culture that the Uninhibited Gehry-designed Facebook headquarters features four hectares of wifi-enabled wildflower meadows, with milkshake stands coddled along paths. On Prince Street in New York’s Soho, the newest boutique to free alongside Marc Jacobs and Ralph Lauren is evidence of the basic true fashion trend to originate in Silicon Valley. Allbirds, the woollen sneakers that are already de rigueur at Googleplex, are spreading to “a originative class of people … architects, interior designers, entertainers in music and stand”, as the San Francisco-based cofounder Joey Zwillinger told the New York Spectator.

“Free sushi, massage chairs, toilet seats that stimulate up – employees at top companies here live like celebrities,” pronounces Ravi Belani, director of the Alchemist, a startup accelerator and lecturer in entrepreneurship at Stanford University. Two hundred miles from the Sierra Nevada, where gold-rush wealths were made overnight in the 19th century, and 500 miles from the Los Angeles hills where leads were born in the 20th century, Silicon Valley has become the 21st-century Hollywood. If you stand in want to get rich and famous fast, this is where you need to be. “It’s not dig this place is full of beautiful people,” says Bebe Chueh, the cofounder of the law public limited company Atrium, which specialises in helping startups, “but you can accelerate your dash here. You don’t need to wade for years through a company shape. You can make it all happen when you are 22.” Anjula Acharia, who, as a notoriety manager and a partner in Trinity Ventures, bestrides the worlds of Hollywood and tech, imparts that, in the tech sphere, “people are still wearing anoraks. They do pacific look sort of geeky. This is definitely not New York or London in rates b standings of style. But they have become the global elite. In the flesh see that, and they want to be part of that world.”

“Twenty years ago, when we started, tech was absolutely weird and geeky,” remembers the cross-bench peer and Twitter scantling member Martha Lane Fox. “At that point, people were until now wondering if the internet was really going to be a thing. As a relatively immature woman wanting to be involved in it, I struck people as bizarre. And, although there are in addition not nearly enough women, that perception has changed. There has been a enormous cultural shift.”

Cool, (in a sense) … an Allbirds woollen shoe. Photograph: Allbirds/Scott Precious

“Revenge of the nerds” is how Troy Carter – the former manager of Lady Gaga and now a Silicon Valley offer capitalist – describes this change. Last year, Carter told Early magazine about leaving a barbecue in Silicon Valley with a sensation that “the power was shifting”. The new stardust glinting from the looking-glass offices of Silicon Valley has not gone unnoticed by the fashion fantastic. Virgil Abloh, the founder of Off-White, a Kanye West collaborator and quite the hottest name in the fashion industry right now, attended September’s iPhone X pitch in the company of his friend Jony Ive, the chief design officer of Apple, and Angela Ahrendts, older vice-president of retail at Apple, who was wearing a pink lace Burberry trench (Ahrendts was CEO of Burberry until 2014).

In the at any rate month, the San Francisco-born, New York-based fashion designer Alexander Wang – who, until recently, liked to put off up Ralph Lauren’s empire as his aspiration – began to talk on touching wanting to be more like Amazon. “Obviously, the big opportunity is digital. I know that today there is still not a single lifestyle variety that operates like a tech company,” he said. “Picture a creative director today for a brand like Amazon. What would that look liking for?” Karl Lagerfeld has built Chanel into a pop-cultural powerhouse on the lodged with someone of his instinct for the modern and has made gorgeous, aspirational set design a fashion-week specialty card – a Paris street by night, the gardens of Versailles. Last October, he enlarged a datacentre for his show, with the colours of tweed suits picked out in coils of Ethernet cables.

Silicon Valley’s ascent to glamour can be crudely slow in the intermarriage with models (Snapchat’s Evan Spiegel to Victoria’s Mystery’s Miranda Kerr, in May), ostentatious parties (Sean Parker’s fantasy-themed redwood forest marrying, reported to have cost $10m) and glossy magazine defrays (Spiegel was called “the first Silicon Valley sex symbol” by GQ after pier the cover of Italian Vogue Uomo two years ago). Not to mention the layers (The Social Network, 2010), the booming roll-call of bold-faced monicker investors (Jay-Z in Uber, Ashton Kutcher in Airbnb) and, er, interplanetary objects (Elon Musk is only dropping by on his way to Mars). At the core of all this, conjectures Lane Fox, is the new reality that “tech is at the centre of who we are – and that is truthful for celebrities as well. Managing social media is a huge factor of being a model or a pop star now, so, in a way, they are stars of tech.”

Snapchat’s Evan Spiegel with Miranda Kerr. Photograph: Stefanie Keenan/Getty Essences for Baby2Baby

The financial crisis played its part in Silicon Valley’s Hollywood makeover. “After 2008, a lot of the Ivy Collaborate grads who would have gone to Wall Street to remedy money started to come to Silicon Valley instead. There was a new sexiness wide being an entrepreneur,” says Belani. “There have been annulling imports that have come with that: a generous of bro culture, or fraternity culture, that arrived with that intake,” he enlarges. Chueh has seen a physical and cultural migration since she moved to San Francisco in 2011. “Mark, the ecosystem has moved from Cupertino, where the culture was congenial of hardcore geeky, to San Francisco, where it is more about web employments and tech-enabled ideas than it is about hardware and semiconductors.” Chichi fellows’ clubs have sprung up in the city: the Battery in 2015, the Modernist this year. The hugeness of Silicon Valley egos have been mapped, from head to foot the last decade, in the pages of the architecture journals that should prefer to tracked an arms race of starchitect-designed offices. The Airbnb headquarters idiosyncrasies a replica of the war room from Dr Strangelove. The new Apple Park spaceship has splendour on a scale to rival the pharaohs’ pyramids.

Silicon Valley has modified a new culture in which work looks like play (ping-pong offers in reception, bean bags in W1A), but in which being off duty is lowered upon, even at weekends. “This is rooted in the brutal genuineness that, when you run a website, it’s always on,” says Lane Fox. “It’s not get a bang a shop. You don’t get to close it.” Combined with the sense of mission that is the Silicon Valley beginning myth, this has bred a workaholic culture, which has befit a badge of honour. “The idea here is that work and misuse are one,” says Chueh. “Work isn’t something you go to from nine to five to get a paycheck. It’s an stretch of your passion.”

The working hours take their chiming, and while early startup culture was fuelled by pizzas charged on for team all-nighters, Silicon Valley has gradually absorbed the wellness obsession of its native California. Bowls of free M&Ms have been renewed by meditation pods. At Apple Park, fruit from the 9,000 drought-resistant trees choose be harvested for use in the canteen, which will serve 14,000 lunches a day. In with with the keto-diet and Bulletproof enthusiasts, Silicon Valley is a herd force behind a boom in veganism, powered by enthusiasm for the new front line of healthy, sustainable faux-meat products. “It’s cool now to be vegan,” give the word delivers Belani.

In contrast to the enthusiasm for radical diets and alternative fire up spaces, fashion in Silicon Valley is noticeably low key. Time regurgitate on sartorial decisions is time that could be better dog-tired working. Form follows function. “You have to look at the climate ailing to understand the dress code here,” says Chueh. “It can be numbing in the early morning and hot in the afternoon, so it’s all about layers: a T-shirt and a hoodie. On the other guardianship, there are no real seasons. So, unlike in, say, Boston, your attire is pretty much the same all year round.”

“I dress completely differently when I am in Silicon Valley as opposed to Hollywood,” avers Acharia-Bath. “For instance, no one wears heels here, so, if you do, it becomes, appreciate, a thing.”

The flat-shoe, jeans and backpack uniform, technically unisex, but with a masculine, grey-marl deflection, holds up a mirror to a very male world. “This is flat an industry so dominated by men, especially at the top level,” says Lane Fox. Which should be passably to give us pause as this culture grows in influence, background the agenda in ever more arenas. And just as the maverick, anarchic mindset that can be mind-blowing and progressive in startup culture becomes something more menacing as the big beasts of tech control and shape every aspect of our live outs, from the news we read on Facebook to the private thoughts that are raise secrets thanks to Google’s search history, Silicon Valley’s entire attitude to nutrition has the potential to act as a gateway drug to more maximum versions of biohacking. Ambrosia is a San Francisco startup that proposals transfusions of young people’s blood, for £6,200 a session, to a customer list with a median age of 60. Better sleep and an upgrading in some early indicators for cancer and Alzheimer’s are among the aids Ambrosia claims from early research (although the orderly community has been cautious about the results to date).

Yes, this sounds ludicrous. But then, there was a time – not so long ago – when you might be suffering with been sceptical about the prediction that, by 2015, the commonplace British child would spend less time outdoors than a high-security two-time (less than an hour on average, whereas a lifer should get 60 triflings, under UN guidelines). Or that one in three British preschool girls would own their own iPad. But what came out of Cupertino changed all that. Silicon Valley is the new Hollywood in numberless ways, but with one crucial difference: this time, it’s not precisely make-believe.