L-PLATES, feather boas, a cheap tiara from Claire's Accessories, lacy tutus, and neon pink "Girls on Tour" T-shirts might be the typical trappings of the modern-day hen-do - but now a new breed of woman is ditching the lethal cocktails, chocolate willies and nipple-tassel-twirling burlesque classes in favour of "Zen Hens" featuring yoga, meditation, crafting or foraging walks in nature.

It might sound as much fun a dose of the flu, but in this era of New Puritanism there is a growing trend for holistic hen weekends, now being offered by an increasing number of companies across Scotland and the UK, including "goddess yoga" sessions and off-grid camping. The trend is marketed at young, middle class brides working long hours and desperate to de-stress ahead of their big day.

Those who thought hen nights were bad enough without having to take part stone-cold sober, might baulk at the idea of swapping the Prosecco for herbal tea and cakes. But others argue that the more chilled-out approach to pre-wedding celebrations is better suited to modern brides-to-be, who are on average over 30-years-old and looking to spend quality time with friends and family, rather than fall over drunk in a gutter in Newcastle.

It's argued 'Zen Hens' also resonate with the so-called "New Puritan" generation of early Millennials, who research suggests drink and smoke less – and have less sex – than previous generations.

Laura Wilson, of Edinburgh's Ayatana Yoga Retreats, claims she has seen a steady rise in women wanting to celebrate their last days of unwedded bliss in "a more healthy and holistic way". She said: "Perhaps the more mature bride-to-be wants to be spoiled in a way that leaves her glowing and rejuvenated rather than hungover and exhausted before her big day."

Hetti Dysch, founder of Babes In The Woods, used her background as a psychotherapist – and traumatic experiences of drunken hen-dos with strippers and burlesque classes – to develop an alternative hen-night in the Malvern Hills that she argues provides something special for women who "can be raucous any day of the week".

She insisted the off-grid camping weekends, including fire making and walks in the wilderness with no plug sockets for phones or hair straighteners, provide a more authentic experience than the "forced fun" of hen weekends. Concessions to more traditional expectations include a hot tub and Prosecco around the fire, and many dos are still organised by bridesmaids.

"We've had brides arrive who have been told to pack their gold bikini and their passport and then we turn up in our cowgirl boots in the jeep, and wellies get brought out of the car," she added. "We will blindfold them and take them to the glamping site in the woods. I always love seeing the bride's face when the blindfold comes off."

However unlikely it sounds, she claimed they have a better time in the woods than on a pub crawl. "Often people don't ever have the chance to experience something truly wild, whether that is debauched or not,"she said. "Wild is now such a trendy word but it's losing its meaning. We try to offer a connection to a deeper sense of what is wild. It's wonderful seeing the women gathered round the fire the next day looking slightly dishevelled and smelling of wood smoke."

Rosie Hazleton who runs Wildrose Escapes in Beauly, Inverness-shire, said "out-doorsy hens" were increasingly popular, especially with women in intense city-based jobs looking for something more memorable then a drunken night out. "These days most woman have such busy lives it’s hard to get all your friends and family together, so when you do it’s far nicer to go walking, make something together, share a meal, enjoy the time, without it having to be a raucous affair," she added.

Sheila Young, who has researched hen-dos for Aberdeen University said she had found evidence of many pre-marriage rituals in Scottish culture for both sexes dating back centuries such as feet washing or "blackening" in which prospective brides and grooms were covered in food and paraded through the streets. Modern hens gained popularity in the UK in the 70s, 80s and 90s. "Traditionally there would have been the idea of this being the last night of freedom, losing the single life and the entering the ties of marriage," she said. "Hen nights are licensed bad behaviour. They allow a deviation from social norms. However I also met lots of educated middle-class women who didn't like hen parties but felt compelled to have them or attend them."

She claims objections included the need to take part in affected "bad behaviour" that was far from spontaneous mischief making.

The Zen hen, she suggested, could be seen as a "get-out clause", offering a celebration without the humiliation. However she insisted the traditional over-the-top hen night – which costs £507 per person on average – was still in good health. "It's gone from a simple night out in the pub to a multi-million pound industry," she said. "I don't think there's any turning back. In my research people complained all the time about costs but they still did it."