When the HelloGiggles editors asked us to pick a “fad diet” to experiment with, I took a look at the list and decided that I – the surly, cynical, male writer who eats chicken cutlet sandwiches several meals a week – was the best candidate for a 7-day detox diet written by queen Goop herself, Gwyneth Paltrow.
Gwyneth and her “weekly lifestyle letter” Goop have been ridiculed for the perceived preciousness and Marie Antoinette-like obliviousness found in each issue. According to critics, Gwyneth has no idea what it’s like to not be a famous movie star, and her lifestyle tips reflect this. Critics also claim her tips are quite obvious, “In short, 95 percent of what she will ever mention has already occurred to you, and you’ve been crying for months about being unable to afford most of it,” said The Cut.
Going on a GOOP 7-day ‘holiday detox’ in the middle of the summer seemed like a great idea.
Of course, immediately after I committed to a week of Goop-mandated eating, I found out that I’d been scooped (Gooped?): The Cut had already done the self-experimental Goop diet thing, and brilliantly. It looks like I’d gotten on the “making fun of Gwyneth Paltrow” train about 4 years too late, but I decided to give it Goop’s holiday detox a shot anyway.
The goal of a detox is to cleanse your body of all the junk that sticks around in there that’s not supposed to be. There are a lot of ways to do this, and Paltrow presents this detox as one of the safer and smarter ones. Goop provides an important tip in the reminder that pooping is good for you: “Bowel elimination is paramount for correct detoxification.”
I work in the health food/natural food/gourmet food business, and have since I was, like, 14, so I’m honestly on board with a lot of this stuff despite my own personal laziness and lack of self-control with regards to healthy eating. This “review” of the diet is coming from a completely open-mind; I’m not gonna be hating on kale or anything.
This diet involves a lot of very specific ingredients, but because of space restrictions in my Brooklyn apartment, I had to shop for about two days worth of stuff at a time. The ingredients were pretty simple – no obscure leafy greens or ultra expensive goji extracts (are gojis even hip anymore? I should be up-to-date on this, I’m in the biz, but I’m not sure) – but I still spent way more money than I would have spent if I just did normal grocery shopping.
Goop makes sure to remind you: “Adjust the time to your schedule and the meals to your taste but remember that there can be no dairy, grains with gluten, meat, shellfish….” the list goes on and on. Just imagine it says “enjoyable stuff” and you’ll get the picture.
Time to actually start the diet. When you first wake up, you’re supposed to have a glass of warm lemon water. No coffee. This is already tough. An hour later, a glass of water. Two hours after that, a very specific smoothie.
Now, unlike Goop’s target audience, I have to wake up and go work to pay my rent; the 10am smoothie would be an issue. My usual schedule involves rolling out of bed at around 8:45 and leaving my house at 9:05 to make this weird rush hour subway that is oddly always empty when it leaves my stop at 9:13 to get to work at 9:45ish.
The Goop diet makes that very difficult indeed. Before work I had to make the smoothie to bring with me (using the loud blender, to the chagrin of my roommates) as well as my lunchtime salad; dinner too, because she schedules dinner for 6pm, a mere few minutes after I get home from work on a good day.
I packed the ungodly amount of food to bring with me to work – I usually travel bagless with whatever book I’m reading – and brought it along.
My coworkers made fun of me for bringing a weird smoothie and salad to work. The smoothie had separated during the trip, even though I bought a stupid portable smoothie cup, and wasn’t very good. I’m sure it would’ve been good fresh, but like, who can make a smoothie at work?