Oh, Goop. You are the cashmere sweater for my middle class soul. The frighteningly priced Fendi bag that hangs behind a pane of polished glass and says: “Look, but don’t touch.” Other readers may enjoy the photos of bedraggled celebrities running to Starbucks sans make-up, but as for me, I enjoy the gold-flecked facial cream and acai berry-packed schedule that makes up Gwyneth Paltrow. I have mad respect for that woman. I’m pretty sure she’s 75% coconut water. Her piece on postpartum depression made me choke up. None of this takes away from the fact that the only people who can relate to Goop are Diane von Furstenberg and (maybe) Posh Spice.
One of the her most befuddling pieces (that I saved for later and instantly regretted) was filled with flying tips, which in all fairness would be helpful if I were, say, Kate Middleton. She recommends books and shares her own playlist (lots of Hova or, as Apple and Moses call him, “Uncle Jay”) before recommending some handy earplugs and a night mask. Which reminds me, why not just nap on the flight from NY to LA? Maybe she’s afraid of Inception.
In actuality, Gwyneth seems to spend most of her flight slathered in moisturizer, ingesting copious amounts of Vitamin C and something called “Pure Essence” fizzy packs. By far the oddest item on her extensive list was the inclusion of a tiny blue bottle labeled “Higher Nature’s High Stability Active Silver”. Go ahead, read that twice. “They say active silver keeps germs at bay so I spray this in the air when I sit down,” admits our fearless leader. “It’s worth the few odd looks.” What horrific illnesses is Gwen expecting to contract in first class anyway? Swine flu? Lord knows what this woman would need to survive a night in coach. A hazmat suit maybe. Liquefied precious metals aside, I’d still love to share some kale chips and kombucha with you, GP. Say hi to Blue Ivy for me.
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