Sometimes I just feel a little bit too
confident, a bit too content with all of my admittedly white-bread, middle
American life choices. That’s when I go to Goop.
Goop.com is Gwenyth Paltrow’s answer to the
question nobody was asking, “How can I be more of a stick goddess whose
every decision is pure and healthy and filled with cosmic wonder?"
I last visited the site when writing a (quasi)
review of Gwyn’s cookbook, which I’ll call I’m Better At Eating Than You.
(Disclosure: I didn’t read the book, but it’s true: she is definitely much,
much better at eating than me).
A brief trip to Goop offers many wonders. The
main page offers a review of “clean” lip balms, which puzzles me, as I would
not have thought a woman of Paltrow’s stature would have trouble finding a lip
balm that hasn’t already been sampled. I have this trouble myself when trying
to shop the discount bin at Ulta.
But I didn’t stop to investigate further, as my eye
was drawn by the promise of learning how to make “Moon Juice.” The article
begins with these enticing words:
“Moon Juice is magic. Like, real magic.”
Real
magic? Like in Harry Potter? Count me IN! But as I continue reading I’m
disappointed to learn that the “magic” apparently comes only from consuming
exotic ingredients that no one’s ever heard of, like schisandra berry
and mucuna (which could not have a less appetizing name).
The writer of this post then goes on
to praise the magic juice maker (whose last name, ironically, is Bacon) saying
that not only can she invent drinks with weird berries, “she is also other-worldly: She literally glows from within, making any
encounter with her, an ‘I’ll have what she’s having’ moment.”
I now begin to understand the “real
magic” mix-up from before, since the author does not know what the
word literally means. I have been misled by bad grammar. Apparently even
consuming only the juice of rare and incredibly expensive fruits does not
ensure peak brain function. It seems even Moon Juice has its limits.
