So, Goop here has a new book out — it’s called The Clean Plate, and while I do not look to Gwyneth Paltrow to cure me of what ails me and nor do I plan to go vegan, historically her cookbooks have had good salads, so I’ll probably check it out of the library and see if I want to get it. (Her first two cookbooks, My Father’s Daughter, and It’s All Good, are honestly excellent and I use them all the time. The third one, It’s All Easy — the first one she did without chef Julia Turshen, notably — was actually too easy for me personally, and the Amazon reviews seem to indicate that this book is a similar situation, and also that it’s mostly pictures of Gwyneth. I’ll be the judge of that; thank you, library cookbook section!) But I do not know why you would want to wear this outfit to promote ANYTHING; it is simultaneously too big AND too small. This is what you find yourself wearing when you’re cleaning out your closet and trying things on to see if you want to keep them, but paying no mind to coordinating what your top and bottom are saying to each other. And then someone comes to the door and you put on the boots you’ve just decided to keep and run to answer it, and are forced to pretend that what you’re wearing is just a thing people wear, because you don’t have the energy to explain to your neighbor that ACTUALLY you’re trying to decide if these brown flappy trousers spark joy. Spoiler: They do not.
Related: This is some potentially messy shit w. GOOP. (It’s the first story there.) Yikes, dude — pay people what you agreed to pay them.