Finally We Can Dispense With That Food Nonsense

Hey, Tracy Anderson! Think your baby food diet is the fast track to skinny? Well, inventor David Edwards has taken it a step further. Inhale your meals! Why burden your bodies with pureed food when you can skip swallowing all together? Edwards has introduced "Le Whif" and "Le Whaf," vaporizers that turn actual food into a cloud of vapor. Users inhale the vapor, which Edwards claims will satisfy one's cravings for that pesky edible stuff. Awesome! I'll have the chocolate steam, please, with a side of socialized anorexia and pervasive self-loathing. And put a rush on it!

In Preparation For The Inevitable

We'll be doing some site maintenance at F-Bomb Café today, which might result in light posting. We'll be back this afternoon, so, you know, don't panic or anything. And in case you just can't live without us, here's a column from last year's holiday season. I know, I know; we're recycling. But as I read blogs and mags this morning, I realized that it's once again the beautiful time of year when the media tries to stress you out about holiday weight gain so that a bunch of quack assholes can sell you diets. Nothing says celebrate like socialized bulimia! Yippee! So, with no further ado, let's talk Tracy Anderson, shall we? She's Gwyneth Paltrow's trainer. Enough said, right? Well, Imma say a little more, if I may...

(originally published January 2010)

If you live in this country, you know the media beats the New Year’s horse into the ground. Television and magazines love the easy sell of “The Year’s Best” whatever – moments, innovations, triumphs, celebrity feuds, makeovers. In my ongoing fight to keep print media alive (this is my weak and pathetic rationalization for continuing to read weak and pathetic publications), I bought my weekly Us Weekly this morning, the headline of which is “2010’s Diets That Work.” Yawn. I am not looking for a diet that works, incidentally, nor do I really believe that stars follow the diets associated with or attributed to them in print. But I rarely buy Us for the cover stories. I buy it for…well, don’t you worry about that. I buy it. It bothers me that magazines target people’s well-intentioned New Year’s resolutions by printing a bunch of nonsense about unrealistic and unhealthy approaches to weight loss, but clearly it doesn’t bother me enough to preclude my consumption of said magazines. But don’t worry: my hypocrisy was punished. I just read the most infuriating line of drivel ever to come from a resident of Los Angeles. Consider the weight of that superlative.

Inside this issue of Us is a 24-page assault of celebrity weight loss “secrets” (sshhhhh!), celebrity diets, and celebrity workout tips. One 2-page spread focuses on the approaches used and clients serviced by trainer Tracy Anderson. And the first statement in the article from Ms. Anderson is this one: “I can take any woman and turn her into this tiny ideal of perfection.”

I’m not sure where to begin.

“…tiny ideal of perfection.”

Did you read that? Honestly, I am beyond words with this one. Literally. I need to move on for now to the first part of her statement: “I can take any woman and turn her into…” I can’t even type the second part again. But – “any woman”? Really? Wow. Tracy Anderson has evidently stumbled onto the secret of reversing genetics. Strange that she chooses to use this knowledge for weight loss and not curing diseases, but I digress. Any woman! Did you hear that? No matter what your height, weight, or body type, Ms. Anderson can transform you into the ideal – and the ideal is apparently the same for everyone. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but apparently it is tiny and perfect. Sign me up! I guess if your ideal is not tiny and perfect, you need to find yourself another trainer.

Of course I had to read on and find out how Ms. Anderson accomplishes this amazing feat. Obviously, clients do a lot of working out. And, not surprisingly, the maintenance diet plan includes no pasta or bread or white carbs. But Anderson’s signature diet technique is the super-strict, 14-day regime she prescribes for trainees. Claims Anderson, “You’ll lose 5 pounds in a week and you won’t be tortured.” Hmm. I am pretty sure that losing more than 2 pounds a week is unsafe for most, but, hey, this woman can reverse genetics, so what do I know? What is this 2-week, not torture plan? It is “14 daily servings of foods pureed into the consistency of pudding.” It’s called the “Baby Food Cleanse.” Baby. Food. Cleanse.

I don’t know why Anderson thinks pureeing food will aid weight loss efforts, and I am not going to find out. I don’t care. I care that this woman gets a 2-page spread in a magazine to tell women to eat baby food for 2 weeks. Because feeling bad about your body is not soul-crushing enough. Oh no. Now you will eat baby food for 2 weeks. Perfect! Ideal! I hate Tracy Anderson. I hate her for making claims that will cause people without the resources to hire her to feel as if they have failed when their own efforts do not result in the “tiny ideal of perfection,” because I assure you only Tracy Anderson can completely alter someone’s body structure. I hate her because I don’t think she believes her own claims. I hate her because she is telling women to eat baby food.  Why don’t we just wire our jaws shut? Yippee! It’s a new year! Here’s to broken jaws and meals through straws! It’s 2010!

Tracy Anderson, you are a bad person. Also, you lie. Grrrrrr.

Jillian Michaels's Hurt Locker

It’s body image madness in the media lately – all day, every day. It’s mayhem, people, mayhem. I’m not talking about old-school mixed messages, like those from Us Weekly, who put “Is Tori Anorexic?” on the cover one week and “How Kim Lost 10 Pounds in a Week” the next. I’m talking about a creepy, exploitative relationship between the media and eating disorders. This shiz gets ugly – just ask overeaters, who in recent weeks have been taking a beating in the media vs. food scramble, with Ms. Jillian Michaels leading the ill-conceived assault. You may remember Jillian from “Jillian Michaels Maximum Strength Fat Burner,” the pill that magically melts away fat. Or perhaps you’ve witnessed her work on the humiliation festival “The Biggest Loser.” Her latest attack comes in the form of her own show, “Losing It with Jillian Michaels.”

In fairness, I should admit that I have a "thing" about Jillian Michaels. I have expressed my frustration with her several times in “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?!” as well as in a column or two. So, yes, she starts at a disadvantage with me. Given how much time I spend enraged by her, I can’t in any good conscience watch her show, which is convenient, because I really, really don’t want to. So I hadn’t seen it until tonight. Unfortunately, I read two articles this week about how awful the show is, and I had to see for myself. I watched the entire episode. Bias or no bias, it’s bad.

“Losing It” follows the same formula every week: Jillian moves in with an unhealthy, overweight family for seven days, she works her magic on their emotional and behavioral issues, she forces them to complete extreme boot camp style work-outs, she yells in their faces, and there is a lot of crying. Jillian leaves after one week but returns two months later to “reveal” the family members, who (generally, I presume) have lost a lot more weight. Jillian is revered as a hero, she praises the family’s tenacity, and then there is more crying. Obviously, the process begs questions. How can anyone in one week address the myriad problems these families reveal? Why is she screaming so much? Isn’t it dangerous to start exercising at that intensity? I don’t have time for all of those, so let’s just talk about all the screaming. It’s an embarrassingly obvious shtick. In tonight’s episode, Jillian enters the scene with a discernable swagger and immediately antagonizes the group by saying, “Wow, I didn’t think one family could get me this pissed off in one day.” She was angry, you see, about the unhealthy, high-calorie lunch she watched them eat -- on camera, broadcast from their own kitchen. And it continues like that from there. Jillian berates the father, who has been depressed since losing his job, for “failing” at his workout. She yells insults as the family struggles to keep going. Then she forces the parents to talk about their marital and family problems in front of their 14 year-old twins.  As a result, all four end up sobbing as the children, who fear their parents will die, beg them not to quit, and the exhausted, ashamed parents break down at the horror of hearing their kids beg them to live. I think it’s a great idea for Jillian to strut into a family’s house all Terminator-style and force a huge, traumatic, emotional upheaval. Don’t you? Plus, nothing makes school more fun for a 14 year-old than having your peers watch you bawl over your sweaty parents on TV. Good call, Jillian.

It can be argued that the families are willing participants, so what’s the harm? They agree to be on the show; they know how it’s going to go down. Well, in tonight’s episode, the father was unemployed, both parents were morbidly obese, and the show gave them $50,000 plus Jillian’s services. So, is it exploitation on NBC’s part or opportunism on the family’s part? It sounds to me like a game of “How Much Is Your Pride Worth?” and I don’t care whose fault it is -- it’s gross. To an extent, I blame Jillian Michaels, because she is the self-proclaimed expert who puts herself in charge of the experience. I think she owes the families a little more than hasty pseudo-therapy and verbal abuse. Also, I wonder how the public would respond if Jillian were screaming in the face of an 80-pound anorexic woman. Sounds cruel, right? I guarantee there will never be a show like that.

Of course, Jillian Michaels is not the entire problem. It’s airbrushed models and liquid diets and fast food and “Celebrity Fit Club” and “The Biggest Loser” and my beloved/despised Us Weekly and more. But whichever end of the spectrum or part of the issue one looks at, whether talking about those who starve or those who binge, the problem is really the same: our society encourages a toxic and disordered relationship with food. I don’t know what should be done about it; I have my own issues. But I’m pretty confident that creating a public showcase out of people’s problems isn’t really helping the relationship any. That means you, JMic. Stop yelling.

Buyer, Eater, and Drinker Beware

When I was in high school, I drank almost two liters of Diet Coke every day. Don’t ask. If you really want to know why, go to the archives and read “Counting Crackers.” If, like me, you prefer to know as few details as possible about other people’s lives, suffice it to say that I drank a lot of Diet Coke. In college, I found out that NutraSweet was causing 90% of the crippling migraines I had suffered for nearly a decade and that the citric and phosphoric acids in my precious Diet Coke were literally burning a hole through the lining of my stomach. Needless to say, or maybe not, I stopped drinking Diet Coke. Migraines and ulcers can be kind of a drag. I mean, unless you’re into that sort of thing, in which case, cheers!

It never occurred to me to be outraged at Coca-Cola for selling me a product that was slowly killing me – or at least leading me to a life of chronic pain. After all, it was I who chose to drink two liters a day of something created in a lab. Just because it is calorie-free does not mean it is a health food. We all know that, right? I was a victim merely of my own bad choice, right? Maybe. Maybe not.
I haven’t paid much attention to Diet Coke in the years since our breakup (like with so many other scorned lovers, I am reminded of our love affair now and then by burning sensation in my gut), but a new commercial managed to grab may attention. During the Olympic broadcast today, I heard a Diet Coke commercial mention something about Diet Coke’s new “Heart Truth” campaign. I went to the website, where I read this:

A healthy, happy heart is essential to staying extraordinary and making the most of every moment. Diet Coke and The Heart Truth are partnering to raise awareness for women’s heart health programs. Join us to show your support and be inspired daily.

Okay, to be fair, nowhere does Diet Coke claim that it is good for your heart. And, in fact, I am not sure that Diet Coke itself is in any way bad for your heart. But just one week before these “Heart Truth” ads began, The New York Times reported that researchers have linked diet soda to metabolic syndrome – the greatest risk factor for heart disease. While the research determines only a correlation, not a cause/effect relationship, they found a relationship nonetheless. Somehow I doubt the timing of the campaign is unrelated to this report. And even if Diet Coke is not directly bad for one’s heart, I know what large doses of it did to me, and I know that it is proven to be linked to kidney stones and kidney disease. So I guess the question is, at the very least, which of your organs do you like best? Diet Coke wants you to embrace your heart but tell your kidneys to get lost. Which is cool. I mean, we have two. And there’s always dialysis.

Here’s the thing: we know that Diet Coke is trying to market itself as healthful. So, can one blame Coca-Cola when she realizes it in fact is not? I don’t know. I read last week that two women are suing Jillian Michaels because Michaels’ product “Jillian Michaels Maximum Strength Calorie Control” didn’t help them lose weight. The product is a supplement containing primarily caffeine, guarana, glutamine, and ginger. Users are told to take two pills before meals. That’s it! Two pills and you’ll lose weight! Come on, now. Part of me is angry that our courts are taken up with litigious whiners who have ridiculous expectations and sue people for capitalizing on their laziness. But part of me thinks people like Jillian Michaels – experts who knowingly endorse worthless products – are dangerous and need to be penalized for their malevolent irresponsibility.

I’m not going to sue Diet Coke because every once in a while I have to take a few weeks worth of Prevacid. But I don’t buy any Coca-Cola products. And let me tell you, I was pretty addicted to Vitamin Water until I found out that Coke owns it. Likewise, I’m not going to watch “The Biggest Loser” or buy any of Jillian Michaels’ exercise DVDs, either. Because while there needs to be legislation in place that protects consumers from false claims, especially where our health is concerned, we as consumers need to be educated and selective about what we buy and whom we support. Don’t let Diet Coke tell you how to be healthy, and don’t let someone who makes a living humiliating obese people on national television lie to you about weight loss. Think about the logic of taking health advice from anyone other than your health practitioner. Your kidneys will thank you.

Gwyneth Paltrow Is Full of Goop

You probably already know that Gwyneth Paltrow has a website, “GOOP.” You may also know that she has consequently been the object of quite a few bloggers’ attacks. I felt kind of bad for her at first; I mean, as a celebrity she’s an especially easy target. As a celebrity from a privileged upbringing who now disses the US whenever she gets the chance and speaks with an affected quasi-British accent rivaled only by Madonna’s, she’s an even easier target. So while I am no big Gwynnie fan, it seemed she was taking a bit too much heat for what I thought were simply recipes and exercise tips. And then I went to the site.

I didn’t go to GOOP on purpose. (Ha. “Go to GOOP.” This could be the new “jump the shark.”) I was planning a dinner party and, since I’m not much of a baker, I googled “blondies.” I just wanted to make blondies, I swear. Google directed me to, among other places, GOOP, where I read this:

The cookie. Small, delectable, perfect. Not out-of-a-package cookies with unpronounceable ingredients. Warm, homemade cookies. Butter. Brown sugar. Chocolate. I’ve rounded up some of my all-time faves, the ones that you find on my kitchen table most often. Bliss.

A few paragraphs later, Gwyneth offers a blondies recipe. Here’s what struck me. Or rather, here’s what made me really angry: The first line of the recipe entry is “This recipe has to be the least healthy ever to be included in GOOP.” Oh, man, come on. Is she really going to be that girl? You know, the one who has to point out the calories and fat in every freaking tasty BLISSful thing out there? I’m not a big dessert eater; I’m an organic-foods enthusiast, a vegetarian, and a somewhat compulsive exerciser. But if I want to have a blondie, I want to do so in peace. GPalt is that girl, though. At the end of her intro, she tells us the calorie count in a blondie – and she calculates one blondie as…wait for it…1/60 of the total recipe. When was the last time anyone divided a pan of brownies or blondies or whatever into sixtieths?! It’s dessert, not an amuse-bouche! (Ha! Take that, Gwynnie. Amuse-bouche! Who’s the pretentious foodie now?) Her idiocy completely distracted me from my original plan and I spent the next hour reading through some of her…goop. It’s pretty easy to hate. Gwyneth herself has already responded to this hate, telling Elle UK, “F&*k the haters…How could people hate me, my intentions, or what I’m trying to do? I’m a good person and I’m trying to put good things out into the world.” Um, okay. You might be a good person. There is really no way for me to fact check you there, Gwyn. But “putting good things out into the world?” Let’s examine this by looking at a few of the gems I stumbled across:

The Title: "GOOP: Nourish the Inner Aspect." The what? Do what to the what? How is attaching guilt to a blondie and promoting starvation diets (see the next item) nourishing anything? Nourish. The. Inner. Aspect. Riiiiiiiiight.

The Diets: One week’s newsletter is called “Detox.” In it, Gwyneth begins with, “It’s that time of year, folks. I need to lose a few pounds of holiday excess. Anyone else?” Ugh. It doesn’t nourish my inner aspect to search the internet for “good things” and come across these words. I hate the implication that enjoying the holidays is excessive, and I hate the cloying way she asks this question, like we’re all in this together. She’s just one of us, guys! One of us needs-to-lose-weight-excessive gals! She goes on to offer a 7 Day “cleanse” menu that she designed herself (they teach Nutritional Sciences at theater school, right?). Each day’s menu begins with a “glass of room temperature water.” And then, an hour later, you get a cup of herbal tea. Breakfast of nourished champions, I am sure. The rest of the menu includes smoothies and raw vegetables and pureed soups and the occasional steamed piece of salmon or chicken. Isn’t she the mother of two kids? I couldn’t take care of a skateboard on this diet, never mind a child. Also, the practice of excessive eating followed by near-fasting is, last time I checked, referred to as “bingeing and purging.” She calls it “cleanse;” I call it socialized bulimia. Most importantly, regardless of the caloric and nutritional values in her menus, I object to the assumption that she is in any way qualified to create a menu that others should follow. And I certainly reject the breakfast-free detox diet as an example of good things in the world.

Her language. In one post she refers to her friends “Katie Lee Joel and her husband William.” William Joel. I read an interview with Katie Lee Joel last week in People, and Katie Lee referred to her now ex-husband as “Bill.” So, what’s up with that, Gwyneth? Are you trying to impress us with your knowledge of nicknames and their formal sources? When I read this, I immediately thought of that “Seinfeld” episode in which George is dating the crazy “papier-mache” hat maker who wears chopsticks in her hair and refers to Jerry as “Jerome.” This sort of thing  -- Jerome, William -- is a device writers use for characterization when the trait they are trying to evince is pretentiousness. Just saying, Gwyneth. Is this a voice to which we are supposed to relate? I, for one, don’t want to.

You get the idea. I realize that I don’t have to read the site. If it bothers me so much, don’t read it, right? Good point. And I won’t. I also realize that by writing about it, I am likely inspiring people to go to the site and hence increase its traffic. Whatever. I am not trying to take the woman down. (Cut to Gwynnie breathing a huge sigh of relief.) I’m just wondering, when did we start supporting the idea that an actress is an expert on topics like relationships (yes, she goes there) and nutrition? And when did an educated woman start believing that she was putting “good things out into the world” by telling me to cut my blondies into sixtieths and drink water for breakfast? She might be an easy target, but she has earned that.  If one is going to use her celebrity to appoint herself an expert on things that really affect others’ well-being, then I hope we call her out when she misleads. I hope her irresponsibility is met with responsibility on the readers’ side. And I hope that the people who read her drivel, especially the women, reject her advice for what it is: goop.