Despite having overtly stated earlier this week that TheFoodinista.com is a Gwyneth-free zone, here we are again talking about Gywneth. I don’t understand how otherwise intelligent people lap up her annoyingly precious blog, GOOP. How does it not make you homicidal? I asked my friend Dana. So here to defend Gwynnie, I give you Dana Dickey:
Poor poor Gwyneth. She comes out with a blog and gets nothing but grief for it. But don’t despair Gwynnie, Gwyn Gwyn, Gwynmeister—those people out there with their brickbats (that’s an old-fashioned term for criticism, dear. I know you were busy when you were at Spence, you might have missed it) and carping (not the kind Mario does. Ibid, dear, ibid), seem to have missed the point of your email newsletter GOOP.
See, I understand Gwyneth, there’s not that much for you to do around Hollywood, except hold Robert Downey Jr’s towel in the next cash-minting superhero flick, and who knows what that simulacrum rock star you married gets up to on the road. So you’ve been pushed back on your own resources. Which, as I would think the chattering class would understand, is LIFESTYLE. You’ve got a deep, deep wellspring of superficial lifestyle, lady. So you’re sharing the wealth of it, with us. You told me which books Madonna just read, which I already forgot but in principle I like knowing. You look cute in your little black dress slideshow, counseling me to buy a Balenciaga-esque belt at Urban Outfitters. You share with me your dead father’s words, that he “wanted you to see Paris for the first time with a man that would always love you.” (OK that last is a little creepy.)
Well, just don’t listen to them Gwynnie. They are just jealous. Whereas I am just holding my breath for the reality show.—Dana Dickey