Gwyneth Paltrow Quotes

Beauty, to me, is about being comfortable in your own skin. That, or a kick-ass red lipstick.

The best way to mend a broken heart is time and girlfriends.

Invest in what's real. Clean as you go. Drink while you cook. Make it fun. It doesn't have to be complicated. It will be what it will be.

As far as I know, Gwyneth Paltrow has not compared herself to me today, so I've decided that I will not compare myself to her.

...It often seemed to her that she thought too much about herself, you could have made her blush any day of the year, by telling her she was selfish. She was always planning out her own development, desiring her own perfection, observing her own progress. Her nature had for her own imagination a certain garden-like quality, a suggestion of perfume and murmuring bows, of shady bowers and of lengthening vistas, which made her feel that introspection was, after all, an exercise in the open air, and that a visit to the recesses of one’s mind was harmless when one returned from it with a lapful of roses.

I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror as we glided p. I looked as eroded as the groaning lift. What had happened to the fresh-faced belle from Boston, Mass.? The woman who stared back at me was at the dreaded age between forty-five and fifty, that no-man's land of sag, oncoming wrinkle, and stealthy approach of menopause. "I hate this elevator, too," I said grimly. Zoe grinned and pinched my cheek. "Mom, even Gwyneth Paltrow would look like hell in that mirror." I had to smile. That was such a Zoe-like remark.

Gwyneth Paltrow. Eggs and meat. Darkness.

It’s like the kitchen in that movie where evil rich Michael Douglas tries to have Gwyneth Paltrow murdered because she falls for a poor artist. Everything is stainless steel or marble and the island in the center is the size of a small car. I can’t remember if the poor guy gets Gwyneth in the end of the movie and it feels like it matters a lot right now.

When I pass a flowering zucchini plant in a garden, my heart skips a beat.

It’s amazing how an otherwise intelligent person can become a credulous fool as soon as you mention the words “organic,” “authentic,” and “Gwyneth Paltrow.

People almost never look as bad on the outside as I do on the inside, but that’s sort of nice because it reminds me that even when I’m having a bad hair day my ponytail is still more aesthetically pleasing than Gwyneth Paltrow’s bile duct.

Celebrities like Gwyneth Paltrow and an ever-growing number of spas market practices like vaginal steaming, which are based on the idea that there are “toxins” or “impurities” to remove.

I could be wrong, but she seemed to be one of those anti-gluten, pro-yoga, organic wine bar, Generation-Y echo boomers. A Gwyneth Paltrow type who would name her first daughter Persimmon or whatever.

It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It matters what you think of yourself and what your children think. So if anyone is going to ask my advice, I'd say, do what is right for you and don't give a shit what anyone else thinks

Beauty, to me, is about being comfortable in your own skin. That, or a kick-ass red lipstick

That’s a strategic function of nothing, and in that sense, you could file what I’ve said so far under the heading of self-care. But if you do, make it “self-care” in the activist sense that Audre Lorde meant it in the 1980s, when she said that “[c]aring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” This is an important distinction to make these days, when the phrase “self-care” is appropriated for commercial ends and risks becoming a cliché. As Gabrielle Moss, author of Glop: Nontoxic, Expensive Ideas That Will Make You Look Ridiculous and Feel Pretentious (a book parodying goop, Gwyneth Paltrow’s high-priced wellness empire), put it: self-care “is poised to be wrenched away from activists and turned into an excuse to buy an expensive bath oil.

This extends beyond MLMs, of course, to the white women wellness space. Take a gander at Goop, Gwyneth Paltrow's wellness brand. Celebrities have a knack for convincing women that they can afford the designer lifestyle and all the products that go with it, and it will make their lives better. Goop has made headlines for selling vagina crystals and co-opting controversial doctors (ones who argue that HIV doesn't cause AIDS, for example). Many find that the health benefits of their products don't quite match up to what they sell, and why would they? Goop's goal isn't health - the goal is to make Gwyneth Paltrow richer.

I don’t know about your parental units, but mine really have it together when it comes to laundry. They have it together in many other ways, such as having a fully stocked fridge at all times—and not just with the basics, like bread, milk, and eggs. I’m talking about luxury spices that you might only see in a wicker basket on Chopped, vegan food items that Oprah has endorsed, and enough produce to make a fresh summer salad whenever the mood strikes. Just like when Honey Boo Boo said everyone is a little bit gay, it seems like every parent is a little bit Gwyneth Paltrow: the Goop Years after the kids leave the house. And Ma and Pa Robinson are no exception.

Explain your type again.” Ash says. “Let’s define the problem.” I squint my eyes, because everyone knows that makes you smarter. I didn’t know I had a type, but when I look back at my few exes over the years… yeah, there seems to be a pattern. “Frail-looking, vegetarian or gluten free, intellectual, ironic, good hygiene.” Sadie and Ash just look at me for a beat. “Thank God we’re helping you.” Ash says. “I mean, what the fuck? Why didn’t we notice this before?” Sadie is nodding. Ash says, “so we just need to find someone who’s huge, a carnivore, doesn’t talk, smells manly and… what’s the opposite of ironic?” “I have no idea. Let’s simplify it. We’re looking for a man, instead of what you’ve been attracted to.” “What have I been attracted to?” “Gwyneth Paltrow I’m pretty sure. And every time I see her on TV, I just want to kick her.

You know what I’ve been thinking about?” Rachel asked, extending her hand to get snuffled by Boo Boo again, a true glutton for attention, as most of the goats were. “All the people I could have married. Not that anyone else asked me! But all the strangers I could have chosen to have a baby with. Like, Sliding Doors, but with my life, instead of Gwyneth Paltrow. Is that the most depressing thing you’ve ever heard?” Porter shook her head. “Yes. I mean, no, it’s not the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard. It’s my entire life. It’s also a fun game to play for other people. The good news is that I think you have to stop when you have children, because you know that whoever you give birth to wouldn’t be there if you’d made different choices. And when Elvis is born, or Felix, or Tallulah, or whoever, you and I are going to look at them and say, fuck, I’m glad you’re here, and not someone else, and whatever choices you made led you to that person, your little person, and so the past becomes perfect. The future can always change, but not the past.

No one, I repeat, NO ONE, wants to go on a date with someone with air brushed photos, or just that ONE pic someone took of you at the beach when you miraculously looked like Gwyneth Paltrow or Hugh Jackman back in 2006.

The fact that individuals who have won the beauty-gene lottery are setting universal beauty standards is a bit like using NBA forwards to inspire people to endeavor to be tall.

Don’t simply listen to the Gwyneth Paltrows of the world.

It seems that we are caught in a big, self-perpetuating celebrity-fueled cycle that goes something like this: declining social mobility and diminishing life options lead to increasing dreams of celebrity fame and fortune. This, in turn, enhances the power and allure of celebrity, which cause a focus (perhaps with an ever-increasing narcissistic resolve) on extrinsic aspirations that leads to less happiness and distracts us (and society more generally) from actions that may enhance social mobility, such as education and advocacy for social change.

Throughout this book, many studies will be described. Such reading can be daunting or, worse, boring. But if you're going to be convinced that certain well-established, accepted practices might be wrong, the data must do the convincing. Otherwise, I'd just be asking you to trust me. And while medical gurus such as Mehmet Oz and Depak Chopra or celebrities such as Jenny McCarthy and Gwyneth Paltrow can probably get away with that, I can't. In the end, you shouldn't trust me; you should trust high-quality, reproducible scientific studies that are performed in well-respected academic centers and published in prestigious medical journals.

As Gabrielle Moss, author of Glop: Nontoxic, Expensive Ideas That Will Make You Look Ridiculous and Feel Pretentious (a book parodying goop, Gwyneth Paltrow’s high-priced wellness empire), put it: self-care “is poised to be wrenched away from activists and turned into an excuse to buy an expensive bath oil.

If Gwyneth Paltrow told her to lick the bottom of a dirty flip-flop, she’d lick the bottom of ten.

Let’s start with the central idea. Do our bodies need to be detoxified and will cleansing do the trick? No and no.

From kindergarten through senior year of high school, Evan attended Crossroads, an elite, coed private school in Santa Monica known for its progressive attitudes. Tuition at Crossroads runs north of $ 22,000 a year, and seemingly rises annually. Students address teachers by their first names, and classrooms are named after important historical figures, like Albert Einstein and George Mead, rather than numbered. The school devotes as significant a chunk of time to math and history as to Human Development, a curriculum meant to teach students maturity, tolerance, and confidence. Crossroads emphasizes creativity, personal communication, well-being, mental health, and the liberal arts. The school focuses on the arts much more than athletics; some of the school’s varsity games have fewer than a dozen spectators. 2 In 2005, when Evan was a high school freshman, Vanity Fair ran an exhaustive feature about the school titled “School for Cool.” 3 The school, named for Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken,” unsurprisingly attracts a large contingent of Hollywood types, counting among its alumni Emily and Zooey Deschanel, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jack Black, Kate Hudson, Jonah Hill, Michael Bay, Maya Rudolph, and Spencer Pratt. And that’s just the alumni—the parents of students fill out another page or two of who’s who A-listers. Actor Denzel Washington once served as the assistant eighth grade basketball coach, screenwriter Robert Towne spoke in a film class, and cellist Yo-Yo Ma talked shop with the school’s chamber orchestra.

We got, instead of the structural supports and safety nets that would actually make women feel better on a systematic basis, a bottomless cornucopia of privatized nonsolutions: face serums, infrared saunas, wellness gurus like Gwyneth Paltrow, who famously suggested putting stone eggs in one’s vagina, or Amanda Chantal Bacon, whose company Moon Juice sells 1.5-ounce jars of “Brain Dust” for $38.

rarely do the advocates of cleanses explain what is meant by toxins. It is one of those nebulous pseudoscientific terms rolled out by people deliberately avoiding the specificity required for a science-based analysis. It’s the modern-day equivalent of “evil spirits,” vague enough to mean just about anything while retaining the ring of scientific legitimacy.

The fact that individuals who have won the beauty-gene lottery are setting universal beauty standards is a bit like using NBA power forwards to inspire people to endeavor to be tall.

From Alexander the Great to Lord Byron, we have always been fascinated with the famous. But never has celebrity culture played such a dominant role in so many aspects of our lives. It has a measurable influence on individual health-care decisions, the things we do to stay healthy, how we view ourselves physically, the material goods we want to possess, and our future career aspirations