Well, it’s Black Friday and, as is my tradition, I’m not out shopping.
Okay, I may head over to Macy’s a bit later in the day to buy a couple of pans that will work on my new induction cook top. Or I could just stay home and whip up an omelet for myself on the one and only pan from my past life that has magnetized bottom and, thus, can be used with the new cooker. (I do have a gorgeous sea-blue Dutch over that will work, but I don’t consider that part of the old me’s kitchen, given that I haven’t yet used it – other than as the springboard for determining the paint color for the kitchen walls.)
In any case, my Black Friday shopping will be light.
Mostly, I’ll be spending the day unpacking the remaining boxes, organizing a few of the drawers I just pitched things to – every drawer a junk drawer! – and waiting for UPS to deliver the living room registers that better @#*@()#*! fit this time. (Needless to say, the less expensive cool-looking brass registers didn’t fit. I do think that ones that cost more than twice as much will. Knock on wood, quartzite, quartz, marble – any of the new surfaces in my sleek new digs.)
But I will be doing some window shopping with Gwyneth Paltrow. Or rather on Gwyneth’s virtual, share-with-us home, thumbing (virtually) through her Goop Gift Guides, which aggregate quirky gifts from all over.
Where to begin?
Many years ago, Julie Andrews, channeling Rodgers and Hammerstein, told us to “start at the very beginning.” So, although I’m not a Centered Soul – maybe I am but just didn’t know what it means – I started with the Centered Soul guide.
Centered Souls, as it turns out, sit around in camis and teddies all day, burning incense, reading Rainer Marie Rilke, and wondering what goes on in the soul of an octopus. So my intuition about not being a centered soul was correctomundo. And that was reinforced when I read the Electric Love dreamcatcher as Electri Clove. (Must be smokin’ too many of them e-cigarettes.)
I guess I’m not a Collector, either. The only thing that caught my eye was this skull with the flowers painted on it. N
ot that I want one, mind you. I really don’t need any memento mori, thanks a bunch. Anyway, porcelain skulls are a specialty of a company called Nymphenburg. Gwyneth just subs them. (Call for pricing.)
Goop has collected stuff for kids, too. No memento mori here. But if you’re willing to shell out $459 for a kiddie play kitchen, you can get one with a look-a-like SubZero fridge and Viking range. Never too young to enjoy the finest things in life. (Hypocrisy alert, I suppose: I will confess that, based on my address and condo re-sale advice, I have a SubZero. My very own signifier…And if you have a problem with my SubZero, I guess you can go fly a kite. The $64 kite that Gwyneth likes. Didn’t kites used to cost 15 cents?)
There’s an entire section devoted to personalizable goop. My personal favorite: a personalized jar of sriracha. Only $9! See, you don’t have to spend a lot of money to enjoy the same things that Gwyneth does!
Maximalists, who appear to be for women only, are in for a lot of pricey handbags – if you consider $2.5K pricey – and a $530 pajama top. Matching tap-pants for $320, but I’d rather direct that money to the $245 headband and keep the change. (Or perhaps order a couple of personalized sriracha bottles.)
On Dasher, on Dancer, On Precious, On Gooper…
For the Entertainer in your life, I liked the $190 linen bento bag. And “Running a Food Truck for Dummies.” (Oh, that Gwyneth.)
Doers are urged to chill out a bit. Of course, one of the chill-out gifts is a corset unitard (indeed) that’s designed for working out, but can also be worn while just hanging out on the couch, couch-potato-ing on Goop.
For Wanderers, a.k.a., travelers, who can’t live without their tunes, there’s a portable wireless speaker ($449). Just don’t sit next to me on the plane with one.
Nothing to report on the Secret Santa Goop Guide, but that’s probably because I was dying to get at the Ridiculous and Awesome gift list. Given how ridiculous, yet awesome, most of the stuff in all of the gift guides are, I figured this would really be something.
It mostly lived up to its promise. Hermes $46K mah-jong set, anyone? Not to mention the $125K gold-plated dumbbells. If you don’t have that kind of dough for gifting, most everyone can afford the $55 yoni steamer. (It does seem kind of personal. Maybe something you’d buy for yourself, rather than hint around for. Personally, I wasn’t aware that yonis need steaming, but what do I know? Gwyneth is clearly more on-trend than I am, and maybe if you do a lot of lounging around in the corset unitard, a yoni steam might be just the thing.)
While we’re below the belt, there’s also a $956 fancy-arse toilet paper kit. You’ll never squeeze Charmin again!
Oh, Gwyneth, the goop-a-thon window shopping did not disappoint. Like you, it was ridiculously awesome.
How fun it must be to curate this nonsense and put it all in one place for us.
Meanwhile, I’d love to see your home. Feel free to invite me over any old time. Maybe we can do an apartment swap?
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