Gwyneth Paltrow and Me: Peas in a Pod.

My friend Britt likes to sometimes send me the GOOP newsletter to demonstrate to me why GOOP author Gwyneth Paltrow is an enemy of the human race. I’ve never really seen the problem. I mean, sure, Shakespeare in Love sucks, but there’s nothing wrong in eating macrobiotic is there? It leaves more real food for the rest of us, after all. 

This week, though, I saw the light.

If you missed it, I urge you to check out the recent GOOP newsletter where Gwyneth (multi-millionaire and member of Hollywood royalty) empathises with us working Mums. Because, actually, Gwyneth is just a working Mum too, you know?

To illustrate this, Gwyneth tells us about one of her super-busy days. It consists of:

Get up

Take kids to school


Singing lessons

Try on clothes

Answer some emails

Play with kids

Get dressed and go out for super fun dinner with girlfriends


It's uncanny, of course, because this could totally be a page torn out of my diary. Yours too, I bet.

For example, here's the highlights of my working day. Betcha can't even tell the difference between my life and Gwyneth's:

Get up

Take Flea to school

Practice deep breathing while logging into online bank account

Pay credit card bill, council tax, parking ticket. Put off paying NI until next week

Faff around on Twitter

Phone interviews with fascinating people for article on cloud infrastructure models

Faff around on Twitter

Put lunch in oven, quickly phone solicitor, accountant, GP and business partner.

Put burned lunch in bin. Make toast.

While eating toast, answer emails.

Spend 20 minutes hunting for pastry brush to remote toast crumbs from crunchy keyboard

Faff around on Twitter.

Write up sponsorship and advertising contracts for new clients. Catch up on invoicing. Take out paperwork to complete tax return.

Realise I’m late for the school run. Bugger. Write post it note saying “TAX RETURN!!” in fruitless attempt to convince myself this means I’ll actually do the sodding thing tonight.

Play 45 games of Pig Goes Pop.

Put Flea to bed.

Answer phone. It's the ex-husband wanting to make arrangements for the weekend.

Answer phone to friend who says, “Why do you never answer your phone?”

Try to catch up with 1,200 unread emails

Realise have forgotten to call British Gas about repairing the boiler. They’re closed.

Take cold shower.

Fall into bed.


I never thought it was possible, but I think I might hate Gwyneth even more than…. Louise Redknapp.

Louise ham

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