What It Might Have Been Like To Attend The Goop “In Good Health” Summit

Since I did not get a press pass.

9 a.m.: I arrive at the enchanted lagoon/ancient cave/Van Nuys Marriott conference room where the summit is taking place, and am immediately misted with what I assume is hot radiator fluid, but soon discover is actually coconut-infused alkaline water from the fjords of Norway.

10 a.m.: I am escorted to the “aura photography” station, where I quickly learn that my aura is not millennial pink, as I had hoped — rather, it is the precise jaundice-yellow of an old tooth. I opt not to purchase the wallet- sized aura photos.

10:30 a.m.: I make a sarcastic comment to the crystal healer, who appraises me coolly and asks, “You’re a child of divorce, aren’t you?” in a tone of voice that tells me she already knows the answer. Abashed, I buy a four-hundred-dollar amethyst and promptly swallow it.

11:45 a.m.: The other women form a circle around me and I am forced to sit in the middle and list every processed snack item I have eaten this year, as everyone points at me and chants “Her fault, her fault!” in unison, Handmaid’s Tale-style, until I begin to weep.

12:30 p.m.: Sound bath time! I am held down in a lukewarm tub while bells chime tantalizingly, just out of my reach.

1 p.m.: Lunch is served; a child’s palmful of activated cashews. This is enough food for me. I am fine, and not hungry.

2:00 p.m.: In order to cleanse ourselves of toxins and reap the benefits of activated charcoal, we all undergo gastric lavage (stomach pumping.) To make the experience as realistic as possible, the procedure is administered by an overwhelmed E.R. intern, and we are all dressed in sexy Halloween costumes.

3 p.m.: Naptime. I am gently laid to rest on a bed of pine needles inside a denim yurt.

4 p.m.: I am awakened by the soft rustle of gauzy layers floating around my head. Moon Juice founder and wellness guru Amanda Chantal Bacon has arrived in my yurt. She holds my chin in her hand, staring deep into my eyes for a full minute, and tells me, “You’re doing the right thing with your bangs.” I believe her. She kisses me softly on each eyelid and rustles away into the twilight.

4:30 p.m.: I am served an acai-placenta smoothie. It tastes okay.

5:00 p.m.: As a final empathy exercise, we all get to try on Gwyneth Paltrow’s skin. Gwyneth’s disembodied soul hovers nearby, watching approvingly.

6:00 p.m.: A primal scream signifies the end of the summit, and all of a sudden, in a burst of searing pain, I am expelled from the warm, nurturing wellness enclave of the “In Goop Health” summit and back into the cruel, icy piss-world from whence I came. It’s like being born, only much, much worse.

Emma Specter is a Los Angeles-based writer who regularly covers Hollywood, wellness, and other SoCal-specific nonsense for LAist. When she learned that Goop would be holding its first wellness summit, “In Goop Health,” at an undisclosed location in Los Angeles on June 10th, she immediately emailed the Goop press office, requesting a press pass to cover the event. Sadly, her request was denied, because the world is increasingly biased against real news, and also possibly because her prior coverage of the summit was a list of other things you could buy for the same price as a $1,500 “Clear Quartz” ticket, including seven actual clear quartz spheres, a round-trip flight to Thailand, or a three-year supply of microwavable Jimmy Dean Sausage, Egg & Cheese biscuits.