Women of America! Reject ‘magical’ cures peddled by the likes of Kourtney and Gwyneth: RINA RAPHAEL

Rina Raphael is the author of the new book The Gospel of Wellness: Gyms, Gurus, Goop and the False Promise of Self-Care.

American women are led down a kale-covered path. We are overloaded, stressed and anxious. Too much feels chaotic.

So we look for rescue and are offered solutions — for a price.

“Your skin deserves minerals, not chemicals,” Kourtney Kardashian tweeted on Aug. 29.

The reality TV star promoted her wellness brand, Poosh.

In particular, she sold a $95 “carbon-purifying” mineral facial mist, described as a detoxifying blend of “pulverized crystals.”

Of course you can’t “detox” anything, let alone with an overpriced bottle of rock sand. And minerals are made of chemicals, just like everything else.

Not to mention that something contains minerals doesn’t mean it’s better or even safe.

You know what else is in minerals? Arsenic.

The modern American wellness industry has become a bloated market bursting with pseudoscience that sometimes feels more like a random product generator.

“Wellness” has become an ambiguous marketing term applied to everything from yoga to CBD butt balm (for “younger-looking, relaxed glutes”).

And who is often at the helm?

Celebrities, influencers and entrepreneurs without any scientific or medical qualification. Poosh, Goop and the Dr. Oz’s of the world occupy the more predatory side of the wellness movement.

Numerous popular wellness practices and products promoted by these big names are backed by little or no scientific evidence.

Take, for example, the trendy intravenous vitamin therapy promoted by Hailey Bieber and yet another member of the Kardashian clan, Kendall Jenner.

Jenner and Bieber sat on couches on a recent episode of The Kardashians, gushing about their “health journey” as bags of fluid were fed directly into their veins.

But according to medical experts, there is no evidence that IV drops benefit people who fit differently.

‘Healthy people don’t need an IV. At best, they’re an expensive way to fill your bladder—then flush hundreds [dollars] down the toilet,” said England’s national medical director, Stephen Powis.

Often the effects of the ingredients in these magical solutions are greatly exaggerated.

“Activated charcoal,” touted for its ability to “detoxify” the body, has been added to everything from toothpaste to vegan croissants.

And while “activated charcoal” is an effective agent in the emergency treatment of certain ingested poisons, it has little to no effect in small amounts. That is, if we even accept this seeming need to remove supposedly ubiquitous “toxins.”

Health claims about consuming “activated charcoal” in foods and beverages have surpassed any kind of research as to its actual benefit, says dietitian Leah McGrath, RD, LDN, of English markets.

In some cases, McGrath even says “it can be harmful and limit the effectiveness of vitamins, minerals and prescription drugs.”

Kombucha, a fermented tea drink, is sold in almost all health food stores and is known for its healing properties. But kombucha promoters lack scientific evidence for their aggressive claims.

It’s fine to enjoy kombucha, but don’t expect it to magically “cure” your gut, notes McGrath. “And if there are probiotics, they can actually make some people with IBS worse.”

Drawing on American optimism (sometimes more like magical thinking), this $4.4 trillion wellness industry promises women the one thing they desperately crave: control.

America loves a quick fix. Especially one that we can buy in millennial pink bottles. It’s much more enticing than it needs to be, like real behavior change or fixing what’s ailing us.

In this sense, self-care can serve as a superficial plaster: spa goodies and meditation programs don’t address the root causes of why we feel so unwell.

Women are dissatisfied with an often inadequate, inaccessible and frustrating American health care system. Women’s chronic health problems are underfunded and underresearched. And the stakes are high, as most Americans live without a safety net.

But instead of collaborating and demanding systemic solutions—or even seeking critical common support—we retreat to the self: self-soothing, self-optimization, and self-indulgence. We grab our ‘healing’ crystals, ride our Platoons and take our bubble baths.

Me, myself and my credit card are the answer. And then we wonder why America is in the midst of a loneliness epidemic.

The market has grown so ridiculous, elitist, and pseudoscientific that consumers are getting wiser.

Many women have a bathroom cabinet filled to the brim with shine inctures, creams and supplements. And after one too many hopeful purchases, they have become more demanding shoppers.

Fool me once, shame on you Gwyneth. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Increasingly, people are not so easily fooled by the exaggerated claims of “gut-healthy tonics” or “stress-reducing” pills. Fad ingredients like “activated charcoal” and CBD have taken a beating. Peloton owners are rushing to unload their bulky coat hangers into the resale market (with many opting for more social gyms). Science-based influencers like Food Science Babe gather millions of social media fans.

Last fall, Goop organized a cruise trip. No one showed up.

Women also recognize the inherent misogyny.

Why aren’t men the target of fear-based marketing around “dangerous” ingredients in everything from their pantry to their body wash? Why don’t they do a ‘detox’?

In part, it’s because wellness brands, marketers, and influencers are targeting women who borrow manipulative techniques from the beauty, fashion, or diet industries.

Many marketers who once worked for clothing brands are now pitching supplements.

Women are tired of being told to eat ‘clean’, arm themselves with ‘non-toxic’ shopping guides and meditate their misery away.

Health has become something you consume and fetishize, instead of folding it naturally into your life

Youth market research firm YPulse reports that more than half of young consumers find wellness culture ‘toxic’ and ‘harmful’.

As they emerge from the pandemic, Americans are re-examining their wellness rituals, putting more weight on scientific evidence and recognizing what they can and cannot live without.

We have come to realize that the wellness industry is not doing well.

We want real solutions, not fairy dust made of glittering crystals.