Gwyneth Loves Him? You Must Be Joshing!

21 long days on Dr. Joshi's celebrity detox

by PAMELA POST

One lazy weekend last spring, I found myself at one of those giant Vancouver book emporiums. As I meandered dreamily down the boulevard-sized aisles, the cover of a little white book caught my attention.

Popping out of the white backdrop was a graphic of bright green asparagus tied up in a bundle with a little note card attached. The title: Dr. Joshi’s Holistic Detox: 21 Days to a Healthier, Slimmer You—For Life.

I wasn’t in the market for a dietary cleanse book, and I don’t believe in diets. But I picked up the book and peered at the print on the asparagus note card.
It read, “‘Joshi is truly special. I love him.’ –Gwyneth Paltrow.”

Gag, I thought, recoiling as I do at everything celebrity. And then I cracked it open.

Inside I read the preface by Dr. Nish Joshi, who, I was to learn, is London’s hottest holistic guru. The shameless name-dropping continued as Joshi talked about his long relationships with Diana, the Princess of Wales; Cate Blanchett; and Ralph Fiennes, all of whom love—or, in the case of Diana, loved—Joshi.
I read how this Indian healer, who has trained in traditional medicine and osteopathy, worked with legions of petulant, anorexic, injured, and toxic ballet dancers who lived on “diet soda, cigarettes, and tissue paper.” How Joshi brought them back to glowing good health and eternal gratitude for his ministrations, sharing with them all of the Ayurvedic dietary knowledge he gathered while raised on a strict Indian Brahmin diet. All of this is based on a very strict 21-day dietary regimen, which he was now graciously sharing with the rest of us in softcover for $19.95.

I was impressed by what looked like sound Ayurvedic principles in the book, and it was spring—a good time to cleanse. But the marketing hype, Joshi’s ego, and the celebrity endorsements were a turn-off.

I put the book back on the shelf, feeling a little embarrassed lest someone spot me holding a Gwyneth-gusher. I backed away slowly and headed over to the philosophy section on the other end of the store.

As I perused the latest translations of the Tao Te Ching, I was startled to see another copy of Joshi’s little white asparagus book staring back at me, now at least a kilometre away from its proper section. Had it just been dumped there by somebody who thought better of their decision?

Or was it fate?

What the hell, I thought. OK, Joshi, I’ll try your damn holistic detox thingy. After all—what’s 21 days?

A week and a half later, I realized that 21 days is an eternity when it involves no coffee, no caffeine, no wheat, no gluten, no dairy, no chocolate, no red meat, no fruit (except bananas), no sugar, no alcohol, no jams or spreads, and no processed or artificially produced foods.

An entry from my Joshi diary sums it up:

Day 9: As I write this, I’m in a funk from eating lentils and cabbage for lunch, which—while bland and unsatisfying—have nonetheless left me feeling bloated and approximately four months pregnant. I am also struggling to write a radio documentary, feeling a wave of sleepiness that I am unable to jolt myself out of with nice, rich, dark-roast, Bolivian coffee and a square of dark chocolate. My alternative: lukewarm green tea with lemon. I can also nibble on a rice cake. Rice cakes have no flavour and are the consistency of Styrofoam, but the way they break off explosively and scatter in a two-metre radius is somewhat entertaining for those around you...

Joshi’s cleanse did little for my happiness, and it created havoc on the home front. My 15-year-old daughter repeatedly stared into the refrigerator in horror: “Oh my god, Mom, there’s nothing but RICE! Rice milk, rice crackers, rice pasta, rice bread!”

“But, rice is…nice, sweetie,” I responded weakly, still shaky from caffeine-withdrawal. She started eating out with her friends.

I became obsessed with every morsel I put into my mouth, what it was made of, and where it came from. From dawn till dusk, Joshi’s voice buzzed in my head like a self-righteous holistic housefly. When I cheated or faltered, I felt crushing failure.

I’ll give Joshi this. At the end of 21 days, I stopped craving coffee, and undoubtedly alkalized my acidic system.

But do I love Joshi?

Not as much as a few squares of organic chocolate and a nice cup of free-trade Bolivian dark roast.

Pamela Post is a CBC News reporter. She loves her job, but remains open to offers from any major international dailies or networks to become their “spa bureau chief.”

| | | | | | | | |
printer friendly version