Gwyneth Paltrow’s Pre-Wedding Beauty Routine (If We Had to Guess)

This week, it was announced that Gwyneth Paltrow and Brad Falchuk are reportedly engaged after meeting in 2014 on the set of Glee.

Which, like, great. Congratulations to them but also congratulations to all of us who know that Goop will finally step up to the matrimonial plate, by outlining Gwyneth’s pre-wedding beauty routine. But, since nothing’s been posted yet, we can only make assumptions. And these, dear reader, are mine.

On the day before her wedding, Gwyneth rises from her nightly eleven-hour slumber. Like a model in an Anne Geddes campaign, she unzips the tulip pod she sleeps in and stretches, making direct eye contact with the sun, who winks from behind its sunglasses. She smiles, smearing the pollen from her pod across her forehead. A goat saunters over. She milks it, then pours the goat’s milk into the bathtub. Here, she will lay for approximately 64 minutes.

As she soaks up the goat’s milk protein, Gwyneth listens to a soundtrack of whale sounds set to a harp played by a small ferret. She picks up a bar of soap shaped like a swan. It is made of Crisco, but the bird imagery adds to its charm, to its mythos. She conditions her hair using the swan-Crisco before rinsing it out with a small mason jar of apple juice. “Apple cider vinegar is overrated,” she whispers to herself, sprinkling cinnamon over the crown of her head. “In 2018, cinammon will replace dry shampoo,” she silently vows.

Gwyneth drains the tub before refilling it with molasses and golden syrup. She lays back down, using a paste made of flour, sugar, baking soda, and butter as a body scrub. She turns up the heat while switching the soundtrack and cracking two eggs that she applies to her cuticles. This holiday-themed full-body facial will be soundtracked exclusively to the solo album of a woman who sang on the Titanic soundtrack—a movie Gwyneth was not in, but auditioned for. “Kate Winslet could never handle this,” she says to herself, while nodding off to sleep.

One hour later, Gwyneth wakes up, now fully enclosed in a bathtub-sized ginger cake, which the goat has begun to eat as an early afternoon meal. She grabs a the end of her loofah and carves herself out as two small birds wait with her wedding gown, made of recycled mink from 1792. She steps into it, admiring the way her bath has made her skin glow amidst the stickiness of the molasses and scent of baking soda. She pauses to select a rose quartz from her pile of crystals, which of course spell out “GLUTEN-FREE” on the side of the tub. She looks in the mirror, admiring the way her hair has taken on the hue of a weak mulled wine. She eats one grape, spitting the seeds out, and placing them in her palm to reap their detoxifying benefits. She pours a small shot of green juice into a hollowed-out plum, and sips it with a straw. She has never looked better.

Finally, taking a deep breath, she lays out a path of alfalfa sprouts on which she will walk to the altar. Barefoot and wearing only her old mink wedding gown, she lights a scented candle that smells like inside of a very expensive cabin that’s been decorated to seem rustic. “I am folksy,” Gwyneth says bravely, placing a small top hat on a nearby squirrel.

She dons a crown made of $6000 worth of foraged mushrooms. She is nature’s bride now.