It is so easy to knock Bloom’s life mechanic, but wouldn’t we all eat better and sleep better given the option?
Let Them Eat Brain Octane Oil: In Defense of Orlando Bloom's Daily Routine
Celebrities, they’re not like us. According to a Sunday Times Magazine piece this week, Orlando Bloom is living what can only be described as his fullest life in LA. I’m going to try and top-line his daily antics without any glib comments (wish me luck). After logging the quality of his rest on a sleep tracker, he leaves sleeping beauty Katy Perry in bed to begin his day of back-to-back zen-equalizing 90%-plant-based self-care. In fairness, it starts out quite relatably. He coos over his baby daughter, reflecting on fatherhood the second time around (Bloom has a 10-year-old son with Miranda Kerr). He mentions he’s a Capricorn. But things start to go awry before breakfast (a meal he apparently earns with a Nirvana-soundtracked hike). Orlando chants for 20 minutes, Orlando posts about Buddhism on his Instagram stories, Orlando reaches for the collagen powder. We are right on the cusp of silliness here as Orlando admits “It’s all quite LA, really” before happily plowing into his day peppered with a kind of woo-woo modern spirituality, seemingly designed to make reader’s eyes roll all the way back into their skulls.
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The internet, god bless her, turned on Bloom’s daily routine, ridiculing his reverence of cattle (“the most beautiful thing ever”). Readers bemoaned his un-relatability with many crying spoof. It is, on reflection, a deeply impractical existence for a lad from Britain, a country so proud of its practicality, our make-do-and-mend mentality, our lack of airs and graces (even the Queen slogs through the mud at Balmoral). By far the most out-there aspect of Bloom's morning is the brain octane oil he ripples through his pre-breakfast, which sounds like something a high-functioning NASA astronaut sips from a gravity-packet. But in spite of my robust and protective cynicism, I found myself nodding along to his regime of meat-dodging, intermittent Lego-building, and reminders to respect the doorman. Orlando has the right idea.
This story originally appeared on: Vogue - Author:Raven Smith