Next month, Her Grace the Duchess of Goop Gwyneth Paltrow will be hosting a fundraiser for the Democratic Party. Special guest: Barack Obama. Oh, Lord, to be a fly on those no-doubt very thoroughly scrubbed walls!
According to the Hollywood Reporter, the gathering will take the form of a reception followed by an "intimate dinner" in which various attendees will have the opportunity to ask the president some questions. Plates go for $1,000 to $32,400. This is her second fundraiser involving Obama — the last, held in London with Tom Ford, was for his reelection campaign. (His last L.A. trip, in July, included another DNC fundraiser, at Shonda Rhimes' house.)
Unfortunately, the Secret Service would never in a million years allow peons such as your humble Jezebel staffers to breach the sanctum sanctorum that is the Paltrow Compound. So instead, we imagined the scene. Here is your fanfictional account of Gwyneth Paltrow's fundraiser for the Democratic Party, starring Barack Obama.
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Gwyneth checks the hors d'oeuvres (gluten-free crackers with seaweed paste; tiny cups of curiously flavorless green juice; and also tiny artisanal chicken nuggets because everyone always assumes she lives on air and she'll show them) for the 42nd time that evening. She looks at the invitation, sighs, wishes yet again that she'd been allowed to pick something that didn't look quite so much like a form letter that would go out with the annual calendar giveaway. The Goop lifestyle is all about simple, elegant personal touches that cost at least $250.
By the time she drifts from the kitchen, guests are mingling. George Clooney and Matt Damon are by the punchbowl, engaging in a not-so-subtle game of charity one-upmanship; they both start and begin looking for a hiding place when they think they hear Ben Affleck. (False alarm; he's busy playing poker somewhere gross.) Gwyneth breaks in to share her thoughts regarding positive energy and the structure of water with Damon.
Notably absent: Amal Alamuddin. Presumably she is at work at her very serious job as a barrister because she is utterly out of Clooney's league.
Jay Z and Beyoncé don't arrive so much as descend from Mount Olympus on a cloud. Beyoncé spends every conversation looking at a point just two degrees to the left of the head of whoever she's talking to, like a very gracious parrot, but nobody notices because they're speaking to her royal fucking highness Beyoncé.
Also not in attendance: Kimye. (Please.)
Dinner is served. It involves a shitload of gourds. Gourds in the centerpieces, gourds in the soup, duck with roasted gourds, gourds in the dessert. Organic gourds, of course, from the L.A. farmer's market. Gwyneth selected every single gourd herself. She wore Tom Ford while picking her gourds. She tells Jeffrey Katzenberg all about the proper way to select a ripe gourd. Jeffrey Katzenberg does not care.
Everyone is very careful not to mention Martha Stewart, who is fucking dead to Gwyneth Paltrow. Do you hear me? DEAD.
The questions begin. It is essentially a freshman seminar, the kind of thing where everyone is mostly concerned with sounding very thoughtful about the world's problems. Lots of terribly serious frowns. People have practiced these frowns in the mirror. These are special political frowns. J.J. Abrams, who wants to make sure he won't be slapped with some sort of antitrust suit for getting his mitts on both Star Wars and Star Trek. (In the middle of his question he pauses to explain the concept of the Mystery Box; Obama looks bewildered.)
Gwyneth contributes a question about environmental protection; she leads by noting that there are no birds on Guam.
Sean Penn bursts in exactly seven minutes before the end of the question period. "Sorry I'm late," he says, totally not sorry, tossing his hair back. "Traffic. Goddamn streetcar conspiracy." Nobody pays attention to anything else that comes out of his mouth because Charlize Theron sails in behind him, with a mysterious glow as though her dermis were literally made of gold. (It probably is.)
Finally the evening comes to a close and Obama is hustled into a waiting limo. A very satisfied Gwyneth does not hear when he sits back, removes his tie and asks whether they can please stop at a goddamn In-N-Out for some real food.
Photos via Getty.