I Spent A Week Living Like Miranda Kerr, Here’s What Happened

Full disclosure: I did not move to a Malibu mansion, I was not booked for one single modelling gig (how rude), and I did not suddenly receive millions of dollars in my bank account. I didn’t literally spend a week living exactly like Miranda Kerr. But I did eat, sleep and exercise like her expecting, of course, a miraculously transform into her. This didn’t happen. What did happen though, has been a touch life changing. So I thought I’d share my diary of the week.

SUNDAY:

I want to start this process off right, so I’m booked to do a ‘Deep Day’ with esteemed meditation teacher, Gary Gorrow. I learnt Vedic Meditation a few years ago – although, my practice is pretty sporadic, which sort of defeats its purpose. But I digress. Deep Day is six hours of straight yoga and meditation. That’s no typo. Gary offers the class a meditative yoga sequence that is repeated, without speaking (but yes to toilet breaks), for half a day. After spending my normal life chasing a one year old, and using wine and Twin Peaks as a stress sedative, I need an intense zen kick-start to my Miranda week. The hours actually go quickly, and Gary’s as-ever calm vibe has rubbed off on me – I don’t get any road rage on the way home, even though I was cut off. I’m officially in the zone.

MONDAY:

Miranda’s day starts with…

• Meditation (tick)
• Warm water (tick)
• Organic pressed juice (tick… but this is going to be expensive – 9 bucks for 250mL, yikes!)
• 1 poached egg with a tblsp of avo on gluten free toast
• Breakfast Smoothie: Kora Organics Noni Glow Skinfood Supplement, almond milk, fresh papaya, raspberries and protein powder. (tick… I make myself, so I don’t need an extra job to fund this story). It’s legit delicious.

For the most part this experiment revolves around food because, as mentioned, I’m currently not rich nor famous so my life as Miranda stops between snacks so far. I’m relieved to find I’m not starving (girlfriend genuinely packs away a good amount food, I’m struggling to keep up). I do an online yoga class while my son takes a nap, then finish the day off with fresh vegetables and hummus, salmon and green salad. I go to bed smug while listening to her suggested Sleep Well app.

TUESDAY:

I forgot to mention yesterday: all initial investigation suggests Miranda does not drink coffee. So the experiment stops here…

Ok ok ok, I’m kidding. But, I’m struggling. Monday wasn’t so bad because the four lattes I had as a last hoorah on Sunday were still in my veins. Today, though? Dead. And my son wakes up an hour earlier than normal so plans for morning meditation go to the wayside. I feel head-achy and flustered. But I manage to down all of her meals and beverages before 11am and finally feel the head pounding alleviate. After another yoga session (I opt for a gentle Yin session, couldn’t deal with anything too bendy and difficult today) I feel fresher. Check my face and still don’t look like Miranda. Shame. I repeat arvo snacks, down 6 cups of herbal tea and replace yesterday’s salmon with grilled chicken. I notice I haven’t felt bloated since starting this… I go to bed with the sounds of Sleep Well and husband asks if we can continue this because he’s sleeping like a baby (pfft, as if they sleep… but anyway, that’s for another day).

WEDNESDAY:

I’m hungry. Here is my normal day on a plate: Peanut butter on wholemeal toast

• Coffee
• Scraps from my kid’s highchair
• Coffee
• Chocolatey snack from Uber Eats with $5 tacked on to price because I’m desperate
• Black tea
• Whatever my husband cooks for dinner
• Glass of wine.

There appears to be enough nutrients and calories in this food switch up, but the lack of carbs at night makes me hungrier in the mornings. I would sell my kid to the closest barista for an almond milk latte. Instead, I spend an hour on the internet searching for any sentence she has ever said that includes ‘I drink coffee.’ I FIND ONE. 2007, she says she sometimes has a latte. So ‘sometimes’ is going to be conveniently interpreted as “all days from Wed ’til Sat”. The first sip is the single greatest moment of my life and don’t care that I’ve also graduated, met the love of my life, watched Florence (of ‘and the Machine’) lose her mind on stage so hard she lost her shirt and sprained her ankle, birthed a human and watched Melrose Place in its entirety three times. Today is a good day. Still no bloating.

THURSDAY:

I’ve gone into this a little sceptical of the aesthetic benefits, figuring it was too short a time period to make any difference. But my skin is legit glowing. It’s so foreign, I wonder if I’m hallucinating from the delayed coffee hit. I ask my husband and – while he doesn’t know what ‘glowy’ is and questions its validity as an actual word – he does say I look good. Do you know the last time I looked good without makeup? 1999. I only put BB Cream on today and don’t feel like Charlize Theron in Monster. I guess it’s no happy accident that Miranda doesn’t age and looks perennially fresh. I promise myself I’m doing this whole thing forever and ever.

FRIDAY:

I’m a bit bored with the food situation. In Miranda’s defence, I have pulled my food plan from her ‘day on a plate’ admissions, so her actual week could be more varied than what I’m eating. I’m still on board with the smoothie (this is not a sponsored post, I genuinely love this powder, it’s so tasty), and the morning egg on toast is a winner. But my 3pm cravings for chocolate aren’t wavering. She says she eats chocolate coated Goji berries, so I sell a vital organ on the black market to fund the purchase of a packet. They’re ok… Are they a brownie? No. So my favourite part of the day has now become the bedtime routine. Once spent scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, I now go phone free for an hour before bed, pop it on flight mode overnight and listen to the wave sound option on Sleep Well. I’m in love with this process, and wake up fresh.

SATURDAY:

I cheat. Well, actually, my husband has sabotaged me in my sleep. He forgets my plan and I wake up to a latte and croissant. While this gives him major points in life, he gets full blame for ruining my chance at model stardom. My skin still looks amazing and although I did bloat after the butter-infused pastry of amazingness, I keep up with my Kerr sched the rest of the day and continue to feel great. I consider cancelling dinner plans with friends because I want to finish this right (and wine and arancini balls are always on the menu). But then, does Miranda hibernate? Nope. So, I go and I don’t drink. I order the grilled chicken and salad, ditch dessert. It’s not the greatest dinner out I’ve ever had (food-wise) but surprisingly doable and not a single person questioned my menu and sans wine choices. Although, I do believe my friends now think I’m pregnant…