The Beauty Experiment: How I Skipped Lipstick, Ditched Fashion, Faced the World Without Concealer, and Learned to Love the Real Me, by Phoebe Baker Hyde. Da Capo Press. 248 pp. $16.
Wheat Belly Cookbook: 150 Recipes to Help You Lose the Wheat, Lose the Weight, and Find Your Path Back to Health, by William Davis, M.D. Rodale Books. 352 pp. $27.99.
Making Habits, Breaking Habits: Why We Do Things, Why We Don’t, and How to Make Any Change Stick, by Jeremy Dean. Da Capo Press. 256 pp. $26.
OH, those pesky Mayans. It was bad enough that their ancient astro-forecast led many people to quake all year long for fear that the end of the world was not only nigh but specifically nigh — as in, Dec. 21 nigh. But when, on Dec. 22, the human race discovered that doomsday had come and gone without apparent incident, more Mayan mischief kicked in: mankind found itself with only 10 days to come up with New Year’s resolutions, a necessity too many had assumed would be made moot by apocalypse.
Remarkably, three books have emerged since the nonfateful winter solstice that can help everyone become a finer creature in the brave new world of 2013. All of these books — one about self-image, one about diet and one about habits — would seem, on the face of it, to be counterintuitive. That’s an appropriate attribute for a year that never was supposed to exist.
The first thing you might like to know about “The Beauty Experiment,” a memoir by Phoebe Baker Hyde, is the improbable fact that the author’s picture was taken by a 4-year-old. What woman, what writer, would make such a devil-may-care move? Experiment, indeed. Ms. Hyde’s book is a testament to her hard-won conviction that, when it comes to appearance, externals do not matter. In her early 30s, after giving birth to her first child (a daughter), Ms. Hyde “bought thicker makeup and brighter lipstick” and a flashy red velvet dress, hoping to glamorize the “zombie” she saw in the mirror. A photo of herself in the velvet togs showed her that she looked “not sexy, but shaggy; not ‘Red-Hot,’ but hangdog,” and made her cry, “because I was stupid, vain, heartbroken and ashamed of all of it.”
In February 2007, woebegone and “at war with myself,” she decided to shun cosmetics, hair salons and pricey clothes for an entire year to see if she could shore up her self-esteem by making peace with her unadorned raw materials. The antidote to her feelings of inadequacy, she decided, was “to be free of illusions.” Getting a short haircut at her husband’s barbershop, eschewing lipstick and even earrings, she “dragged an oppressive sense of plain Janeness” around for a month, but soon began to feel empowered by her “Momnisexual” look. After having another child (a son), she stuck with a pared-down approach. These days, she writes, when she spots her reflection in a mirror, she no longer sees “wrinkles, anxiety, zits, or exhaustion, although they are all there. Instead, I see a face, a person, a personality, a life.”
Ms. Hyde’s postpartum funk was caused in part by baby weight she could not shed, but childbirth is not the only spur to extra poundage. Dr. William Davis, a preventive cardiologist in Milwaukee, argued in his best-selling 2011 book “Wheat Belly” that wheat — yes, even whole-grain wheat — the ingredient of everyone’s daily bread, is unhealthy. “I recognize that declaring wheat a malicious food is like declaring that Ronald Reagan was a Communist,” he concedes.
Nevertheless, the doctor not only stuck to his guns, but also issued a manifesto expounding his wheatless worldview, in the form of the “Wheat Belly Cookbook,” which he dedicates to “everyone who has come to understand the liberation that emerges with wheatlessness.”
Over the last decade, Dr. Davis put himself and thousands of his patients who were “at risk for heart disease, diabetes, and the myriad destructive effects of obesity” on wheat-free regimens. He says he watched them not only lose 20, 30, 50, even 100 pounds or more, but also recover from chronic diseases like ulcerative colitis and diabetes.
Investigating these results, he learned that a high-yield hybrid “dwarf” strain of wheat had been developed in the United States in the middle of the last century, and adopted not only here but also around the world. This “Frankengrain” as he calls it, thickens waistlines and causes ills from acne, psoriasis, depression and migraines to arthritis, diabetes, obesity and heart disease. Worse, the doctor contends, it contains a protein called gliadin that stimulates appetite and dupes gullible neurons into craving food the body does not need. In his cookbook, Dr. Davis says that gliadins tempt people to eat 440 calories more per day than their grandparents did. Gliadins are opiates, he explains, which “generate a need for more ... and more, and more.”
Whether or not you’re persuaded, such arguments have played a part in starting the gluten-free wave that engulfs the country. But the doctor warns against assuming that every glitch is gluten. Though he considers wheat the worst offender, he mistrusts other grains as well, and warns gluten-free converts to read labels closely, because “rice starch, cornstarch, potato starch, and tapioca starch” send blood sugar levels soaring.
In his cookbook, with scores of grain-free recipes for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert — brownies, cupcakes and Key lime pie, made with flour ground from beans, nuts and flaxseed — he points another way forward. Cooking, baking and eating without wheat is a “cataclysmic revelation for most people,” he admits. “It’s unsettling, it’s upsetting, it’s downright inconvenient.” Still, he asks, what is a bit of inconvenience, weighed against the rapture of watching a “protuberant, flop-over-the-belt belly vanish?”
If you were to try to give up wheat for the new year, how long do you think you would be able to stick it out before you crumbled and ordered a bagel? Jeremy Dean, a London psychologist and pop psychology blogger, notes in “Making Habits, Breaking Habits” that conventional wisdom holds that it takes the “magic figure of 21 days” to form a new habit. This reckoning turns out to be faulty, Mr. Dean explains, if the habit is complicated or replaces an existing one. Sixty-six days — a little more than two months — is a more reasonable span, he suggests; but 254 days is not out of the question.
Demonstrating how a person might forge a new pattern of behavior, Mr. Dean describes the notional measure of switching to whole-wheat bread from white over a period of several weeks. “I intended to eat more healthily, and now I am,” he explains. Obviously, Dr. Davis would beg to differ — not that Mr. Dean, who addresses generalities, not gastrointestinal realities, and motivation rather than medicine, would care, in all likelihood. “Why, exactly, do you want to make a new habit?” he asks. “Sometimes, the reasons are obvious and don’t need any further soul-searching, but this isn’t always the case.”
This statement hints that he might suspect that the business of making habits and breaking habits, fraught and chancy as it may sometimes be, is not the end of the world.
This article has been revised to reflect the following correction:
Correction: January 7, 2013
An earlier version of this column misstated in a passing reference the equivalent length of time that Jeremy Dean, the author of “Making Habits, Breaking Habits: Why We Do Things, Why We Don’t, and How to Make Any Change Stick,” believes is reasonable for forming a new habit. As the column stated, Mr. Dean believes it is 66 days. But that is equivalent to a little more than two months, not three.
