(p. D1) As recently as last month, one could hardly throw a lentil in New York City without hitting an Organic Avenue storefront, with its orange banner, stick-figure logo and promise of better living through $9 cayenne-infused lemonade.
Kat Schamens, a yoga teacher and fitness-apparel designer, liked it that way. “I would always think, ‘I can’t wait to go in and get my chickpea soup,’ ” she said.
In mid-October, Ms. Schamens learned that Organic Avenue’s 10 stores had been shuttered and that the company had filed for bankruptcy. “I kind of freaked out,” she said. “I was distraught. I lost my yoga for a minute.”
. . .
(p. D7) The loyalty of devotees like Ms. Schamens and Ms. Kerin notwithstanding, there is an admitted emperor’s new clothes quality to paying $25 for a lunch of vegetable shavings and a smoothie made of Swiss chard, cashew milk and Himalayan salt.
“You can’t get people to crave this food,” the former investor said. “You can’t build a long-term business off what Gwyneth Paltrow likes.”
Some researchers began to publish studies questioning the necessity and safety of juice cleanses. And the fashion world started to feel pushback from nutritionists and eating-disorder activists against its support of juicing in early 2013, after the Council of Fashion Designers of America announced a 50 percent discount for models on Organic Avenue juices during New York Fashion Week.
For the full story, see:
KATHERINE ROSMAN. “How Organic Avenue Lost All Its Juice.” The New York Times (Sun., NOV. 5, 2015): D1 & D7.
(Note: ellipsis added.)
(Note: the online version of the story has the date NOV. 4, 2015.)