May 2009 - Posts
By Helen A.S. Popkin, tech editor
What it is: YogaToes by YogaPro, $49.95 plus shipping
According to the manufacturer's Web site, YogaToes do the following:
Exercise your feet to stay healthy & in shape.
Improve and prevent foot problems by stretching & aligning your toes.
Ease the discomfort of hammertoes, bunions & plantar fasciitis.
Recover from stress, strain and overuse. Improve foot strength, flexibility and appearance.
Increase circulation, straighten bent toes, and realign joints.
Improve and reduce the aches and pains associated with poor posture.
My experience: “Make sure that you are getting the authentic YogaToes,” warns the YogaPro Web site. “Beware of imitations.” And indeed there are imitators; Pampered Toes ($9.99) and Healthytoes ($34.99) to name two. You get what you pay for, seems to be the implication. Upon casual inspection however, YogaToes and its imitators seem at least superficially the same. CONTINUED >>
By Diane Mapes, contributing writer
What it is: The Diet Plate (sale price $40, plus postage and handling)
What it claims to do: According to the Web site, the Diet Plate system is “the world’s first, original portion control method of weight management” – and with it, you’ll avoid all the guesswork of maintaining a healthy, balanced diet “whilst losing weight” (as you might have guessed by that “whilst,” the company is in England). The Diet Plate weight management system does this by providing you with “visual management of your daily intake of food.” In other words, the 11-inch plate and the accompanying Calibrated Breakfast Bowl are cluttered with visual clues (illustrations of food, tape measures, arrows, circles, etc.) that tell you how much you should eat of what. Diet Plates come in three “sizes” – male, female and child (this last has a wizard motif) – and are microwave and dishwasher safe.
My experience: When I first opened the box containing my Diet Plate and Breakfast Bowl (they’re a set), I thought they were adorable. Rimmed by a band of light blue (inside of which were affirming messages like “You can do it. Exercise daily. Diet with a friend.”), the plate was cleverly divvied up into different sections. Protein, represented by illustrations of ham and fish, went here; starch, marked by bowls of rice and potatoes, went there. A circle around the outside showed how much pasta you could dish up; a smaller circle in the middle helped solve the sauce dilemma. The Breakfast Bowl was less ornate but still helpful. Colored bands indicated how many cups of cornflakes or shredded wheat you should eat each morning (the booklet offered a breakdown of what line to use for a 200-calorie serving of various cereals). The whole system seemed cute, colorful and ingenious, and I sort of regretted having to cover it all up with food.
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