Legacy alt-rock meets wellness influencer culture as the Smashing Pumpkins partner with grocery store Erewhon for a $19.79 OG Goth smoothie, celebrating "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" turning 30.
Why it matters: Celebrity smoothies have become viral cultural moments. After Hailey Bieber and Travis Scott, this new offering signals that '90s icons could be next to cash in on millennial nostalgia.
Why now: The album had its 30th anniversary in October. Gen X and elder millennials have disposable income and health anxiety. Brands are capitalizing on both.
I've always been skeptical of Erewhon. The whole "aspirational health" vibe, with its selfie-ready shelves and sky-high prices, never felt like my scene, so I made a point of avoiding it.
But a Smashing Pumpkins-sponsored smoothie? This band soundtracked my awkward adolescence from Siamese Dream through Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness.
So when I heard the band had teamed up with Erewhon to create the OG Goth Smoothie in celebration of the 30th anniversary of Mellon Collie, I was curious. It places the Pumpkins alongside Hailey Bieber, Kendall Jenner, and Travis Scott in the pantheon of celebrity smoothie collaborators — exactly where we all expected grunge royalty to end up — but could my '90s younger self pull me in?
The answer was yes.
Into the belly of the beast
I chose the Manhattan Beach location because it was closest to my home in Long Beach. When I entered, I was surprised by how normal it felt — slightly more upscale than your average grocery store but not quite the temple of wellness excess I'd imagined. Turns out, overpriced organic produce looks pretty much the same everywhere.
I ordered the drink from the electronic kiosk at the Tonic Bar. It cost an eye-watering $19.79 before taxes and tip (a nod to the Pumpkins' hit single, "1979").
I'd intentionally come with an empty stomach to see if a $20 smoothie could actually replace a meal. While waiting, I nervously scrolled Google Maps for the nearest pizza slice, just in case it didn’t. Before I found one, my name was called, signaling that my order was ready.
What do you get for your money? Picture a muted Jackson Pollock painting — dark streaks against a blue-white background — with a moody, apocalyptic vibe prompting you to question whether you're nourishing your body or summoning '90s rock spirits.
It contains no pumpkins whatsoever — unclear if that's irony or oversight. What it does include is longer than a lyric sheet: organic almond milk, cola-flavored mushroom elixir, raw coconut yogurt, liquid electrolytes, coconut water, chocolate ganache, black sesame butter, peanut butter, banana, avocado, dates, chia, maple syrup, blue spirulina, chlorella, cacao powder, lucuma, beet juice and lion's mane.
I'd never had a more ingredient-packed smoothie, which could explain why it costs more than a decent bottle of wine.
The verdict: Intoxicated with madness
I took my first sip with caution and was pleasantly surprised. Chocolatey notes, nutty flavors, almond, and a hint of banana created a well-balanced taste. With each sip, I wondered: Had I finally entered my "health goth" era? Was this what Billy Corgan meant by "intoxicated with the madness, I'm in love with my sadness"?
Chabrán, moments after tasting the Erewhon OG Goth Smoothie. Not bad at all.
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Gab Chabrán
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LAist
)
I finished the entire thing and felt satisfyingly full — not stuffed, but nourished, like after a good salad or fruit platter. Would I make this part of my routine? Probably not. But I'd spend the same amount on tacos without hesitation, which says more about what I've come to accept as a meal than the smoothie itself.
The long drive home
I drove home down the 405 freeway with Mellon Collie playing on my stereo, pondering whether I'm any better off than I was at 15, listening to the same album in my bedroom. The smoothie was good. The nostalgia was potent. The price was ridiculous.
