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Apple Cider Vinegar: The Belle Gibson Scam and the Cult of Wellness Lies

It was the ultimate con for the Instagram age: a doe-eyed Aussie influencer peddling the gospel of green juice and “healing through love,” all while selling a wellness empire built on a foundation of bald-faced lies. Belle Gibson wasn’t just another pretty face pushing detox teas—she claimed she had beaten terminal brain cancer without a shred of modern medicine. And the world, desperate for a feel-good story, bought it hook, line, and enema bag.

The Rise of a Wellness Queen

Back in 2013, Gibson burst onto the social media scene with a story too good to be true: diagnosed at 20 with a “malignant brain cancer,” given mere months to live, and then—against all odds—curing herself with kale smoothies and positive vibes. She built a rabid following of 200,000 believers, cashed in with a best-selling app, The Whole Pantry, and even landed a cookbook deal. Media outlets lined up to kiss her feet, with Elle Australia calling her “the most inspiring woman you’ve met this year” and Cosmopolitan handing her a “Fun, Fearless Female” award. The dream was real. Until it wasn’t.

Alycia Debnam-Carey

The Great Unraveling

It turned out Belle Gibson wasn’t a cancer survivor—she was just another grifter wrapped in organic linen. In 2015, the facade crumbled. Journalists dug in, inconsistencies piled up, and when confronted, Gibson admitted to Women’s Weekly: “No, none of it’s true.” She offered no real explanation, just a slurry of pseudo-profundity about being caught between “what I think I know and what is reality.” Translation: she was full of it.

Enter Apple Cider Vinegar

Netflix, smelling a juicy scammer story, has now turned Gibson’s hoax into Apple Cider Vinegar, a glossy miniseries starring hotties including Kaitlyn Dever, Aisha Dee and Alycia Debnam-Carey that is designed to both titillate and caution. The show plays with truth the same way its subject did, blending fact with fiction, peppering in surreal sequences (a Britney Spears Toxic lip-sync, anyone?), and keeping viewers guessing. It follows in the footsteps of Inventing Anna, The Dropout, and the rest of the scammer-verse, proving that while America may love a comeback, it also adores a good fraudster takedown.

Kaitlyn Dever

Scamming in the Age of Instagram

Gibson wasn’t just any liar—she was a pioneer in the influencer scam industrial complex. She understood the currency of authenticity before it became a marketing term, weaponizing Instagram’s early days to turn her fairytale into cold, hard cash. She wasn’t the last, either. From The Tinder Swindler to The Hollywood Con Queen, social media has become the new frontier for grifters—where a well-curated feed can trump credentials, and truth is just another branding exercise.

The Cost of the Con

Unlike your garden-variety influencer scam, Gibson’s deception had lethal consequences. She sold snake oil to real cancer patients, convincing the vulnerable that celery juice could replace chemo. The series introduces Milla Blake, a character based on real-life cancer blogger Jessica Ainscough, who also preached the gospel of alternative medicine—before dying of the very disease she thought she could cleanse away. Then there are the nameless, faceless followers who might have ditched real treatment for Gibson’s lies. That’s the real crime.

Aisha Dee

The Aftermath: Scammer to Recluse

After her empire crumbled, Gibson dodged accountability like a pro. In 2017, she was fined $410,000 for misleading consumers, but as of 2024, she’s still ducking payments, claiming she can’t afford it. She rebranded as “Sabontu” and tried to hitch her wagon to an Ethiopian community, but her con artist stench followed. When confronted at a petrol station in February 2024 about her unpaid fines, she could only muster a weak, “Have some humanity.”

The Lesson? Don’t Believe the Hype

Netflix wants you to Google what happened next, and maybe that’s the point. Belle Gibson got away with her fraud for years because people wanted to believe. The wellness industry—now worth $6.3 trillion—is still rife with gurus pushing miracle cures and holistic hokum. From convicted “healer” Hongchi Xiao, whose fasting retreat led to a diabetic woman’s death, to influencer Kat Torres, found guilty of human trafficking under the guise of spirituality, the scam never ends—only the names change.

So here’s the only detox worth trying: purge yourself of blind faith in internet influencers. Take every claim with a shot of skepticism (and maybe a whiskey chaser). Because as long as there are desperate people searching for hope, there will always be a Belle Gibson waiting in the wings, ready to sell them the lie they want to hear.

Last modified: February 6, 2025

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