Happy and You Know It

Claire Martin isn’t in a good place. A talented musician, she’s facing a grim reality: her band, Vagabond, has soared to stardom without her, a sexier singer leading the band in her place. Broke and desperate, Claire takes a job as a playgroup musician, answering an ad from a group of wealthy women on New York’s Upper East Side. These women seem to have it all: beauty, wealth, handsome husbands, gorgeous children, supportive friendships. The group leader, Whitney is an Instagram star, and the pictures she posts of the playgroup suggest nothing less than the ease of charmed, perfect lives. Claire is embraced by the women, and it doesn’t take long for her to see that there’s unrest beneath the surface. The women’s focus on wellness isn’t surprising, but their commitment to an eye-popping-ly expensive vitamin regimen called TrueMommy strikes Claire as strange. And it turns out that TrueMommy isn’t the only part of playgroup based on shocking deception.

Happy and You Know It offers a glimpse of the rarified world of Instagram-able motherhood and the sometimes absurd wellness industry it feeds. Beneath the juicy, funny, gossipy surface are larger critiques of an industry exploiting women’s insecurities, leading women to believe that the only way to be a good mother (indeed, a TrueMommy) is to rely on expensive “solutions” promising support and fulfillment. Motherhood is an identity-shifting state, and the playgroup mothers stumble painfully while finding their footing. Too often, the wellness industry is there offering an easy place to land.