Four Women Reveal Their Horror Stories of Teddi Mellencamp’s ‘All In by Teddi’ Diet

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Anyone who’s kept up with Bravo’s Real Housewives of Beverly Hills over the past three years knows cast member Teddi Mellencamp’s proclivity for holding others accountable. Not just in the “you didn’t come to my event!” or “are you friends with Brandi Glanville?” way but in regard to her actual occupation as an “accountability coach.”

The mysterious title refers to Mellencamp’s accountability coaching program called All In by Teddi, a weight-loss system that’s faced scrutiny over the past week for its alleged harmful messaging, minimal diet, expensive fees, inexperienced staff, and hostile manner of holding clients “accountable” for their commitment to the program. While her days as a housewife are confirmed to be over, Real Housewives fans on social media are still demanding answers from Mellencamp as former clients claim they feel traumatized and swindled by her company.

The whistleblowing began in June of last year, when an anonymous person shared their negative experience with All In in a Facebook post that was eventually shared on Reddit. Writer Chrissy Stockton reported on the post in an article for Thought Catalog, and comedians Casey Wilson and Danielle Schneider discussed it on their popular Real Housewives recap podcast Bitch Sesh (in the latest episode, they said Mellencamp’s camp sent them a cease-and-desist). Fast-forward more than a year later, on Sept. 15, to fashion influencer Emily Gellis Lande, who called similar attention to Tanya Zuckerbrot’s popular F-Factor Diet, posting Stockton’s article on her Instagram and attracting a multitude of personal stories from previous clients in her inbox.

“My friend who runs Deuxmoi [an Instagram gossip account] had been posting a few things about All In by Teddi,” Lande told me by phone. “So I reached out to her. And I was like, what’s the deal? Is this on the same scale as the F-Factor stuff? And she was like, yeah, it’s really bad.”

Screenshots of the direct messages can still be found in Lande’s Instagram highlights. And there are plenty. Former participants complain about the program’s limited calorie allowance, strict workout schedule and daily check-ins with assigned accountability coaches that require sending photos of every meal and snack, and, at one point, the client’s weight on a scale. There’s also a screenshot of the initial text message sent to clients requesting a photo of them in their bra and undies. Some of these demands are outlined on the All In website, but most require paying for the program to attain full details.

A quick rundown of All In: The first interval of the program, “Jumpstart,” is the most expensive at $599. For two weeks, participants “detoxify” and “reset” their bodies before moving on to the “Monthly” program ($399 a month), which they can do indefinitely but must commit to for a month before moving on to the “Weight and Workout” stage ($5.90 a day or $165 a month). This part of the program requires that participants provide daily proof of their weight and finished cardio workouts. And the final, less intense interval “Maintenance” costs $3.40 a day or $94 a month, and offers “simple check-ins and monitoring.” Diet plans reportedly vary by client, as determined by accountability coaches.

Seemingly, the most frustrating component in all of this—as seen repeatedly in Lande’s screenshots—is that All In does not offer refunds and only considers them in the case of an unforeseen medical issue with provided proof within a certain amount of time, according to its site. Not only did past participants claim they felt ashamed and disappointed when they had to quit early or gained all the weight back after they stopped but also believed they were scammed out of hundreds of dollars.

The Daily Beast spoke with several women about their experiences with All In and why they feel they were set up to fail with the program.

When you are living on 500 calories, your body is depleted. I had a hard time accomplishing anything else each day. I went to bed around 7:30 p.m. because I didn’t have any energy left.

“They don’t let you know the menu before you start,” said one woman who signed up for All In in 2019 and quit during the two-week jumpstart. “I understood this in terms of protecting their program from being ripped off. They let you know that it’s vegetarian and dairy-free, which I was fine with. But I was really surprised at how little I was allowed to eat.”

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