LipoDyne Ingredients

Read from the Supplement Facts panel on the bottle artwork. The last column is the useful one: five of the six rows hand part of the answer to a document the buyer does not have.

A panel is a list of weights, and a weight only means something once you know what the material is. Caffeine anhydrous is a pure compound, so its weight is its dose. The other five rows are plant concentrates, and a concentrate’s weight is a weight of plant material that has already been through a process nobody has described on the label.

That is not a criticism of this bottle in particular. It is how the category is labelled, and most of the competition does not get as far as printing the weights at all. What it means practically is that the caffeine row can be compared with research directly and the others need a percentage that is not there.

The sum is worth having. Add the column and a capsule carries 1,060 mg of active material, which is an arithmetic anybody can repeat against the bottle in their hand. A proprietary blend would have made that impossible.

Standardisation is the missing word on most supplement labels, and it is the whole difference between a number you can use and a number you can only read.

A standardised extract states the share of the active compound it carries. “Green tea extract, 250 mg, standardised to 50 per cent EGCG” tells you 125 mg of EGCG. “Green tea extract, 250 mg” tells you the weight of the powder and stops. Both are legal, both look identical in a shop, and only one can be set against a trial.

Caffeine anhydrous has no such problem because there is no plant left in it. It is a dried single compound, so 100 mg on the panel is 100 mg in the capsule, and the 1989 trial that measured 100 mg can be read as describing this exact amount. That is why the caffeine row is the one this desk quotes figures against without qualification.

The practical version: of the six rows, one supports arithmetic and five support comparison only if the manufacturer publishes a specification sheet. An assay of products in this wider category is the reason that distinction is worth making rather than assuming.

Two rows carry most of the weight on this panel and both are extracts with no strength printed. That is the single largest gap between what the bottle says and what a reader can do with it, and it is stated here once rather than in every section that mentions an extract.

Garcinia is the clearest case. The 1998 JAMA trial gave 1,500 mg of hydroxycitric acid a day for twelve weeks to 135 overweight adults and found no advantage over placebo. Commercial rind extracts commonly run between 50 and 60 per cent hydroxycitric acid, which would put 500 mg of extract somewhere near 250 to 300 mg of acid. The word doing the work in that sentence is “commonly”, and a buyer is entitled to better than a category average.

Green tea has the same shape with a wider range. Nagao’s twelve-week trial ran on 583 mg of catechins a day and a later trial on 857 mg of EGCG. Leaf extracts on sale run anywhere from 20 to 98 per cent catechins, so 250 mg of this extract could plausibly carry 50 mg or 240 mg, and those are different products.

None of that makes the ingredients wrong. It makes the comparison one-directional: this desk can say with confidence that neither row reaches its trial amount, and cannot say by how far. Where a figure cannot be established it is left open here rather than filled in with a plausible one.

Apple cider vinegar powder is vinegar dried onto a carrier, usually maltodextrin, so it can sit in a capsule instead of a glass. The convenience is real and so is the arithmetic problem that comes with it.

The study this ingredient’s reputation rests on is Kondo’s twelve-week trial, which gave 175 obese Japanese adults 15 mL or 30 mL of liquid vinegar daily. Those volumes carry roughly 750 mg and 1,500 mg of acetic acid. A 2025 meta-analysis of body composition located the clearer effects at the higher of the two.

The panel row is 150 mg of powder. Even if that powder were pure acetic acid, which no vinegar powder is, it would be a fifth of the smaller trial volume. The honest reading is that this row is a nod to a popular ingredient rather than a dose of it, and a reader who wants the Kondo protocol is describing a tablespoon of vinegar in water rather than a capsule.

There is a separate and better-established line of work on vinegar and the glucose rise after a meal, which a meta-analysis of postprandial trials covers. It is a different question from body weight, it is measured at similar liquid volumes, and it is not a claim this bottle makes.

Beneath the panel the label prints its other-ingredients line: vegetable cellulose (capsule), rice flour, magnesium stearate, silicon dioxide. Four entries, and the first is the one worth reading.

The shell is vegetable cellulose. That is a plant-derived capsule, which puts this product inside a vegetarian diet without anybody having to write and ask. A great many capsules in this category are gelatin, which is not, and the difference is printed rather than implied.

Rice flour is the filler that brings a 1,060 mg fill up to a consistent capsule volume. Magnesium stearate and silicon dioxide are the flow agents that stop powder sticking to the tooling on a filling line. All three are ordinary, all three appear on most panels in the category, and none of them contributes anything a buyer is paying for.

One consequence is worth naming. Magnesium stearate is a magnesium salt of a fatty acid, and it is not a source of dietary magnesium in any meaningful amount. A reader scanning the line for minerals will find a word that looks like one and is not.

Five checks, none of which needs anything except the bottle and two minutes. They exist because the most common problem in this category is not a bad formula but a different one arriving under a familiar name.