I THINK it was a vacuous - albeit beautiful - supermodel with a drug habit and a penchant for lettuce leaves who once said “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”.
Well I’m here to tell you she was wrong - in just two words.
You see, the past couple of weeks have seen me taking stock of some things in my life, mostly things that do not fit me anymore.
I can no longer blame my dryer for ‘shrinking’ my clothes.
And the ‘baby weight’ excuse has worn thin following my daughter’s seventh birthday.
I need to lose some kilos, if only to avoid having to buy new clothes from the circus tent shop.
The thing is, I despise exercise.
And this, coupled with an undying love for jam donuts, is what’s making my transition from Babe to babe all the trickier.
I’d love to have the dedication – and the salary – of a Biggest Loser trainer.
I’d love to spring out of bed before dawn and hit the gym in my lycra hotpants and neon headband.
The truth is, I’m quite happy with the way I look, and I’ve never thought you had to be thin to be beautiful.
It’s just a shame fashion designers don’t feel the same.
If I have to bypass a stylish, cutting-edge suit in favour of a plus-sized hessian sack one more time simply because shops don’t seem to see the need to stock clothes which fit the national average, I think I will scream.
And head to Krispy Kreme.
But seriously, you have been warned.
I’m giving the jam donuts away and will be hitting the walk trails around my neighbourhood.
I won’t be hard to miss – I will be the very grumpy one in neon sweats.
Let’s hope it works.
Otherwise I will be just another cautionary whale.