Come the first of January everytime you pick up a magazine or turn on TV, the slick looking image is always the same. A bone-thin woman consumed by happiness because she just dropped fifty pounds and can no longer fit into a pair of pants that would hold a small village.
Personally I have never met such a woman nor is she anyone I would ever know. My friends who talk about dieting aren’t into actually losing pounds, they’re just “toning up” so their panty hose (yes, there are women of a certain age who still wear them)won’t constrict.
Wonder if anyone has ever conducted a survey to find out just what size woman men prefer. It could be that all this hype directed at thunder thighs, Jack Spratt’s wife (oh, come on, you remember her), dimpled dumplins’ and nice little rounded mothers of three, is totally wasted.
Nowhere is it written in stone that thin women are more desirable. They simply look better in swimsuits. You know the ones, hi-cut, brief, revealing (suits that is) – how important is that?
The whole issue is a bummer. Just mentioning words like calories, weight control or CELLULITE can take the fun out of eating and ruin perfectly good party conversation.
New Year’s resolutions are a sham. It’s always the same. Dieters are either talking about the diet they have just been on, the one they are suffering through, or one they are going to start next week. Interpretation: I lost five pounds on my last diet, rewarded myself by overeating and gained ten pounds and now I’m looking for a diet to help me take off the extra weight I gained back.
How counter productive is that!