The Perfect Diet

I have run from many things in my life.

Bad hairdressers, wearing tulip skirts, dodgy school dinners, electric blue eyeliner (really doesn’t look great on anyone, even a supermodel!) and of course the odd bad boy or two; but today, I speak to you as a fugitive from the scariest institute known to the wonderful world of food,

'A Slimming Club's New Joiners Session'

Actually I'm a proxy fugitive, as I only came along to give some moral support to A, who announced she was joining a slimming club as we tucked into a steak and salad lunch.

I responded that I had to come along, just in case the group leader was a Little Britain Marjorie Dawes clone and of course to satisfy my own sense of mischief.

Not mischief making against the brave ladies who had decided to fine tune their bodies into well, slighter better versions of what they already have.

No, I am talking about witnessing the workings of a 'cult', that sows the seed in you, that grows and ‘makes’ you redefne your entire food intake in the currency of points.

Come on, let's be honest how boring is that?

I'm not what you call 'a Skinnie Minnie', I'd say I'm more
a 'Boootyilicious BB'.

I eat what I like and my only concession to staying slim is to move around a lot all day, so my food doesn't morph my stomach and bum into a full eclipse!

We were right on track until we stood queuing to get in to the session.

While I noticed we were by far the skinniest ladies in the room, A noticed the rather smug weight loss leader, eyeing up her new congregation with all the hunger of hyena relishing the prospect of eating its prey.

She turned to me and said in semi-dramatic fashion,

"I just can't do it!"

"For real?" I said smirking.

"Yes",she replied gravely.

"Let's go. I want to go. I want to go now!"

"Excuse us, she's changed her mind"

I said loudly, ushering A past the snake line of ladies queuing up behind us.

"What shall we do now?"

I said, having made A collapse into a giggling fit, first by doing a brilliant impression of her ‘diet break’ and then by showing her just how us catwalk models (which is effectively what we were at the club!) can strut even while in a gym car park, in a pair of trainers. I know, how totally glam of me !

"What about Eton Mess and a latte?"

We practically skipped to the restaurant, first securing ourselves a comfortable people watching slot, then congratulating ourselves for being 'dangerous diet rebels' !.

"Suppose it back to Zumba and running"

A said, shovelling a spoonful of meringue and cream, so enthusiastically that the cream exploded on either side of her mouth.

We both fell about laughing and reminded me of just why she's my BF !

I'm all for nurturing beautiful minds and working at having a healthy, fit body, but the idea of denying yourself food seems incredibly harsh. I say eat what you want, but just move around a little bit more.

Now that's what I call a perfect diet !