Four years ago the NHS told us that over half the female population was trying to lose weight so it’s hardly surprising that many millions are injecting themselves with fat jabs. But I refuse to pander to the notion that us women all need to be a size 10 so I shan’t be going anywhere near the jabs or dieting. If I feel like a piece of toast with blueberry jam, the odd crisp and a nibble of chocolate I am not going to feel fat or guilty about eating any of it. Who says we have to be so thin anyway?
Having what a nutritionist would call a sugar addiction for as long as I can remember (I’m partial to a bar of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut) my appetite for losing weight resembles the Yo Yo diet (the repeated cycle of losing weight through strict dieting, only to regain it shortly after) itself. I cannot bring myself to go on fat jabs as no amount of weight loss would warrant hair loss – a common side effect associated with Ozempic – not to mention the peculiar sensation of switching off one’s appetite and joie de vivre. I’ve even heard people forget to drink water on the jabs and don’t get me started on their distaste for wine. I know which version of myself I would prefer – she with a podgy tummy, double chin and lots of nice thick hair sipping a glass of Chardonnay. Sporting a washboard stomach, ‘Ozempic face’, balding patches, dehydration and sobriety just doesn’t appeal.
For those trying to lose weight, a veto on fat jabs can only mean one thing – a fad diet or two. The grapefruit diet is not as bad as it sounds; it involves eating a lot of protein and yes, grapefruits (three times a day). The Grapefruit Diet, like the Cabbage Soup Diet, is typically favoured by middle-aged mums who urgently need to lose half a stone before their daughter’s wedding. Though it might work, they tell me over a glass of Prosecco that they will never eat a grapefruit ever again and who can blame them. Like many Yo Yo dieters, all the weight they lost came back on in the following two weeks when normal consumption returned now the wedding is over.
The Rosemary Conley Hip and Thigh Diet was favoured by keep-fit mums in the 1980s who all started eating low-fat yoghurts and giving up eating red meat. To this day they still eye a steak with suspicion but don’t mind bingeing on sugary grapes. Diets have come a long way since Rosemary’s diet. Paleo dieters – those that favour protein and minimal carbs – preach quite the reverse to Rosemary. It can get a bit confusing but essentially sugar is a carbohydrate that must be avoided by the Paleo brigade. Paleo dieters frown at the low-fat dieters who are eating Ryvita for breakfast. You guessed it – their inferior breakfast contained not enough protein and too much sugar. The Paleo dieter’s breakfast is one of bacon and eggs, enough to give the Rosemary Conley aficionados a heart attack.
Rosemary Conley fans tend to be the types who might turn up on the school run in a crop top and shorts made from flimsy acrylic that Barbie’s Ken might have worn on a beach in Hawaii. Rosemary fans are quite toned but for some reason they don’t seem to mind having gone completely grey – I guess getting your hair done is too time consuming when you are ‘getting fit’. They are so focused on their regime that their hair takes a back seat. Fair enough.
Back to the boredom of diets. Cotswold housewives are all very keen on the Human Being Diet which is all about spacing out your – forgive the word – meals every seven hours. I don’t think this would work for me as I would struggle to eat a massive breakfast at 7am when all I really want is a cup of sugary tea and to bypass the ghastly school run. The thought of putting some sort of organised and healthy lunch into tupperware to consume after the school pick up would fill me with dread.
Imagine combining children who have lost their shoes in the park, want to take their heavy bike out of the back of the car and are having a post-school meltdown with the added insult of mummy eating a healthy snack on a park bench. Picture the scene: ‘wait, little Horace, mummy is doing a diet that requires stuffing inordinate amounts of lamb’s lettuce, avocado and turkey breast into her mouth with a dressing that took 19 minutes to prepare’. It has the potential to be up there with the swimming party in Motherland.
Given the faff (and cost) of buying all of these far flung and exotic ingredients (sesame oil not olive oil, rice vinegar and not white wine vinegar etc.) it’s no wonder that millions of people have turned to fat jabs to switch off their appetites and dull diet requirements not to mention exercise. Does anyone really have an hour a day to work out? I certainly don’t. These diets sound like a full-time job and require as much commitment as raising children.
I’ll be sticking to podgy tummies and dinner lady arms until someone can bring me all my Paleo meals on a plate and time it when I am no longer doing school runs. If, in eleven years time, you see a slimline version of yours truly, you’ll know that Bourbon biscuits and bikes in the park are now a thing of the past. Hopefully I’ll still be chugging the wine and chocolate with blonde highlights in my hair.
Comments