Let’s talk Hollywood poundage. I know, no one’s ever discussed that before.
But if I ate an egg-white omelette (yuck, by the way) every time a Hollywood star merrily claims they never diet / lost their babyweight running round after their currently-immobile baby I’d be as skinny as them (and probably massively constipated, but let’s not go there).
I genuinely don’t care what size you are, Hollywood ladies. In fact the bigger the better so if I eventually bump into any of you and demand a selfie I’ll look thinner by comparison.
Just please stop claiming:
1, That you lost your baby weight “running round after the kids”. Even once they’re mobile, unless your child is Usain Bolt, running round after a small child will burn up a fraction of the calories you’ll then consume comfort-eating away the misery of seeing your arch-rival winning the Best Actress Oscar while wearing three lace hankies and a thong held together by a jewelled Swarovski safety pin, and thanking your ex from the podium through a veil of crystal tears.
2, That you “love your curves” when you’re teeny tiny with a boob job. Yes go ahead, love them. I would, especially if they’d cost me £5k. I was once a curvy size 14 (possibly a size 16 but I’d cut the labels out by that point) and though I loved some of my curves (the boob ones, basically) some of them were fucking annoying and got in the way.
3, That you love pizza and eat it all the time. Okay let’s split this one in two (which I never do with pizza by the way. That extra-large four-cheese beauty is all mine and get your fucking paws off my Ben & Jerry’s as well). You may indeed love pizza. Who doesn’t? But you don’t eat it all the time unless they do a pizza-and-egg-white omelette at the LA Ivy.
4, You never weigh yourself, and you just have that favourite pair of jeans and when they get a bit tight it’s time to cut down. Hahahahahahah. And once more with feeling, hahahahahaha. Oops I’ve popped my jeans button. Hang on. Okay I’m back. We all know you’ll weigh yourselves every time you see some scales, even if they’re for sale in a shop window and that means taking all your clothes off first. (This is why women take so long in the bathroom btw. We’ve spied some scales in the corner so we have to strip off literally everything, including hair bobbles, then weigh ourselves, then cry. Then we come downstairs and say sorrowfully, doing that headshake thing, “you know, your scales really overweigh, you should get them looked at”)
Please, be like Liz Hurley. The reason we love her – even though she has form for going to other women’s weddings wearing dresses that flash her leopard print knickers – is because she admits that for her work she has to look a million dollars in her bikinis so she works out like a demon and doesn’t eat pies.