Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Last night, I bought a Fitness Magazine because I ran out of time to speed-read it on line at the supermarket. The lead article, "Easy ways to... A FLAT BELLY" caught my eye. I am a slim person who has developed a pooch of late which looks enormous to me. I am used to being concave, so any other state of affairs is tantamount to waking up to find that someone has moved the furniture, or an alien has taken over my body.
When I was pregnant, I didn't look it. I only wore maternity clothes the third time, and she was my smallest baby. They don't make pregnancy outfits for my age group, so this is creating serious wardrobe problems. I may need to buy my dresses in camping stores soon. If the Coleman tent look is in, I'm not aware of it.
Today, I noticed the magazine, which I had already forgotten about, and took it to the launderette instead of "Possible Side Effects" by Augusten Burroughs, which is much more entertaining. I flipped through page after page of weight-loss ads cleverly disguised as articles until I found it. The page that would make my stomach flat again. Page 104. Belly- Flattening Routine.
And there they were -- exercises! Difficult-looking and doubtless extremely painful exercises with which to torture my body. I couldn't believe it. Who do they think I am, Denise Damn Austin or some limber yogini who never heard of ice cream? I really thought that just buying the magazine would do the trick. And maybe giving up a cookie a week or something. Everyone always says it's the thought that counts. What a rip-off. I've been had.
I noticed a new line of products in Sephora recently, Fat Girl Slim unguents made with caffeine which are rubbed on body fat. This is supposed to make it disappear instantly. Yeah, right. Still, I was intrigued. I got a sample. I rubbed it in. Except for a greenish tinge, my abs looked the same. (Can I even refer to them as "abs" if they are not lean, muscular, super-toned and reeking of steroids? I'm not sure if I am entitled to use that term. I should probably refer to my "mid section" or "abdominal area," just to be safe. My "gut." I don't want any super-fit workout Nazis working me over because I infringed on their word.)
I will keep rubbing until the sample runs out, but I've lost my faith. This morning I spilled strong coffee on myself and nothing happened, except to my keyboard. I didn't even get burned because my coffees are all blonds, way too much cream to do bodily harm other than going directly to my belly. Years ago, I took belly dance lessons but wasn't very good because I had no belly, and all the tassels, tiny bells and peacock feathers in the world could not change that. Be careful what you wish for.