A Poem for Slimmers

LOSING WEIGHT: A WARNING!

This ode is for all those who want to lose weight,

Who think once they’re slim they will feel really great,

When they fasten their jeans without even a grunt

And look like a profile when viewed from the front.

Well, life ain’t so easy, just take it from me.

Losing weight isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

And in case you think slimming has made me go funny,

I’ll boil it all down to the single word: money!

That tubular dress that so curvily slunk

Round your body now looks like an elephant’s trunk

As it wrinkles round hips that are no longer there

And reveals a cleavage that’s vanished somewhere,

Those tight, sexy trousers that once fitted snugly

Now hang like a sack and look baggy and ugly

And dear, oh dear, that favourite dress

Makes you look like you’re pregnant, with triplets no less.

You put on your shorts, and down the things drop.

It would take several boob jobs to fill up your top

And the knobbly legs that project from your hem

Look like old-fashioned walking sticks used by old men.

By now, choking sobs, you’re assembling a heap

Of clothes that are headed for Oxfam next week.

Then a small, sneaky voices whispers right in your ear,

“You need to go shopping now, don’t you, my dear?”

Here’s some pants that you like, so you reach for the rack.

From size 18 and 16 you pull your hand back.

“Could I be a 14?” you wonder in joy.

You’ve not been that size since you snogged your first boy.

But glory, oh glory, they fit like a dream.

You admire your taut buns in your new skinny jeans.

From New Look to Top Shop, from Hennes to Fenwick

Your credit card’s flashed and you don’t give a pfennig.

You’re feeling so good on your scrimping new diet

And the exercise routines you do on the quiet

That at first you don’t notice – then suddenly do:

All those new outfits look awful on you!

You must be size 12 now, or even size 10.

But you just can’t afford to go shopping again…

You’re in a dilemma, till that voice in your ear,

Whispers, “Chocolate, Chardonnay, biscuits and beer!”

And this is why slimmers fall right off the wagon

Into chocolate fountains and wine by the flagon.

We know that obesity might make us ill

But we’d rather face that than the credit card bill.

(By Lorna Read, who is currently somewhere between 10 and 16 and

wishes it was her age, not her weight)