I thought it might be an idea to pop up on here and explain a
bit about the book, since it's an unusual one - a diet book that tells you
jokes, gives you genuinely delicious recipes, and lets you into our heads
as well as our stomachs.
Basically, my friend Neris and I got fat. Really fat, like size 22. And one
day we finally decided to do something about it.
So we went and found out about diets, about what worked and what didn't; we
cherry-picked, we fiddled about - we wanted, for instance, to eventually be
able to drink and to have the odd piece of chocolate - and, armed with our
own version of a high-protein, low-carb diet, away we went.
It worked: we lost five stone each in a year, and we haven't put any of it
back on. So we thought we'd write about how we'd done it, in blow-by-blow
detail, charting the emotional ups and downs, providing recipes, and all
sorts of other stuff we found useful, like trying to unravel the reasons
behind our overeating. I'll bet you a roast potato they're the reasons you
overeat, too. We think unravelling them is crucial if you're going to keep
the weight off.
We also thought - completely insanely, in retrospect - that we should be
photographed wearing leotards and tights at every stage of the diet, and
leave the pictures absolutely un-retouched, so readers could see for
themselves that it really works. The pictures - they're really quite grim -
are all in there. So that's something to look forward to.
The other thing we really wanted to do was to write a diet book for real
people - people like us, with kids, jobs, dogs and the rest, who didn't
have the time or the energy to cook themselves separate meals, or to sit
miserably in the corner with a lettuce leaf. People who actually had a
life, liked going out, went to the pub - and who wanted to carry on with
all of these things while dieting.
Above all, we wanted to write a diet book that started off from a place of
love. We are so sick of women being made to feel terrible about the way
they look. During our research, we came across a pile of diet books - many,
though not all, written by middle-aged blokes - whose basic premise was
'You're a fat freak and you're killing yourself'. That approach - see also
'your insides are like sewers,' naming no names - is appalling. We start
off with the premise that you're pretty fabulous, and that you're going to
be even MORE fabulous when you slip into that tiny little dress you thought
you'd never in a million years fit into. It's not about body fascism: we're
not interested in dropping from a size 12 to a size 2. But from a 22 to a
14? Yes please.
We're really, really pleased with the way the book has turned out. If
you're at that stage where you think, 'You know what? Sod it. I'll just
stay this size and avoid full-length mirrors,' then please buy it. We've so
been there. Plus we're busy, greedy and undisciplined. We did it none the
less. You can too.
--This text refers to an alternate