So, Brit Babes are officially the fatties of Europe. We top the obesity league with 23.9 per cent of British women grossly overweight (though the USA still has higher obesity rates).
I can remember 20 odd years ago, being on holiday in Florida and having my photo taken with an extremely broad-beamed American woman.
I was fascinated by how hefty the women were there and remarked that British women would never get that fat.
Whilst there, wherever we went to eat it was gigantic piggy portions – and it was all fast food, not a veggie in sight.
Now in 2011 we are fast catching up and food experts here in the UK blame fatty and sugary junk food and little or no exercise.
As a roly-poly myself who’s had to fight the flab all her life, I can only comment on why I have an excess of blubber. Comfort eating.
But I’m not the only one. Oodles of my girliepals do it. As soon as life goes on the skids, it’s puddy in the biccie jar.
My generation were brought up on healthy but occasionally stodgy food. Yummy fluffy suet dumplings in the stew, large dollops of bread ’n’ butter pud with lashings of custard, and fried bread.
Then there was ‘bread ’n’ scrape’, a delicious beef dripping slapped on doorsteps of bread. Mmmm.
But we ate loads of fresh veg and we walked everywhere.
Having been a dancer all my life (pre-twisted pelvis) and this year having Zumba’d off 30lbs of pudginess, I’m continually telling women to find an exercise they love and do it.
Ladies, don’t wait until you’re morbidly obese, as I was diagnosed, and with Type 2 diabetes.
Act NOW. Eat less, exercise more.
There’s an advert on the gogglebox that ends with ‘because you’re worth it’.
Aren’t you worth feeling and looking healthier?
My latest mantra, as my hand hovers over the biccie jar, ‘will this biscuit give me more pleasure than the joy of looking slimmer?’
I know what the answer is.