The Calorie Chronicles: Weight Watchers

It was late 80's, early 90's ish when Sarah Ferguson, Duchess and then former Duchess of York paraded across our television screens in some sleek outfit, struck a pose, tossed that fiery red hair aside and proclaimed, in the most confident way & British way possible, "I did it, and so can you. With Weight Wotches."

To Fergie's right was a Before picture. She was post-pregnancy, some 60 plus pounds heavier, and wearing a horrific floral dress. Hidden under a straw hat and gigantic sunglasses, her ghostly complexion glared forth. The whole nine yards of it.

Real live Fergie was nothing like that picture. She was trim, she was elegant, she was a size six. At least.

Weight Watchers was my first official diet program. I was 15. Looking back, it wasn't a necessity being on this program, since I was only a size ten; it was vanity. That huge vice had finally caught up with me. I had been away from the modeling schedule for a couple of years at this point and, as expected, put on some weight. I didn't have Salmon to bark at me, but I did have Carlotta Antonioli flaunting her ruffle of a kilt, stick legs, and pouty lips fresh from various senior blowjobs.

In fact I had lots of girls around me, showing off, flirting, enjoying their bodies and just being girls. I had a kilt on too, at a modest length and when I look at pictures from those days, I looked good in it. Still, I wanted more.

I wanted to be super skinny. Super bad.

Now, that's not reason enough. Then, it was. I joined Weight Watchers.

I am not familiar with the Weight Watchers program today, but I'm sure it's not the same as the Weight Watchers of days past. I don't remember much, including my start or end weight on the program. Here's what I do remember, though: 1200 calories per day, every day, mostly in the form of proteins and vegetables. Mostly vegetables.

I only really followed the Weight Watchers regime for a few weeks, and my most vivid memory of the whole thing involved the day I came home late from school, and still had the six servings of vegetables requirement to down.

I was starving, and I wasn't prepared. Opened up the fridge and the only thing available was a bag of spinach, so, I took it out, chopped like mad, boiled the whole lot and dumped it onto a plate.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. When I sat at the table and eyed the six-cup mountain of boiled, flavourless spinach in front of me, I knew it was a bad, bad idea. No insult to Popeye, but this just wouldn't do.

I took one bite. I took another bite. I emptied the plate into a tupperware container, threw it in the fridge, and made myself a sandwich.

That was the Beginning of the End for Weight Watchers and me. There was high school to be experienced, and that didn't include three raw carrots in my lunch bag each and every day.

And, to be honest, I didn't really care. That much was evident and it still is, since its taken me even this long to even scrape up what few memories of the ordeal I have left. Maybe I just didn't care because there was need to care. Or, maybe I just wasn't ready to face myself as a fat girl.

Maybe I just wasn't a fat girl.

I may not recall my beginning and end numbers on Weight Watchers, but I do know the total of pounds lost. Seven. Hardly a dent.

I like to think that even if something didn't work for me, or I didn't stick with it, that I did manage to at least learn something. So, what did I learn from this?

Creativity. Woman cannot live on spinach alone.