On Friday I had my first weigh in and disappointment did not ensue…in 5 weeks I managed to lose 6 kilos, which I think is fab. I was convinced I hadn’t lost anything and was about to quit, and then lo and behold, results!

‘Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels…’ is a quote from Kate Moss, which I always thought was the most awful and destructive view of one’s relationship to food that anyone could have. However, in a weird kind of way, I understand.

Let’s get a few things straight:

1. I say I understand, but I am not saying I’m skinny. I’m not, I never will be. And that does not particularly bother me.

2. The battery of my scales at home is dead. I have left it that way for 6 months. I am not one of those women whose happiness depends on the number shown above her toes. I never have been. I generally think women who care too much about that number are frivolous with nothing real to worry about in their lives, or nothing better to occupy their silly little heads.

Until Friday. The day I understood. I totally get it now. And I’m taking this chance to apologise for my judgement.

For when I stepped upon the scale and my ironically-named nutritionist (Chip) announced my 6kg weight-loss, I felt nothing short of euphoria. I think I may have let out a squeal of delight. My fried- potato named diet coach asked quizzically ‘Didn’t you weigh yourself?’ No, Pommes-frites, I have not. I don’t weigh myself. But this little number certainly made my day. I have seen the light. Those few digits made me want to go dancing in the street.

And then this little thought creeps into my head: just imagine the opposite. The awful feeling if I gain.

And dear God, I really feel like something amazing and cheesy. I was in Amsterdam 2 weeks ago and I cheated a little with this delicious focaccia:


But I know that it was a one off. It was a delicious one off, but it was precisely that.

Nothing is worth having if it comes easy. That is my mantra.

Have a nice day, y’all.