So, I decided to strip several much-needed pounds off my already skinny ass and I still did not get my picture in the paper.
My then-boyfriend’s boss had bought a table at a $1000 a plate charity event in Detroit, and I was invited to go. Thrillingly, I made one of the all-time-great TJ Maxx finds: An Armani cocktail dress–$60, but a size 2. At 5’10’, I looked plenty thin in a size 4, but BY GOD, I was wearing that dress.
In the week that remained leading up to the event, I ate no more than 1000 calories a day with no salt, and drank 8-10 glasses of water. On the day of, I traded 8 glasses of water for 2 cups of coffee, thereby draining my body of useless fluids… I don’t know how much weight I lost, but I was able to go from “zipper not connecting” to “zipper closing” in that time.
The dress looked beautiful. It had an outer velvet layer, draped all loose with a deep wraparound that flipped open when I walked, flashing a shimmery contrasting lining and of course the thigh-high sheathed leg. On the INSIDE, it had an invisible boned corset that was crushing my organs and would not allow me to inhale all the way. As a lifelong asthma sufferer, it was on par with being buried alive. It was the MRI gantry of dresses. Only the solace of my immense vanity kept me from having multiple panic attacks.
AND, the Free Press decided to cover a $500 a plate function elsewhere, so I didn’t get to photo bomb any Detroit VIPs in “On the Town.”
I didn’t tell anyone what I had done. I have kept my silence until now! Crash dieting is for chumps! You are supposed to buy clothes that fit! Now I can’t judge models who dehydrate themselves for Victoria’s Secret. Those models say,
“At least we’re being paid! At least someone wants to take our picture!”
Footnote: I was still able to finish the steak. Organs be damned.