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Michelle Lovato: The ‘How to Look Like a Movie Star Diet’

Posted: December 25, 2008 3:22 p.m.
Updated: December 26, 2008 4:55 a.m.
My favorite button-up blouse betrayed me on Christmas morning me and spit what was once a delicately located button into the mirror and back at my face.

It was my favorite shirt; now it just taunts me like an ex-boyfriend clinging to a young Hollywood starlet hell-bent on making her career.

When I was young it was stylish to have tight clothes.

Remember when lying on your back to zip your jeans was the ultimate act of fashion sense?

Funny thing. I still do the same thing. But now it's just a source of stifled laughter from my husband, Mr. Sensitive, who has absolutely no room to talk about waist size.

Actually, I really have to stick up for my man. My husband Vince is one of those good husbands who doesn't look at other women in my presence. Mr. Creative says he keeps his eyes straight ahead out of respect for his precious wife.

But I can attest to a long and negative stimulus-campaign Mr. Ogle Eyes underwent in the first part of our blessed marital union.

He better say I'm precious.

That campaign did wonders for our marriage. And Valentino is the smoothest dude in town when it comes to my inevitable aging issues.

"Oh, honey. I don't see what other people see," he claims. "I Photoshop you into whatever I want."

Should I be offended?

One would think after all that power-wrapping I did just before dawn Christmas morning that I wouldn't have a weight problem. I did, after all, work up a sweat.

But my coat won't fit, my feet are swollen and my pants are pushing up so many flesh tires I could float to Hawaii.

Time to break out the mega moo-moo.

When I was a little girl growing up in Diamond Bar, my grandmother used to tell me a horrifying story about how she spun around fast one day and everything on her top dropped to the back of her bottom.

Okay. That pretty much freaked me out back then. But, boy oh boy. I can relate now. That's it! Genetics.

It was all the twisting I did trying to get Christmas cookies from the platter on the counter behind me.

Yeah. Yeah. That's the ticket.

Well, I've decided to cease feeling sorry for my dilemma and take action so I've developed what I call The Middle Aged Woman's How To Look Like A Movie Star Diet.

Step One: Pray you have a zero-balance credit card. This is going to get expensive.

Step Two: Stuff yourself into your clothes until you look like a pillow with a belt on. Breathe.

Step Three: Find a mirror.

By the way ... I've decided that God did not invent mirrors because God is not cruel. I don't know how Biblical this theory may be, but I think God was happy with pools of reflective water and plain old ignorance.

It was man who said, "Honey. You might want to take a look at this."

And the 90-degree mirror? Well, that's just the work of the devil.

But don't get me started on mirrors. It's no wonder Mervyn's went out of business putting such unflattering mirrors in their dressing rooms. But I digress.

Step Four: Throw away the mirror. Put on your moo moo and head for one of those underwear stores that sell what I affectionately refer to as full-body armor.

Now, if you're familiar with the term "push," that is exactly what you will be doing.

First find some ortho-hose. They're made in plastic forms so you just choose the legs you want to have and pour your flesh into the molds.

Don't be alarmed as you may see an increase in roundage push up toward your Canadian border, but don't panic. Fashion science has remedied this problem.

Grab one of those body girdles on the rack that appear to be standing on their own. These little beauties are often made with metal bars stitched into the seams so as to convince stubborn body parts unwilling to relocate that you mean ultimate business.

Proceed with your mission by forcing the "waist maker" into proper position. You may find a bit of excess ploppage is begging to flee through the North Pole but relax. There's a turtleneck for sale in every store these days.

And if you don't like turtlenecks, get mad at your husband and say: "You like football player's necks, don't you? Photoshop this."

All this effort will result in the illusion you lost 2.5 pounds and it might just help you out with your nagging posture problem.

Now is that worth it?

Michelle Lovato is a Signal staff writer. Her column reflects her own views and not necessarily those of The Signal.


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