Summer is coming and with it apparently the models.
At first I didn’t realise why the streets, coffee shops and restaurants were filled with stick insects sipping water and smoking furiously.
But then I heard it.
The models are coming…
Summer in Cape Town is filled with models on shoots making mere mortals such as myself feel decidedly chubby.
They arrive in their droves apparently, long limbed and starved, ready to soak up the sun and leave the rest of us to question our dieting habits.
My new naturopath must be advising them on their eating habits – or lack thereof.
Having announced that I was generally in good health – except for being a bit fat – she has put me on prisoneresque diet that if it doesn’t kill me will apparently allow me to lose 8kg – 1 stone 3 pounds if you prefer metric – which normally I would if the amounts were both so frightening.
I thought I flew all the way to Cape Town to find myself, but it appears all I have found so far is that I’m overweight.
Maybe with no beer, no wine, no bread I will at least be focussed enough to figure out what the next step in my continued unemployment will be.
Or more likely end up too weak to function and spend even more time on the beach?!
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