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What do they say, be careful what you wish for? Hmm, what I was I saying about having to join the SG Biggest Loser (got the spelling right this time though!) Well I just have, but it’s not for the Island, it’s a work thing. Four boys and me. What’s wrong with this picture?
I'll tell you what’s wrong with this picture, when I got back from Australia I walked into my reflexology centre and the hostess asked me if I’m pregnant? Ok, I will admit after a super indulgent December, no exercise because of my Faithless Knee incident and way too many trucky meals, I may have put on a few pounds over the silly season. But was this lady seeing something I wasn’t? I tutted, “no of course not, I’ve just had a very big lunch” and just like that, my petals went a lighter shade of crimson. Ouch. I put my ipod on for the hour that I lay there in denial.
I have this wonderful helper called Chat. She’s about 5 foot nothing, and has this incessant habit of practically humping me with excitement when she comes into my condo – this is her Philippino ritual greeting. It’s quite gorgeous and so is she, but it makes me get the giggles and I promise you, her face really only comes up to my navel, so it’s an unusual connection of bodies. Chat is a very direct woman, it’s probably why I have her here, very honest and a good Christian. Last Friday, it was the first time we'd crossed paths for a while and she said to me, after the hump, “Madam, Madam, (she normally goes in with the you look wonderful or happy, or fantastic, except for when I had really bad red hair, she certainly let me know that one)… madam, you’ve put on weight, are you pregnant, but with no baby!”. She laughed uncontrollably, and started to poke me, thinking it was hilarious.
“Well good morning to you too!”. I wasn’t laughing anymore, and she got a quick instruction on the washing details. Oh dear, I thought I looked particularly hot that morning. I had my True Religion Jeans on, which are a winner every time, sexy high heels, a little black top and a scarf, flowing (new) blonder lochs, and I felt rocking…. Well I did. There is nothing like a bit of honesty at 8am on a Friday.
The other side of this phantom pregnancy is a love my curves. I have an eight-foot mirror in my boudoir; it’s very French and leans against the wall, next to the window. It’s a magnificent feature that I it had made just for me, my fashion parade and night one as well. I have thankfully come to a point in my life when I’m accepting me as me – you know, “love me, love my bits”, I often say. I feel really good about myself. If the mirror is looking back at me saying, “you’re looking a little more in bloom Flowers”, that says to me “Bottecelli, The birth of Venus”, sexy women that were just meant to get nude, pose for the artist and be loved for centuries to come (even if in an oversized scallop shell). Do you know what I mean? It’s good to be happy with yourself, feel comfortable in your own skin even if you’re not the size you were when… when ever.
I’ve stood outside the Uffizi Gallery in Tuscany just staring at those magnificent erections of Italian icons, standing there in all their naked glory. Half of them don’t have willies any more, so there is no erecting literally, but they are just stunning figures. The Adonis Hercules and Nisus the Centaur, Apollo From Omphalos, Raphael, Michelangelo. I’m sure this is how men were really built, that or there was a “paint brushing” instead of “air brushing” in those days too, or may less carbs, but regardless, they did mankind proud. I love the male torso; it is so fine, so fine. I stood there for an hour one day, just watching them. I’m sure one of them moved and winked at me. Probably more like the tricks of the “Magic eye” book more than anything else. But it would have been nice. Note to self; don’t stare Flowers.
I have a set of four nudes on my wall in my bedroom also; my Granny JoJo sketched them in the Blitz in World War II. They are marvellous, a cherished gift from my mother Gaysie and one I will hand down to my daughters. The woman isn’t dainty or small, she is broader, slight tummy, but in form and athletic like I am. I absolutely love them, and as I’m a massive advocate for nudity in general, as I’m writing this, it makes me think about all the times I’ve been uncovered. (Evil laugh, Glover!)
I had a dinner party with my mates Jerome, Nick, Kimberly and KT one winter’s night in London. It was during the feast of Jimmy’s Launchershire Hotpot and about 6 bottles of red when the conversation turned to talk of the male body and what it presented naked, when Kimberley blurted out that she thought sometimes men were repressed. Instantly a good red wine debate kicked off and Jerome flippantly said, “well come on, get your kit off and let’s prove we’re not!” I nipped out to the ladies and when I came back my table was laced, full of banter, with naked people! Who was I not to join in?
It was like we were in the 1960’s high on sexual revolution. The boys were making penis puppets with the candle light on the wall, all of us taking a run up and sky diving, even body slamming each other onto my bed (I lived in a massive open space studio style apartment in London at the time) and then simply sat around drinking copious amounts of red wine, talking shit about god knows what, all starkers! It was brilliant, an impromptu naked dinner party, who would have thought when I was shopping at the Borough Market that afternoon I’d be brushing off my birthday suit? The funniest thing was, there was absolutely nothing sexual about this and as the clock struck 12, just like Cinda, every one bailed, fully clothed and that was that. It was a jolly good show.
People talk, and of course we did. We thought it was hilarious and word spread. I became famous for naked dinner parties. Before I knew it, I had people requesting another dinner party. You could always tell who were the devo’s in my group, especially my darling Italian friend Livio, who was always badgering me in the hours past midnight, “Flowers, when are we coming over for dinner…”. It wasn’t going to work that way, the special ingredient for those magic nights is spontaneity… and I wasn’t about forced undress either, it had to come from a place of freedom and the right energy in the room, gosh I’m sounding very hippy now, but it’s got to be natural, or after 3 bottles of good plonk, or nowadays, 5 martini’s! I’m sure we were not the first to do this. Mum?
A few years ago, I was a bridesmaid for one of my dearest friends Kimberley and funnily enough, our friendship started with nuding up together. We met in 1997 on Koh Phi Phi Island in Thailand. She, with her now husband Marcus, and I was with Mike. Mike and Marcus went to school together, so it was a reunion. We were all playing in the shallows of the bay, drinking, laughing, cavorting and by the time we had drank our mini bar fridge dry it was 9 pm and time to play “Hands, Scissors, Rock” to see who would go up to the bar naked and buy more beers in the packed “Charlie’s Back Packers Bar” down the beach. We were 23, fit and still kids. I’ll set the scene; Marcus 6Ft 5 rugby player – bronzed, big “cough”; Kimberley 5 ft 8, with the best “Big M” tits you’ve ever seen – bronzed with a big bush; Mike 5 ft 9, fit and bronzed; Moi, 5 ft 11, a weird combo of white and red, athletic, white boobies and big bush. It was vogue in those days, every one had a big bush; it was what you did back then. Men and women.
I lost, “Yes of course you did”, you might say. Unwilling to go it alone, I made Marcus and his big “cough” strut up to the bar with our Baht behind our ears and request “4 long necks of Tiger please”, spoken in his very deepest voice, I think that’s what men do when they want or “need” to be more manly! Kimberley and Mike hid in the bushes. Within moments some guy came up to us all in owe of our state of undress and said “you’ve gotta be Aostrawleyian!!!” The next thing I knew, Kimberley and Mike were out of the bush, and were all arm in arm, celebrating the fact that we were bonkers, with a bunch of fully dressed back packers having photo’s taken. Utter madness, but not.
The greatest thing about this rig of mine is, sure I can whack on a few pounds with over indulgence, but with a little focus and bit of exercise I can generally lose weight pretty quickly thank god. My mate Tim however has also been a saviour. We have such a laugh at work, so I shared my stories of the Chat episode and the second “you could be pregnant” comment, and after he’d rolled around in fits of laughter, nice, he told me there was a new “Biggest Loser” competition going on and should get on board.
Tick! The competition is to lose 10 pounds before Chinese New Year, and then another 10 pounds before Easter. Yeah, I love a competition, so I signed up. Ohh Good God Maria – honk honk, I weighted in at 182.3 pounds. Yikes… oh that sound of the semi trailer backing up again. Righto, there was a plan to be hatched, off to the gym, playing squash, playing tennis, some golf swings, eating good food, staying off the booze mid week, sticking to white spirits (not hard for me and the love “The Goose”) and a little trip booked and that would just about do it.
This move has been taxing on the old girl, I must admit. I chose not to take more leave whilst in Australia at Christmas so I could have some me time; down time to detox and unwind after what was a pretty stressful year. I’m off to Ubud, Bali to a health retreat at the end of this month. I have to let you know, this is not for the faint hearted. It’s a full detox, fasting and colonic’s, which will garantee the “au revoir” of at least 8-10 pounds in this one week. Yes, that means I’m not eating for week. Most think I’m a complete loon being such a foodie, but I’ve done this before, and yes, whilst it’s a spin out for the first day and your mind has a little spasm of “fuck can I do this?” - then it’s a bit like sex for the first time, a mass of anxiety at first, but then what comes thereafter is so much pleasure. It’s amazing the effect it has on you. I can’t wait to go; it’s going to be just what the doctor and scales asked for. I shall warn you now, there will most likely be some fascinating, out of the ordinary blogs posted that week. I’ll spare you the photos. Have a look it is going to be glorious.
http://ubudsari.com/
We had our second weigh-in this Monday and I lost 4 pounds! Yeah baby. I am nearly half way there and ahead of the boys but 2 pounds. I’ve been back at the gym daily, and all the rest of my sports, so I’m absolutely motivated to be back in my fight weight within no time. The other side is a thought of what I will actually look like having shed 20 pounds? I think I’ll slightly miss Botticelli; speaking of which, I have a massive scallop shell in one of my pools at the condo, very Venus like. I’ve been itching to take my petals off for a dip one starry-night, looks like I better do that soon then.
As Livi sang, “Let’s get physical”
I think this video was band in the UK because it offended fat people. Great track though. Have a listen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VQXECBdPgEA
The other side of this is it’s good to have some balance and I do feel like I’ve lost some weight and I can’t say it doesn’t make me feel good. I’m having a dinner party this week end and I can promise you there will be no nudity and I will go easy on reaching high for the horn, no truck driving through this DP. So Mr Doobie, what will the mirror tell me tomorrow, or next Monday, or after Ubud? Either way, good god Maria, there will be no “oh Jesus” from any Locals, hopefully more like a double take when I walk through the doors in my sparkling gown to the "Crystal Ball" on the 5th February; an event to raise money for the Cambodian Children’s Trust. “Oh la la”. Either way, I’m still smiling at the mirror.
http://www.cambodianchildrenstrust.org/
The other side one might argue, is to know when to find the stop button before you get to the position you’re joining a Biggest Loser competition.
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Food for thought. But of course!
Fleur
TBS
**Will keep you posted on the progress.
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