Open letter to girl by the pool.

Dear girl at the poolside,

I'm sorry for storming gung-ho into the conversation you were having with your friends just now. Even as I sat down and said 'do you mind if I cut in here' I could hear the unspoken question who is this crazy bitch and what does she want hanging in the air- and judging by the way you were hiding behind those enormous rhinestone sunglasses you had no better idea of how to make me go away than your friends did.

It's just that after lying on the bleacher above you for the past half hour listening to your friends trying to persuade you to cut all the carbohydrates  and protein out of your diet for the next two weeks I wasn't able to make myself quietly leave. Their idea that you should get a boyfriend and have sex with all the lights on so you could 'see exactly what you looked like' as motivation made my stomach curl. And by the time your protest about how such an extreme crash of a diet  might affect your study was overruled with the suggestion that 'every time you feel tired or bored or want to eat something just go work out instead', I was past the point of just shaking my head at you from several feet away.

I suppose it's not really a coincidence that a country where the heat leaves most people wandering about with a lot of flesh on show has introduced me to firstly some of the most buffed-up and toned body types I've ever seen in my life; and secondly to the most incredible wealth of eating disorders. I've seen it particularly among the girls. I have one friend who seems to exist almost entirely on raw spinach, and on the occasions she decides she's feeling fat simply stops eating for forty-eight hours. I've been on cardio machines next to girls who could take someone's eye out with their vertebrae, and who, when you look over at their dashboard, have been running for the past hour and a half and apparently have no intention of stopping any time soon. It disturbs me that the ruthlessness with which people scrutinize their physical appearance is becoming so much more of a norm; that society has reached a place where people can find so much wrong with their bodies; and especially that the culling of some of the most significant food groups can be experimented with and talked about so casually between 'friends'.

So when, as your pal in the dental floss bikini was saying 'just do it, just make the call and say you'll do it and then we'll all help you power through', I suddenly sat down in front of you and embarked on a rant about how shit trying to go without carbohydrate and protein would make you feel, I wasn't trying to be overbearing. I just wanted to let you know that, even as your friends, sisters, whoever they were, did everything they could to push you into a 'health' regime you seemed less than keen to embark on, there were still some people who would rather champion you looking after yourself. I'm sorry for being less than polite when one of them lowered her sunglasses and pouted "excuse me, but this is for a SPORT. We know what we're talking about.", but there's really no sport which justifies a diet of pure salad. If you- and I mean you, not your friends- really want to lose weight then eat a little less and exercise a little more. But lettuce, and only lettuce is never the answer... and for what it's worth, you seemed a perfectly healthy weight to me. And your friends seemed like a bunch of idiots.

Once I'd gone stamping away it's possible everyone shrieked with laughter and relaunched the campaign to get you shedding those pounds. Perhaps even now you're bouncing unhappily on top of some strange boy with all the lights on, or frantically cross-training in the RSF. But you did peep over the top of your sunglasses and mouth 'thank you' as I flounced haughtily back to the changing rooms in my *slightly saggy* bikini bottoms. So I'm going to hope you decided to be kind to yourself.


xXx