Dear Boots Health & Beauty Magazine May/June
Thanks for asking
Has my first BBQ got me fretting about putting on THOSE summer shorts?
It’s kind of you to ask, but I’m not sure which summer shorts you are referring to. Is it the denim pair?
If yes, I might be wrong but I’m not sure a BBQ would render me constantly and visibly anxious about putting them on. I hope you don’t think me arrogant.
Thanks for understanding
You ask if I am worried about my tummy looking bloated in a bikini and then you address a part of my body directly we’re looking at you, pot belly!.
Are you trying to tell me something, Boots?
Thanks for the permission
You declare enough of beating yourself up. I was just about to stop, I really was but then you suggested that I dig out a photo of myself that was taken when I was happy with my body. It’s confusing, Boots, to know what to think.
You suggest I lavish time on an area I love and then I’ll worry less about the bits I don’t. Before I had chance to worry less, I got sidetracked by the following statement in a feature about weight loss and temptation when THAT brie starts whispering, ‘eat me’.
THAT Brie? Which Brie? If I showed you the two I have in the fridge, could you point it out?
Perhaps you should address the whispering cheese, now that we know it communicates, instead of my suspected pot belly?
Thanks for calming me down
You tell me to keep calm and love my hair. After finding out about my pot belly and the whispering cheese, I do need to calm down. So thanks for the reminder and for the additional point about loving my hair. Once I’ve got over the cheese, I’ll make a start.
Thanks for the compliments
You ask me if I am scared to take THAT strappy top out of the drawer because I’m conscious of my bingo wings. You ask if I won’t even try on shorts because I think I’ve got sumo wrestler legs. We’ve covered THOSE summer shorts already so let’s focus on THAT strappy top. I’m going to have to ask for clarification again. Do you mean the black vest I bought from Topshop in 2009? Or the Zara top I got from a charity shop?
Either way, thanks for asking but taking I think I’ll be okay. Cancer frightens me. Traffic frightens me. Getting a top out of a drawer does not frighten me.
Thanks for the timetable
You tell me how I can have a better bottom in seven days and you offer me a smooth arm action plan. How much better will my bottom be, Boots? Perhaps you could explain what is wrong with my current bottom in your June/July edition? And are you sure I need an action plan to get smooth arms? That sounds like quite a lot of work. If it’s alright with you, I think I’ll stick to an overall vision.
Thanks for the fun!!
You say, now that the sun has put his hat on (we hope!). Ooh, Yes Boots, don’t we all?!!! Thanks for the exclamation marks. The sun has put a smile on my face and I’ve almost forgotten about my fear of putting on THOSE shorts.
You suggest I swap scales for string and you invite me to meet the super suncreams. Thanks for the alliteration Boots and the offer of a meeting. Some might say the alliteration is patronising but I like it. After all, it’s just a bit of fun, isn’t it? You make it all fun – my pot belly, my rough arms and my bloated tummy fun, fun, fun!
Thanks for preparing me
Thanks for helping me to get ready for the social-butterfly season, for helping me to prepare to bare my feet and get sandal ready in no time. Without you to keep me right, where would I be?
I’ll tell you where. I’d be fretting about fitting a pair of summer shorts over that bloated tummy and bottom with an improvement plan hanging over it. I’d be struggling with my rough arms, unable even to get a strappy top out of a drawer. And all the time looking at a photo of myself when I was happy with my body. But I wouldn’t be alone, would I Boots? Because you would still be there, talking to my pot belly.
Thanks for the confidence boost
Thanks for telling me to feel confident and ready to enjoy the sunshine with a little help from these skin perfectors. Because, Boots, as you know, I am not confident and never ready to enjoy anything. No woman is. We must all search for that INNER confidence and even then, there’s no guarantee it’s there. After all, it’s a journey to body confidence isn’t it? A journey back to the photo when we were happy with our body.
But most of all, Boots, thanks for the love
How did you know, Boots, that my feet are feeling a little unloved?
All they have for company is sumo wrestlers legs, bingo wings, a pot belly, a bloated tummy, a pair of summer shorts, a strappy top, a whispering cheese and rough arms.
But don’t worry about my unloved feet Boots, I’m still on a journey with them and I have a new love now.
Yes, thanks to your advice, I have fallen in love with the feel of my skin. So although I may not be perfect, as you have kindly reminded me, at least I can touch my own skin for comfort.