Last week, I made it to a gym class and actually got a shock when a skinny, drab-looking creature stared back at me from the mirror. Who needs Weight Watchers to shift those post-baby kilos? My face tells a story of pain, a new harsh crease above my nose, grey skin and hollow eyes. I can barely recognise myself. And for a dose of extra drama, I got light-headed and fell down at the end of the class: How very 19th century ladylike!
Hers’s a guy who must have practised his scales: