The Tyranny Of Being Thin

I WOKE up the other day and dragged myself to the scales.

Nine stone four pounds, they read. No eating today, I thought.

I am a 5ft 10in career woman; why do I obsess about a couple of extra pounds?

I come from large-framed, athletic stock, so it is not easy for me to be extremely skinny unless I'm on the verge of anorexia.

I was a chubby child and happy with myself until a few boys at school shouted "Meatball" at me in the playground. This hit a nerve and the next few years became a living hell.

I stopped eating, started exercising manically and, at 14, was approached by all the model agencies in Stockholm.

Boys no longer bullied me, and, although I was completely flat- chested, I suddenly became an object of their desire.

It was only when I met the legendary model agent Eileen Ford, who told me, "I want you to lose quite a bit of weight, but not too much because you've got such a big head", that the absurdity of fashion finally struck me.

I thought I had been in control and now realised I had been manipulated all along.

A healthy, fit person is easier to photograph than an anorexic one, and designers can make their samples in any size, so it doesn't make sense for the fashion industry to promote the "size-zero" image.

In this day and age, we should be striving for a stronger, healthier ideal.

Is this obsession with weight just something to distract us from other problems in our lives, such as failed relationships and uncertain work prospects? If we concentrated on our achievements we could surely be more content with what we are.