Remember last spring, when everyone was hot for so-called calorie restriction diets, and your BFF emailed you that masterwork of immersion journalism in New York wherein the writer (a dude, obvs) spends a few months among people who supposedly desire a "lifetime lived as close to the brink of starvation as your body can stand," on a diet the "average sub-Saharan African would find austere"... and then you get to the part where he's like, I could only eat 1,800 calories a day and you're like, "You fucking total SWINE!" by which I mean, um, tell that to Valentino Achak Deng, and then you noticed your BFF's "WTF 1,800 is for people who still drink BEER" comment at the top of the email, but then you forgot about it when New York recommitted itself to accuracy in journalism when it printed that
Anne Slowey's Fash Week food diary, wherein it was revealed that being a glamorous woman may actually be harder than being a Lost Boy of Sudan, in a way. Now, the long-suffering Liz Hurley has weighed (HAH) in on this important topic, offering up to the press the details of her pre-wedding diet, which made a snack of "six raisins," all so she could turn herself into "what she described as a glowing goddess," which we can only assume she said while thinking, "What do you tards think a woman who invites Kate Moss to her wedding gets to eat? Gluten?"
Hurley Hookwinks Paparazzi [The Australian]