Positive Thinking

Image by Jörg Peter from Pixabay

“Positive visualization is the thing,” said her sister.  “Imagine yourself wandering carefree along the beach.  Slim, svelte, toned.  Keep the picture firmly in your mind, see it every day.  It’ll happen soon enough.”

“Yeah, right,” replied Minnie, sceptically.

“Yes.  Even Monica swears by it.”

“Monica? What on earth does she want to visualize?”

“She was having difficulty house-training her new Shi’tzu.  It was living up to its name, all over the house.  So we tried this visualization thingy and it worked.”

“Nothing to do with getting a dog trainer in?”

“No … well … that did help a bit,” Louise admitted.  “But it was the focus.  Don’t let that go and you’ll be sorted.”

Minnie remained sceptical but decided a bit of positive thinking wouldn’t go amiss.  She would be as her sister suggested, not quite Venus rising from the sea, more her cousin three or four times removed.  Little black top, fitted with sweetheart neck and showing a glimpse of navel.  Long aqua blue skirt, carelessly buttoned to reveal a daring flash of thigh, innocently topped off with a rather flattering broad-rimmed straw hat.  Definitely an image she could aspire to.

Minnie set to with a will.  First came the boiled cabbage and F-Plan diets.  Protests from friends and colleagues soon caused these to be abandoned.

Minnie adjusted her hoped-for image slightly and did up her blouse so that her navel was no longer exposed.

Meal replacement bars fared no better, Minnie could not help but eat them as she would any other chocolate bar and so she ate too many.

The image was fine-tuned a bit further, no longer a fitted top but a loose smock worn over the skirt.

Diet pills had a rather unsettling effect.  Neighbours asked her what she was on … and could they have some?

By this time the sweetheart neckline had been raised and short sleeves added.

Thoughts reluctantly turned to exercise.  Yoga seemed a good choice.  Not reading the small print however, saw her signing up for the tantric version.  Minnie came out with a face as red as her leotard plus a couple of dodgy propositions.

(Perhaps the skirt may be better off with a couple of buttons done up.)

“Aerobics?” suggested Louise.

“Hah, you have to be perfect before you can even go there.  Not a cat’s chance.”

“What about—”

Minnie shut her sister’s voice out.  It would be easier to simply create a new self-image.  The skirt became an elasticated, pull-on version.  With a smock top this would be much more comfortable.  It also hid those horrid bits of cellulite which seemed to enjoy her company so much.  This left The Hat.  She was still going to wear The Hat, in fact she’d even bought it.

That August saw Minnie happily paddling in the sea.  Not quite Botticelli’s Venus but still a rather passable Reubens and so, after all, a masterpiece.