With one week between the holiday binge fest and squeezing into my book launch dress I’ve had to tackle a fad diet. I am not really a dieting kind of girl. I could say I prefer to exercise regularly and eat a bit less as required, but it’d be a delusion.

It is still easier to have pudding, and squish myself into corset style shapewear when necessary.

But until they invent Spanx for the face, and every surface in Canary Wharf stops being horrifyingly reflective, needs must.

Fad diets are a dirty secret because they aren’t healthy. But confess you’re on one and people confess back.

I’ve got pals who are only drinking kale smoothies, those who are only eating in the window between 8am and 9am each day, and those who are on “powdered” diets.

That last one might be a euphemism for a popular 1990s drug, but I didn’t like to pry.

Fad diets are circulated by the water cooler and online, and always include doing something unhinged with your food intake.

I chose the Marine Commando diet , which, as far as I can tell, has nothing whatsoever to do with the armed forces. It does however have a lot to do with eggs.

On day one you eat nine eggs. Three for breakfast, three for lunch and three for dinner.

I strongly suspect there’s a gangland family of chickens that have devised this as part of an evil a plan to take over the world.

It was eggstremely trying. I’m not yolking, I’m scrambled.

Don’t be a chicken and opt for a fad diet.

Stick to magic knickers and flattering photograph filters. Cracking.

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