The Perfect Fit: Fat-Free Dreams Just Don't Taste the Same

The Perfect Fit: Fat-Free Dreams Just Don't Taste the Same

by Louise Kean

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Overview

Sunny Weston always wanted to be perfect . . . and that meant being thin. Now, after what seemed like a million years on the treadmill—and a million miles from the nearest brownie—she finally fits into those slinky black dresses she's been eyeing for years.

But being a perfect size doesn't necessarily equal a perfect life. Suddenly Sunny's best friends are all bitter and jealous. She's become a stranger in her own body. And though her longtime work crush, Adrian, is finally her boyfriend, she's totally confused now that charming, daringly dapper Cagney has appeared on the scene. Worst of all, she's worried that the recipe for a happy life might not be low-calorie after all.

Maybe it's time for Sunny to discover that the true secret to happiness isn't constantly feeling hollow.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780061977787
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date: 10/06/2009
Sold by: HARPERCOLLINS
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 352
Sales rank: 396,916
File size: 579 KB

About the Author

London-based femme fatale Louise Kean used her own recent weight loss as inspiration for The Perfect Fit. She is a producer for the film industry in Soho, United Kingdom, and she is now working on her fourth novel.

Read an Excerpt

The Perfect Fit
Fat-Free Dreams Just Don't Taste the Same

Chapter One

Proud

Here's what they don't tell you when you lose ninety-eight pounds in weight.

They don't mention the loose skin. They forget to tell you that you'll end up with a rice cake–grey stomach that wrinkles and crumples beneath pinched fingers like tissue paper. They don't divulge that on the upper inside of freshly toned thighs two flabby folds of stretched skin will stand guard over your pelvis, like a pair of spitefully unskinned chicken breasts, with a Stalinist determination not to budge. They don't let on about the pubic pouch that they guard so angrily, that refuses to deflate in line with the rest of you, lending your naked profile a hermaphrodite edge.

They make-believe your life will be a series of ketchup-red headlines yelling, 'Now Sunny Can Wear a Swimsuit and Feel Fabulous!' or 'Sunny Buzzes with So Much New-Found Energy She Could Burst!'

The truth is that the energy reserves alone can be spiteful. Some days I'm woken at dawn by the sun streaming in through the cracks in my curtains, and I'll roll over in bed, hug my pillow, and determine to drift in and out of sleep until it's too hot to stay under the duvet any longer. My new 'healthy lifestyle' denies me this simple pleasure. As soon as I open my eyes I am buzzing. I can no longer spend an entire Sunday in front of the television with the papers strewn out before me, carelessly picking at the foreign news, munching on Maltesers. My metabolism is so wired I wake up feeling like I've been drip-fed crack in my sleep. My body wants to run everywhere: to the train station, downsupermarket aisles, from my bed to my wardrobe in the morning. It disconcerts people. They assume I am running from something, and maybe I am. They don't tell you that some days you will fall so violently off the diet wagon that you will consume a family-sized tub of salted peanuts in twenty-five minutes—your hand dipping rhythmically in and out, passing nuts to lips without thought or care, and that it won't matter an ounce if you run to the gym the next day. The perception is that anybody who loses a lot of weight has an iron will, and this is simply not true: you are mostly good, and occasionally bad. Detoxing is for monks, or freaks. A rogue band of particularly freakish monks actually invented the concept. They had remarkably clear skin, but they were still mad.

They won't tell you that your nearest and dearest will inhale sharply if you eat a Quality Street in front of them, secure in the knowledge that the second you digest its seventy nutrition-free calories, you will regain every pound of weight you have previously lost. All ninety-eight pounds of flesh will instantly bubble and gurgle under your skin—not gone, just hiding—until you suddenly and violently explode like a puffer fish into your old fat self. Despite the effort and determination and willpower you alone have mustered, people will still believe that you need to be protected from yourself. Thus the phrases, 'But you've done so well so far!' and 'Move the chocolates over here out of temptation's way.' Cue a kindly smile in your direction. Try not to speak with your fists when this happens.

They don't tell you that you won't find anything you actually want to wear in any of the clothes shops you were too humiliated to enter pre–fat busting. The kind of shops where skin-and-bones teenage assistants used to eye you suspiciously if you so much as glanced at their carrier bags.

They don't tell you how vain you will become. They won't alert you to the fact, in advance, that you won't know how to cope with looking in the mirror and seeing something you actually like, without succumbing to self-obsession, and fixating on the bits that refuse to become perfect, no matter how many miles you run, or how little dairy you eat. They don't tell you that you will replace an addiction to food with an addiction to losing weight.

And they won't tell you that you won't be in love with Adrian any more.

Adrian, who couldn't see past your belly, and who shouldered the burden of your unrequited love for so long.

Adrian, who was responsible for so many tears in front of the TV on lonely Saturday nights.

Adrian, who inadvertently squished your soul daily for three years.

You just won't love him anymore, and it will really confuse you.

Because you'll sleep with him anyway.

The sun is up, omelette yellow by 6 a.m. I am lucky enough to live in a suburb where the leaves are swept away by anonymous brooms before I leave my house in the morning. On holiday in Jamaica three years ago, my body clock refused to adjust to the time difference, and I woke every morning at 5.30. Stepping out onto my balcony to another postcard day, I witnessed an old muscled Rastafarian who called himself 'The Original', trawling our private beach for fish with handmade nets before the tourists stumbled out of bed with cloudy heads full of last night's rum, and the aftereffects of a 'cigarette' bought from a kitchen hand. Nature wasn't allowed to hamper my holiday, didn't mar my swimming and splashing fun, and living here is the same. You spend your money, you get your return. Nature—in this case excessive leaf droppage—doesn't tamper with my walk to Starbucks in the morning.

I blow on a Grande Black Coffee-of-the-Day, put aside twenty-seven Two-Fingered Fondler orders that came in yesterday, comfortably cross my legs, and sit back.

At the outside table next to me is a guy, twenty-eight, thirty maybe. He wears jeans and a T-shirt that demands in screaming yellow on grey who's the daddy? It tells me everything. There is no . . .

The Perfect Fit
Fat-Free Dreams Just Don't Taste the Same
. Copyright © by Louise Kean. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

What People are Saying About This

B Magazine

“A brilliant tale… Witty and wise.”

Anita Notaro

“Warm, witty, wiseit’s a PERFECT read.”

Karyn Bosnak

“The perfect novel for people who think life will be perfect ‘when’…

Customer Reviews

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Perfect Fit: Fat-Free Dreams Just Don't Taste the Same 4.1 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 13 reviews.
harstan More than 1 year ago
Sunny Weston has believed forever that her weight correlates to her happiness. Now that she has lost ninety-eight pounds, she wonders why she remains unhappy. She ponders if it is the skin now hanging loose, that she transformed her addiction to food into an addiction to lose weight, or that she finally has the attention of her long time unrequited love Adrian though he is engaged to someone else. Her friends suddenly detest her leading Sunny to think they are jealous, but also feeling alone. --- Sipping coffee, Sunny hears a woman screaming hysterically. A man has abducted six years old Dougal. Sunny has finally found some good with the weight gone as she runs down the culprit and the rescues the child. Cagney helps her contain the snatcher. They meet at the police station and are attracted to one another. However, she assumes a hunk like Cagney would never have given her a first look a century of weight ago. Still she feels she should still love Adrian while Cagney makes her feel like a strong woman to admire. --- This is an interesting inspirational tale that stars a woman who has always believed her weight equates to happiness until she begins to realize there is more to a person that what a scale says. Sunny begins to truly change when she realizes losing the weight helped her run down the pedophile but that it is she mentally needing to change if she is to prevent her ¿psychological weight¿ from returning all she lost. Though the romantic subplot is too easy fixed, the key to this fine character study is that the heroine learns that to find inner contentment beyond the personal appearance of THE PERFECT FIT jeans is a bodacious lofty goal worth pursuing. --- Harriet Klausner
Guest More than 1 year ago
I enjoyed this book. It helped bring peace to my inner battle of how I'm suppose to look and what will make me happy. It is easy to relate to and told very well.
Guest More than 1 year ago
This is the perfect book for anyone who's made that big change from fat and hating it to thin and supposed to love it. Just like Sunny, I lived most of my life in a world that just saw me as one thing -- FAT. And now, like Sunny, I know people see something else... even though I still feel like that little fat girl. This book is about the bigger change -- about counting the good about yourself above the calories you count as you eat -- impossible as that seems most of the time. It's nice to have Sunny to look up to!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
What a great perspective! The reminder that getting what you want doesn't always mean it's what you really want:) Loved the writing and the humor in the characters. Good profiles and character development. Only 4 stars though because some bits seemed to drag on a bit.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Very entertaining, easy read. I love British humor and this book had me laughing out loud at times. A little graphic in spots with the language....but she worked it in with humor....so I found myself chuckling. I didn't pick up the book for deep thoughts or earth an shattering ending...or page after page of feelings and in depth character studies. After looking it over, it seemed fun and interesting. That's exactly what it delivered. I loved her characters...loved the quickness and simplicity the characters. No perfect people here...just ordinary and flawed but they intertwine well and make a very enjoyable story. My only problem: I picked this book up at a used book shop and now I want to buy more of this author and I can't find her in any of the book stores (new) locally. So I have to wait for online ordering.
Shae Blackwell More than 1 year ago
very good story and empowering message!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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PiccoultFan More than 1 year ago
This book was okay, but I found myself searching for more depth in Sunny's character. It seemed that as soon as the author began to really give me some juicy bits and insights into Sunny, the narrative moved away into a boring story about the story's other character Cagney, the man who Sunny begins to fall for. There were interesting parts though,and it offered some insight into what it is like to lose a large amount of weight.
Guest More than 1 year ago
Only twice in my life have I stopped reading a book before the end and this was one of them. I made it to page 97 and couldn't take anymore (I threw it away - I didn't even want to share the book like I usually do). It was boring and skipped back and forth. I kept waiting for the book to have a purpose.