OHMYGOD! I'm fat!

I can't believe it. Stephen let on that tomorrow's party is a "Black and White" theme, so Jon desperately rushed round trying to find things suitable for me to wear - black trousers, white mess dress jacket - that kind of thing.

Horrified to discover I won't fit into anything of his (hardly a surprise with his 20 inch waist!) but more horrified to discover a pair of trousers I bought no less than two months ago no longer fit. What's going on?

Anyway. I have decided that "I'm sorry - this is desperately last minute and all my clothes are in France" sounds considerably more glamorous than "I have been eating pies and none of my clothes fit."