Dear O The Oprah Magazine Cover Girl Oprah,
I don’t know if you remember this — in fact, I’m almost positive you don’t — but I was on your show once. Well, not in person, but a photo of me was. Even better, it was my fat photo, and my face was blurred out. It was when my college friend Kerry came on the show to promote her book, The Ultimate Sex Diet, and needed some “before” pictures. I was happy to oblige and a (fat, blurred) star was born. You’re welcome.
Anyway, that’s not why I’m writing this letter, but it’s nice to reminisce, right? I just wanted to ask you: What. Are. You. Doing?! How do you look like you’re 35 and weigh less than you did when you rolled out the wagon full of your own fat? And yes, of course I know about Photoshop and retouching and all that business. And I know you have more money than all the Kardashians plus Black Chyna and Kanye put together for personal trainers and chefs. But still.
One time I went 30 days without sugar, alcohol, dairy, gluten or soy, and my thighs still weren’t that small. Also, I’ve been using my Rodan & Fields AMP roller (don’t ask, Oprah) for at least a week and I’m only 41, and you look younger than I do.
You know when you do that thing where you do the, “You get a car! You get a car!”? Could I get your personal trainer/chef/air brusher for a month?
Also, I like what you did with the subliminal messaging of “LIVE BIG!” (even though I’m so small). You’re a master.
Working on my grandest dreams,
p.s. No joke, I’m watching The Bachelor as I write this and your Weight Watchers ad is on. (Not the “I EAT BREAD EVERY DAY.” bread-monster one, although I love that one.) So are we pretending Weight Watchers is the secret?
To whom should I write the next letter? Suggestions in the comments please.