Is she...?

A thought for today, while next week's press day rushes towards me like a speeding TGV and a dinner date with La Famiglia threatens to leave several strings untied over the weekend. Namely: Tabloids. Or more specifically, headlines asking in different clever puns whether a given female celebrity is in the family way. Now, I don't know about other laydeez out there, but I'd say that I look preggers in every other picture taken off me. It's not a fat thing. Actually maybe it's a fat thing. But more often than not it's in the posture or in the way you sit. Or in my case, slouch. If I were a celeb I'd be in the headlines every week. I'd be every red-top's dream!

Leaving you with a prime example! Actually, it's from the Oscars party - I cheated and brought a change of clothes for when the crazy clothes stopped being fun. But I wore a pair of huge Bridget Jones pants to keep to the Hollywood vibe in a small way. That created the eerily white tummy. But aren't control pants meant to keep things IN? Oh dear.
Two, four or six months, what do you reckon?