Ladies! Imagine, if you will, that “it’s your turn to organise the next girls’ night out” (as one does, all the time). Perhaps you’re stuck for ideas, or maybe you’re the crap friend who would, quite frankly, rather be at home alone with a bottle of Smirnoff and Unknown Pleasures playing on repeat? Well, here’s a suggestion from Special K: “why not try something different and organise a tea party instead?” Yes, that’s right – a tea party! Why ever not? You could pretend it’s the 1940s (if you’ve got a man, make sure he’s not around – he could pretend to be getting blown to bits in Normandy or something):
Serve hot drinks in vintage tea cups (visit your local charity shop and boot sale for bargains), decorate with pretty bunting and hit the shops for a ’40s-inspired tea dress. And don’t forget the biscuits!
Ah yes, the biscuits!
With 95% of Glamour readers saying they loved the fact that Special K Biscuit Moments have only 99 calories per pack of two, you don’t have to stop at one!
Indeed! You could eat two packets and hence consume more calories, but less genuinely nice, tasty biscuit, than if you’d had a couple of normal digestives! But I’m being churlish. It’s a great idea. Wouldn’t your friends just love it? They’d appear on your doorstep, all set to get smashed, and you could surprise them with a whole new world of diet biscuit instead (after all, 86% of Glamour readers would recommend them to a friend. They’re big on statistics, if not on taste).
In case your friends aren’t impressed with your ’40s do and end up sulking in the anderson shelter you’ve pitched in the back yard, why not have a go at being “the most popular girl in the office next time you do the tea run”?
Rather than treating your colleagues to fattening snacks, offer them Special K Biscuit Moments instead! With 85% of Glamour readers saying the like that Special K Biscuit Moments allow them to have a snack without the guilt, and 82% agreeing that they are satisfying, you’re safe in the knowledge that you and your friends in the office can give in to that mid-afternoon urge for a break and a gossip without worrying about your waistlines, too!
Hurrah! Who cares if these people, deprived of their regular Greggs lard fix, won’t be your “friends” for much longer and you miss out on that much-deserved promotion (don’t worry, it’s only an imaginary Bridget Jones job anyhow)? You can “have a snack without the guilt”! Certainly, it’ll no doubt be without the enjoyment, too:
These delicious crispy biscuits come in a choice of two soft fruity fillings – strawberry and blueberry – and are topped with a vanilla drizzle.
And they look appalling. And yes, I’d probably eat them if there was nothing else around. But the more I think about it, the more I realise I would feel guilty for inflicting such things on people I actually liked.
It may surprise you to know that Special K do not go so far as to suggest you organise a whole hen weekend based on chomping Biscuit Moments (oh no, that’s my suggestion). This is, after all, the strange world of lady treats, a world in which you’re supposed to be so terribly hungry and so devoid of any memory of what actual treats taste like, you are in fact able to enjoy – or at least, sort of enjoy – rubbish, miniscule versions of the real foods that you still dream about every night.
While this month’s Glamour (yeah, yeah, I know) is pushing Biscuit Moments in our miserable, Dairy Milk-smeared faces, Cadbury’s have been busy launching Crispello, a new chocolate bar “for women”:
Crispello, a mix of wafer and chocolate from the Fererro Rocher school of confectionery, clocks in at 165 calories in 3 re-sealable packages, so that women can help themselves to “a little at a time rather than in one go”
My immediate response to this is a) I don’t like wafer. It’s just something you eat because it’s too hard to separate it from the rest of the KitKat, and b) I don’t want “a little at a time rather than in one go” and if I did, it’s not as though normal chocolate bars aren’t divided into chunks, and neither do they go off if you leave them for a while in an unsealed container. Cadbury’s, I’m presuming you did some research, but this does not seem to me to be the problem. Besides, as anyone who has tried the “ooh, I’ll just have a little bit” technique knows, the only way to make it work is to destroy the rest and by that I mean not just putting it in the bin, but making sure it’s utterly unpalatable. Perhaps you could make a chocolate bar where one half is yummy while the other half is filled with genuine human shit. That’d probably work. You’d need to make both halves distinguishable from one another, mind (but then market a hardcore version later, where you just don’t know which is which. The ED market would lap it up).
To be honest, right now – in this current phase of my life – I am having a crap time with food. Not to go into any detail (since I’d only want to once a phase is over) it’s all a bit rubbish. It will get better, I’m sure, but there are no magic biscuits or chocolate bars which make these things easier. If you can’t eat a normal chocolate bar happily and without guilt, you’re sure as hell not going to enjoy a pathetically small one with packaging which goes so far as to suggest you shouldn’t really be allowing yourself the whole thing at once. You’ll want it all and it will make you think there’s something wrong with you for doing so. And then if you do eat the whole thing, you’ll think you’ve broken a rule and might as well eat another three bars, followed by a Yorkie because fuck it, might as well break all the chocolate gender rules at once (when I write “you”, I obviously mean me, not you. Just thought I – or “you” – would make that clear).
Anyhow, I went to Sainsbury’s this evening and to be honest, I did look to see if Crispello was on the shelves (if I’d read that bloody Guardian piece properly to begin with, I’d have known it wouldn’t be here yet, but I was just too excited about the three separate bits thing). Given that it’s not there, perhaps I should be less of a cynic. Perhaps I should wait to try it first. Perhaps it will herald a new era of self-control and guilt-free pleasure, in which I flounce about with “the girls” while sporting vintage fashion. Perhaps the trouble all along has been a sheer lack of sufficiently female-oriented chocolate.
Sod it, I’m having a Caramac before the rules change yet again.