I’ve never given cellulite a second thought. This isn’t because I have none, I hasten to add, merely that my beauty gripes reside elsewhere, so cellulite’s never really had a look in.
That said, I was trotting around one morning entirely nude earlier this year while moisturising my body and seeking out clean clothes, caught sight of my body in the mirror and was struck by the smoothness of my thighs, the absence of something that on closer inspection revealed itself to be cellulite — or rather the lack of cellulite. I’d just spent a week at the Mayrlife clinic, where they fed me mostly vegetables and broth and encouraged me to walk around Lake Altaussee daily, and drew the conclusion that those salubrious habits had sent the dimples away.
