“My god you look good”, an old friend said to me at a big gay party last weekend, as I stood there in a Halloween costume that revealed a shy-making amount of skin. “What’s your secret? Did you get hold of the real Isabella Rossellini from Death Becomes Her”. No, instead I have discovered the transformative power of weight loss jabs. I am 5 weeks into Mounjaro, the weekly injectable medication that contains Tirzepatide, an active ingredient that supresses and regulates your appetite. Ozempic is perhaps the more famous, but Mounjaro seems to be the current favourite.
To look at me, you wouldn’t necessarily think I needed to start weight-loss injectables, but I really did. During the pandemic, I escaped to the Northumbrian countryside to live with my parents. I adored being home, but my waistline did not. Post a month of that insufferable banana bread, I went full Bake Off, and let the entire household eat cake. Thusly, having been a 32inch waist for all of my thirties, coming into my forties I shot up to a 34, then due to a series of indulgent cheese and schnitzel fuelled trips to Austria, I crept further to a 36. This summer my tailor thought I might even have to go further, as he fitted me with black-tie trousers – I went ashen, and I asked him to re-measure me four times. Larger and larger handmade trousers are a very expensive slip into a middle-aged middle.
Self-indulgence comes hideously naturally – I see something and I want to eat it. Millefeuille appears in front of me, I’ll wolf it in seconds. Having dinner with a famous editor once in Mayfair, I hoovered down a Shepherd’s pie in record time and got a very judgy, “gosh Henry, I didn’t know you had such an appetite. That was for two”. Entertaining for a living means that most days involve some sort of food indulgence – three course meals, twice a week, is fabulous, but it does fatten one up like a dairy cow. A few months back, a famous society photographer exclaimed “now suck in, Hen”, and I knew I had to grip my dreaded expansion.
Vanity aside, I know that at 42, if I don’t grip it now, it will run away with me. Breathlessness, pressure on limbs – weight isn’t just about looking good in clothes. I’ll probably will be pilloried for this, but I know my fighting weight, and I just am not happy bigger. Even when a lover told me “I love your little dad bod”, I could have died. I nearly kicked him out. Nearly.
I know my fighting weight, and I just am not happy bigger. When a lover told me “I love your little dad bod”, I could have died
There are many ways of obtaining Mounjaro. Though now available on the NHS, I went to a private doctor’s clinic (I used Effect Doctors on Greek Street), and got myself a full medical, where I was weighed, had blood tests, was prodded and poked – and discovered that even though I am tall, my BMI was dangerously high, and so I qualified for injectables. I may not look very obviously overweight, but I have hidden it masterfully with wide-leg, high waisted trousers, and re-embracing the corset-like qualities of the double breasted waistcoat.
Starting on a low dose (2.5mg), I inject into my belly fat once a week, alternating sides of the belly button, and it’s not as bad as I thought. The pens are very easy to use – you check for air bubbles, prep the pen and inject, hold for 5 seconds, and it is a v tiny prick. By week 4, I had lost 5kg, and was ready to go up to the next dose (5mg).
It’s a strange feeling – I am hungry, just not very. It has effectively cut out the food ‘noise’ that I live with daily. That wish to have a whole packet of chocolate digestives (which I merrily could as a teenager), or carb heavy snacks, has totally disappeared. You must eat sensibly, and you must exercise – but you can go without proper food, so you have to remember to eat properly once a day, as my doctors advised me. It has also – are you sitting down – stopped me from drinking so much. A glass will do when it was previously, easily, a bottle. I find that if one injects on a Sunday night, you lose appetite for Monday through Thursday, then Friday it starts to creep back, and by the weekend you are sort of eating normally.
It’s a strange feeling. I am hungry, just not very. It has effectively cut out the food ‘noise that I live with daily – the wish to eat a whole packet of biscuits, or carb-heavy snacks, has just disappeared
Thankfully I have had few side effects. I haven’t experienced the nausea people often complain about on Ozempic. The diarrhoea, which purportedly got Derek Blasberg into a host of fecal Jackson Pollock trouble at Gwyneth Paltrow’s white and cream guesthouse, I mercifully have avoided. Blessed relief to a mega fan of white denim. Eating too much has given me a bit of acid reflux, but generally no complaints. I crave less heavy food – veering to fish, greens and grains – but it is my sweet tooth that has really disappeared. Little lust for puddings, no more pina coladas – instead a shift towards martinis and clear drinks.
Before embarking on injectables, I encourage anyone thinking of starting to go through a doctor and proper channels. Very easy to get online, there are some horror stories where fake Ozempic pens have turned out to be insulin, resulting in seizures and diabetic comas – so if you are considering it, please go down legitimate routes. Concern about ‘Ozempic face’, where you lose weight quickly and look gaunt, has rattled round Hollywood, and is entirely down to those who are self-regulating and starting on too high a doseage. It is a marathon, not a sprint. The same people have complained about more side effects – so like all things, be sensible and listen to the professionals. I plan on doing this for three months, then coming off – it is a reset, that I hope will have re-trained my body into a healthy relationship with the amount of food I consume.
I’m of a generation that grew up with parents and grandparents that encouraged us to finish every last morsel on our plates – a disaster for our collective weight. Mounjaro is helping me to do what I always knew to, but didn’t have the will power. Less in, move more, eat cleaner. I haven’t hidden that I’m on it, and the more people I tell, the more open up that they’re also taking it, and you swap a few tips and tricks (like always carrying Rennies and charcoal tablets which neutralise acid and gas) – it’s The Mounjaro Club. One friend on it has been signed off from two auto-immune complaints, and another has reported a clearing of a heart arrhythmia. Now whether that is loss of weight, or the drug, I do not know. What I do know, is that not only do we look fabulous, we are becoming a hell of a lot healthier. No more sucking in for me – dad bod be gone.
