Giving my body an MOT.

Yes that’s right it’s T&A time - the moment, usually after an unexpected bit of sunshine, when a woman stands alone in front of her bedroom mirror and bares her arse and soul.

After a winter of comfortable clothes cover up, a future of heat–inspired exposure beckons. So a critical eye must be cast over one’s bits and measures must be taken to improve measurements. I wish I could say I did this voluntarily – but this year it took a little gentle persuasion.

Like your g/f declaring, during a moment of sensual delight: “Christ Sadie your bum is getting fucking huge”

Thanks love, Jane Austen couldn’t have put it better! And my beloved (who’s built like a boy) likes and is always praising my cuddliness so I must have hit Jade Goody proportions round the rear end.

Which is why I’m studying myself closely. It reminds me of when I had a company car and used to take it to the Volkswagen dealers for a yearly MOT and check over. I wasn’t much of a car-lover and didn’t take much care of it. Darren the mechanic used to walk around it, shaking his head and sucking his teeth.

I can imagine him now, in my bedroom, walking around me with his clipboard and reciting his familiar litany.

“Oh Sadie, you really haven’t been looking after the bodywork have you?”

He leans closer. “I mean just look at the ripples on the surface, down here and right over the back end, it’ll take some work to get rid of them”

He nods sadly, grabbing my arse cheeks and pressing down. “Look at the play in these, that’s not right, they’ll need really tightening up”

He moves round to my tits. “And bloody hell, Sadie look at this, your suspension’s absolutely knackered – what have you been doing to yourself”

He gets on the floor to inspect underneath. “Tch Tch Tch!” I hear him sigh. “Those flaps are loose…they’ll need to be screwed up for sure!”

He gets up and stands by me, checks his clipboard and speaks sadly. “Well I’m afraid I’ve got to fail you Sadie. I know you’ve got a few miles on the clock and have given rides to several owners but I can’t pass you in this condition”

He tries to be helpful. “Tell you what, bring your chassis down to the works and I’ll give you a quick touch-up and a good service…”

I stop this stupid fantasising but the observations are correct. It’s gym’ll fix it for Sadie and I’ll sign up today.

But honestly, the nipples aren’t pointing downwards, the belly’s manageable and the thighs are ok – so it’s not all bad news. Actually I look fine nude, everything seems in proportion - it’s an odd fact that we often appear worse in clothes than we do naked. Squeezing into that tight fabric is a bad look.

I often muse on this when I’m on our famous nude beach. Whatever age or sex we all look quite cool (it’s probably the Brighton breezes)

Sure there’s the usual suspects, scraggy old men like used condoms, women with backsides you could park a Harley Davidson in and enough cellulite, beer guts and love handles to keep Hannibal Lector in snacks for a month – but there are also some really sexy tits and arses.

Unfortunately they’re mostly on men. Gay men make up the majority of the sunbathers. Of course, there are quite a few couples and, occasionally, women like me. But it’s definitely cocks on the rocks at Brighton.

But hot sun and hot bodies seems a world away on this cold April evening. So I stop the sag-survey and start to write this. I might be sitting on my fat arse but I feel optimistic.

The Volkswagen with the battered bodywork still got around a lot. And so will I!


Love & cuddliness. Sadie xxxxxx