Super-slim: Trinny cut a frail figure dropping her daughter off at school Trinny Woodall has been watching what she eats in preparation for her
upcoming assault on Hollywood. Or perhaps counting might be a more accurate description. Little, bar a meagre daily allowance of raw carrot batons, a small handful of organic rice cakes and a carefully controlled portion of roasted pumpkin seeds, has been allowed to pass her improbably plump lips just lately. Even her last illicit pleasure – the single dark chocolate Lindor truffle to which she used to treat herself each evening – has been ruthlessly dispensed with. Nothing, the already super-slim style queen has decreed, must come between her and the size zero figure she insists she will need if she is to crack the all-important American market. ‘Trinny’s absolutely thrilled with the way she looks at the moment,’ a close friend told me last week. ‘She’s just really annoyed that people keep saying she’s had her lips done. She is adamant they are the same size they have always been.’ Perhaps we should give Trinny, who freely admits to being a devotee of Botox, the benefit of the doubt. It could, after all, just be some kind of physiological anomaly that makes it appear as if, while the rest of her disappears before our very eyes, her distinctly fleshy pout seems only to get bigger.
Either way, the results of her weight-loss regime are remarkable and, it has to be said, unsettling.