Watching the weight

Women huddle together for warmth in a church hall – it’s almost reminiscent of a scene in a developing country. But these women aren’t starving, and this is not a city devastated by war. No, this is a Weight Watchers meeting, writes Pamela Welsh



It’s seven o’clock on a cold March evening and St Anne’s Hall, off Hoxton Street, has been hijacked by these people desperate to lose weight. The hall had been used for a children’s playgroup earlier in the morning. There are grubby fingerprints on the wall from tiny hands, and a sign on the wall proclaims colourfully: “Today it will be cold.” It is cold today; it’s snowing. The faithful plod in, shaking themselves down like wet dogs, and resignedly take their place at the end of the long queue.

The queue of women stretches like a snake around the small room, waiting to pay their £5 membership fee. They are mostly dressed in black, the colour they say you should wear if you are slimming. The queue shuffles slowly past a table covered in Weight Watchers merchandise, like filing past a coffin lying in state, mourning the loss of the confectionary and chocolate they once could have tucked into guilt free. Hungry eyes ogle the low fat crisps, but it’s not the same. Where are the Golden Wonder crisps when you need them?

Weight Watchers is a modern phenomenon, attended by hundreds of men, women and children in the UK. Its quirks and nuances have entered our lexicon, and our culture has even begun to parody the weekly meetings and weigh-ins that have become synonymous with it – think Marjorie Dawes in Little Britain, with her tough fat-fighting attitudes and scathing remarks.

It is the most high profile and highly attended of all the slimming clubs in the UK, but it sprang from humble roots. In the early 60s, New Yorker Jean Nidetch discovered that the best way to control her weight was to eat normal food and talk to friends and other people who could understand and support her. Jean invited some friends to join her in following a medical diet recommended to her by a hospital dietician, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Since then the company has continued to expand: in the UK alone over 6,000 meetings are now held each week by a Weight Watchers leader who has also lost weight successfully with the group.

Back in St Anne’s Hall there are scared looks on all the faces waiting for the weigh-in. “I’ve been really bad this week,” one woman says, her eyes fixed on the scales with an expression of horror. Although the scales are designated a private area, you can tell the fortunes of all the women by their faces as they step off. An elated woman turns to her friend and whispers “I lost two pounds!” Another, who is wearing a mini-skirt in an effort to weigh less, looks crestfallen.

But it’s time for the meeting to start. Dee’s high pitched voice rings out around the room. She hands round her home-made fat-free chocolate brownies. Devoid of fat, they taste like they contain dust instead of anything appetising. “You can find the recipe in this cookbook,” she says enthusiastically. “It’s only £20.”

It’s toe-curlingly embarrassing. “It was Mother’s Day this week,” our new instructor, Dee, tells us all. There are around 25 women in the room, most of whom are under 30. The older women look at each other and laugh: “I got a massive breakfast in bed,” one woman with a broad Cockney accent says guiltily. “Ooh, it had everything. There were sausages, bacon and eggs. And I had a kebab last night.”

Dee laughs and says she knows how she feels. She points at the picture that she has pasted onto the cardboard at the front of the hall. “This was me, when I was fat.” It is unrecognisable.

For all the embarrassment and the artificial atmosphere in the room, this makes it all seem real. This is what people put themselves through this for. Dee is now a size ten, but it has taken hard work. Her self-esteem suffered and she wanted to feel better about herself. And while it is very easy to make fun of her and all the women who sit looking at her, my heart goes out to them.

The Weight Watchers system works by using a formula to assign food a points value. This is worked out using the calories and the saturated fats – an apple, for example, has half a point. Your daily points allowance is worked out by taking into consideration your weight, age and activity levels, leaving the average women with around twenty points to play with each day. You can earn more by doing more. An hour at the gym is worth another three apples.

Despite the overload of cheesiness, Dee does impart some interesting information. Did you know that half your daily points allowance can be consumed by a large hot chocolate from Starbucks? There’s a collective intake of breath around the room. “No!” says one woman incredulously.

But Dee is right. She goes on about how it’s important to plan your food – nibbling makes you fat, you know. We play a game, totting up the fat in a McDonalds, and it’s actually quite fun. And yes, maybe it’s excruciating for the newcomer, but for the seasoned WeightWatcher, the meeting is a vital part of their week.

These women are genuinely glad to see each other and there is a community spirit in the hall – they have a common goal and a shared understanding. Dee stands up and leaves us with the ambiguous sentence, “I hope to see a lot less of you next week.”

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