The Diet That Spread Underground
	Some months ago in America, chronic weight-watchers became aware of a strange stirring in the world of nutrition . . . rumours of a diet which was achieving exciting results for people who had never before managed to get their weight problem under control. Perhaps because it was habitually referred to as the 'Air Force' diet, without any official air force sanction, the new formula spread in a curiously underground fashion. It is now legend that copies of the diet were passed from friend to friend and run off on office Mimeograph machines. From the knowledgeable communications media, bits and pieces of material trickled down through the well-defined echelons of the 'in' groups-advertising, publishing, finance, and so on-until even in some of the better Seventh Avenue dress houses there were those who possessed perhaps a page of it and were thinking about trying it without exactly knowing what it was. Then it began to surface. Vogue and Redbook brought it, in brief form, to public attention. A pamphlet entitled The Drinking Man's Diet carried its revolutionary message across the country, climaxing with a Newsweek report in which the word was blazoned wide that on this diet you can continue to drink. To dieters, this is indeed news; no other weightwatching diet puts up with liquor, with its enormous number of calories per drink. But alcohol is not the only hitherto forbidden item which this new diet sanctions. Cream, butter, fried foods are allowed-heresy to those who know (and what dieter does not?) how many calories they contain. It became apparent that if this exceedingly valuable, exceedingly successful new approach to weight control were not to be misunderstood, it had better come out in full, understandable form with the background for its revolutionary approach made clear. Here, then, it is: the low carbohydrate diet works by cutting not calories, but carbohydrates. The principle, highly simplified, is that when fuel-producing carbohydrates are restricted, the body, which must burn something for energy, burns fat instead. It works so well that while the dieter is painlessly lowering his weight he has no trouble maintaining good health and high spirits. FACING THE WORLD ON MELBA TOAST The last consideration is important. If you are reading this book, you probably have dieted. You know what it means to face the world after breakfasting on dry Melba toast and a cup of black coffee. And you know how difficult it is to get through a morning's work when all you can think of is the delights that await you at lunchtime: a single breadstick partnered by a mound of grainy cottage cheese. This state of demoralization, sometimes accompanied by nerve tantrums, is a familiar one to many a weight-watcher for a simple reason: whether he counts calories or puts himself on one of the fad 'crash' diets (all eggs, all bananas, all grapes or whatever), he takes off weight by cutting down on food. Now, any 'diet' will reduce you, in a manner of speaking, if it sharply reduces your food intake over a long enough period. Overweight is no problem in starving communities. This kind of diet will also reduce your vitality, your ability to function both physically and mentally, and even your life span if carried to foolish enough extremes. THE BRINKMANSHIP SCHOOL OF DIETING Low calorie diets, of course, are not starvation; they are brinkmanship. They offer the body just enough energy units to get along on, with none left over for storage or padding, and they will generally work moderately well for some people. The emphasis is intentional. For years the principle of calorie-cutting has been the ruling one in weight-watching circles, both medical and lay. Yet it has always been known that there are many for whom this principle will not work. For a great many others it can be made to work only by reducing their food intake to such pitiable proportions that nerves, personality, and productivity suffer. In extreme cases, the body itself can be so deprived of necessary nutrients that the slimming individual finds himself-or more probably herself-barely able to totter to the doctor's office so that restorative measures can be taken. Next: All That Dieting - And No Results