There is fat; and there is stubborn fat. Ordinary fat respects the rules: you over-indulge, it expands; you cut back, it retreats. Eat less, exercise more and, eventually, you will fit into your jeans again. Stubborn fat, on the other hand, respects no one and nothing. This is adipose with attitude, resistant to even the most persuasive tactics. You can do all the sit-ups, 6am runs and no-carbs-before-bedtime you like and still – still – it will hang out where you least want it.

Stubborn fat can be genetic. It can be the result of pregnancy or middle age or stress. It can make grown women weep in changing rooms; it can destroy people’s sex lives; it can induce an irrational phobia of cap sleeves. Most of all, it can mess with your head. I am a modern woman, you say to yourself; I know that I am not perfect, nor should I be. I am not some vapid stick insect, prey to self-loathing and body fascism. Why, then, does the thought of a bathing costume fill me with horror?

There is not enough space to unravel that paradox here. Suffice to say that every woman has her own way of dealing with the fear, and some are better at it than others. The wise, sane ones learn to live with their imperfections. Others fight every inch of the way, through punishing diets and exercise regimes; and a growing number just think, oh hang it all – and find a surgeon.

Laser liposuction, or SmartLipo, is the latest fat loss cure to hit the burgeoning fast-fix cosmetic market. Unlike traditional liposuction (which, by the way, is horrendous: did you know, for example, that 40 per cent of liposuction patients have to go back for subsequent procedures? They don’t print that in the glossy brochures, do they?), it doesn’t require a general anaesthetic, there is minimal scarring, and patients can step straight off the operating table. It is being touted as “lunchtime lipo”: a quick, painless way of losing a few inches.

Hmm. I am generally sceptical to the point of libel about these sorts of treatments. Don’t get me wrong: I take no high-handed moral position. It’s just that when it comes to surgery, that old Jane Fonda maxim stands: no pain, no gain. For a surgical procedure to work, it’s got to hurt – and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.

And yet it sounds so tempting, especially to women – which is why I have decided to be responsible and witness it for myself. Yes, dear reader, actually tell you (rather than take their word for it) what it’s like to have your fat sucked out through a tube. Only trouble is, I’ve run out of page, so I will have to save the details for next week. I can say, however, that it involves a lot of Valium, mammoth control pants – and a large errant globule of escaped lard. You have been warned…

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