Marbella's Celebrity Hairdresser Jonathan Yeadon confesses of Being a BAM (Body Anxious Man) and the Lengths he has Gone To, Including Cosmetic Surgery

Marbella, Spain (PressExposure) August 27, 2009 -- During my teenage years I was classed as morbidly obese, I could blame my mother and grandmother for over feeding me but basically I ate because I wanted to. I decided though in my later teens, as I became more image aware that I wanted to do something about it. I dieted like a maniac for months to achieve a body that I was very happy with, apart from the area of fat around my middle my muffin top. It wouldn’t budge.

Over time, I tried bulking up to look like Arnie, slimming down to look like Brad, but looking back at photos the celebrity I’ve most resembled is probably Peter Kay.

I’m not alone in worrying about my body or the failure to transform myself into Hugh Jackman. There’s a reason why all men’s fitness mags fixate on getting a six pack but curiously lacking in advice on maintaining one, its that far more men think about getting the perfect body than actually achieve it, or better still even try. Not me.

Looking around my bedroom I have several pairs of running shoes for different surfaces, various weights, a rowing machine, two tubs of fat burning pills, a brochure on the power plate, toning belt and two heart monitors. My bathroom cupboard consists of beauty potions and creams, miracle cures to enhance masculinity; fat pills, a tub of testosterone cream (supposed to halt my receding hairline, don’t know if it works I haven’t opened it yet) and Muscle building products. (I struggle to open them too).

I watch what I eat, I permanently calorie count in fact I know so much about diets that my girlfriends come to me for advice. All very metro sexual you know.

I’m not one of those men either who after a few sweaty gym sessions think they will start to look like a Greek god; I have religiously hit the gym three days a week for the last 6 years in the hope that I would eventually have the body of an Adonis... Not to be... I admitted defeat and chose the only option left to me Cosmetic surgery, liposuction to be precise. Thirty minutes on the theatre table and I’m now muffin top free. It was risk taking surgery but for me it wasn’t taking vanity too far.

At last I don’t have to hear the words “wear the black shirt it’s more slimming” or “you are so cuddly”. I feel great and I think I look great. Saying that I was looking in the mirror this morning and notice my eyes are getting a little droopy maybe I need to start on the Botox like all my friends are doing.

As we get older the pressure to stay looking younger gets more intense. How many sit ups will I have to do to make sure my belt stays near my hips and not my nipples. For decades woman have tried to avoid being viewed as sex objects but for us men that is sadly our dearest wish.

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Press Release Submitted On: August 27, 2009 at 3:55 am
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