DID you know that 90 per cent of women have cellulite and yet very few men suffer from it at all?

This only proves to me that God must be a man and that he somehow has persuaded nature to be on his side.

I mean let’s be honest, obviously nature didn’t think that a monthly cycle, pregnancy, giving birth, breast-feeding, stretch marks and saggy boobs were enough for us women.

No, Mother Nature thought I’ll throw in some cellulite as well - I swear that I have more than my fair share of it, even in places that I’m sure I shouldn’t.

Some days I think that I must look like a giant tub of cottage cheese. So, as you can imagine I’m always looking for the miracle cure to help get shut of it.

Well, ladies - and the man who might have a smudge of it - I have been searching the shops looking at just what is out there and by the heck the list is endless.

Companies must be absolutely raking it in: from machines that you can use at home, which apparently suck the skin and roll it between two rollers, to endless creams and lotions.

So there I was not really knowing which one of the miracle creams to use, because I can tell you there is going to be no machine sucking my fatty bits outs.

There’s more chance of hell freezing over and I knew full well that I couldn’t really ask anyone in the shops if they’d tried any of the creams, not without insulting them, insinuating that they had cellulite.

I did find after much deliberating - because let’s be honest this could be a life-changing moment - I couldn’t rush into it so I decided on a fat-burning mask.

It looked marvellous on the box. There was this picture of a woman with a bronzed, slender body, toned to an inch of her life, not a ripple anywhere.

Obviously for marketing purposes, who would want to buy a product for cellulite with old Mrs Smith from down the road on the box with all of her jelly wobbling about?

So, after a relaxing bath I read the leaflet. It claimed to eliminate fat and rid all the body’s cellulite, by virtue of active substances. The cream reinforces collagen and prevents skin from traumatic stretching which causes stretch marks and dimples.

Oooh! All sounds very scientific. Help was on its way to my poor thighs. I felt bad when I thought of all the trauma that I’d put them through over the years, and it’s best if it’s never mentioned again.

I was ready to give my skin its elasticity back and a youthful radiance with a beautiful shape. I whipped off my towel, it stated that I had to apply a generous amount of cream to the affected area.

I looked at the tube, seriously wondering if one tube would be enough, but I just went for it anyway, thickly plastering the cream on.

It wasn’t as easy as I’d thought; the cream was a thick, gooey consistency, very similar to spreading treacle over the bark of a tree trying desperately to cover every nook and cranny.

Half of the tube had gone already and I hadn’t even covered the top half of one leg. This was not going to work! I couldn’t walk around with only half of my one leg looking super smooth.

I marched back into the bathroom to scrub it off. Then I had a lightbulb moment: just buy some body scrub and a good sponge, or maybe just think of it as not cellulite but my body’s way of saying I’m sexy, in Braille.