Until recently, I assumed all women lied about their weight. Now two friends are telling me 150 is not to be dissed, and neither of them looks a gram over acceptable. For once I’m sorry I sounded mean. I should have been clearer. Weigh away — just don’t try to make yourself a role Moss. And please consider what I learned the hard way. Every extra pound adds five pounds of stress on your hips and knees and ankles (get sentenced to 20 months of physical therapy and you will be haunted by visions of people who can barely hoist themselves onto treatment tables, not to mention those who could pull over a stationary bike just trying to dismount). If that’s not cautionary enough, imagine lugging yourself around on crutches for months. Every fucking ounce counts, painfully. Figures may lie, as my friends demonstrate slendiferously. But if you want to sell a diet book, at least look as if the Weight Watchers worked.