Clad in a silky pink robe, Christina Hendricks poured a glass of orange and sat down to her breakfast, a healthy grape fruit-and a healthy dose of bacon and eggs to go with it. She felt refreshed after a good night's rest. The first few months after her and Geoffrey split up had been rough, but lately Christina was feeling like herself again. She had bit by bit gotten back into her old routine.
Part of that routine was having a full breakfast, the most important meal of the day after all, and checking her email, reading the news, and seeing if she was being mentioned anywhere. For a while she had stopped doing that last part. Since Mad Men ended Christina hadn't been quite the big name celebrity she had been before, but the paparazzi still loved to take her picture. Some celebrities minded this, but not Christina. She loved the attention. She especially loved comments left by fans.
"She is such a goddess. What a perfect woman!"
"This is what all women should look like.
Even without make up she's GORGEOUS!!!
Can you believe she's almost 45?!?
Christina smiled to herself, nodding and agreeing. Even the comment about her age didn't bother her. She was happy to be still healthy and finding work in her 40s, and had no problem with still being a sex symbol.
But she also knew she shouldn't spend too much time in those comment sections. For all her confidence, Christina had a fragile ego about some things, especially after her divorce. It was only a matter of time before she'd find something less flattering about her.
She used to be hot but she's getting a gut now.
Christina actually gasped at that and patted her stomach. Yes, it was soft, not perfectly flat like in her 20s, but it was no gut. Although the pictures from the side did make it look like it was pressing into her jeans, and they had been tight yesterday. Although, she suspected some of that had definitely been in her rear...
Oh, well, she thought, time to diet again. Christina had a public love/hate relationship with her body, but in private found very little not to love about it. The only thing she found frustrating was, ever since she hit the big three-five, how easy it was for her to gain weight. It seemed that every four or five months like clockwork she'd find her clothes feeling snug. In the past, she certainly had gained enough to have an embarrassingly bulging tummy, she knew that. On Mad Men this occasionally became embarrassing as her tight outfits on their would have to be adjusted, something Christina found infuriating and humiliating. But when that happened, she'd go on a crash diet, drop a few pounds and inches, and have her sexy, buxom figure back to its old self in no time. She'd just have to diet again. Her sexy, buxom figure would be itself again in no time.
Oh, 154, really? She looked at her usually unused scale. She pinched that softness around her middle again. 150 to be her normal (that number was 140 ten years ago, but everyone has to change with the times), and thought those extra four pounds were unacceptable. She regretted all that bacon she had just eaten. And the sausage the day before. And all that Italian food the other night.
Putting those negative thoughts aside, Christina got dressed for her day, the only concession to the unkind comments being that she opted for a formfitting floral dress that showed every extreme sexy curve of her hips, ass, and breasts, without any unsightly flab or jigging around her middle that more casual attire might highlight. Christina was not so proud that she didn't resort to Spanx during these briefs times of being slightly heavier than her ideal, as she would say.
Grabbing her purse, Christina left to-
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