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Anna Nicole Smith Says, "Trimspa, Baby!"
You say, "Investigative Report, Please."

Jane
, March 2005

Las Vegas. New Year's Eve, 2004. An hour and 25 minutes before midnight. An overweight guy in a wheelchair pulls up alongside a narrow red carpet outside the Aladdin Casino and Resort's Curve Ultra Lounge and asks if Paris Hilton has arrived yet. Wrong blonde. Nearby, a couple of cameramen hired by the hotel gossip about how "skinny-skinny" TrimSpa's 37-year-old spokesperson has been looking. "She is Marilyn Monroe," one says, "which is good -- we need another Marilyn." A TV crew from Extra arrives. Then a local news station. Finally, a reporter from Star. Forty minutes left and counting. Suddenly, blinding lights and clamoring fans, and before you can mutter "journalistic low-point," the 5-foot-11 model cinched into a size-four-ish, pink-sequined strapless gown has landed. Lotsa caked-on makeup and muscle tone. She generously leans her 36DDs over for a picture with madly grinning wheelchair guy. Inside, the $100-per-ticket party, the DJ fades down the dance music and energetically announces, "Who's ready to party with Anna Nicole Smith?"

We're all used to the wholesome queens of the $40 billion diet industry, women like Weight Watchers' Fergie and Jenny Craig's Kirstie Alley, who spout classic exercise-and-eat-healthy instructions for a happier, thinner new you. But how passe in comparison to today's "Be envied" idolatry of a fat-gone-skinny bombshell who says you can get money, fame and a long-haired boy toy practically overnight by popping pills...