Just a little laugh for all you wonderfully talented and gifted women...that don't have perfect bodies...

Celebrity bikini shots: warning label required

By Martha Brockenbrough
Special to MSN Entertainment

The December issue of Shape magazine is getting quite a bit of attention—it's the one with 41-year-old Faith Hill on the cover in a bikini.

As she puts it, "Wearing a bikini on a magazine cover is my 41st birthday present to myself."

Well gag me with a shrimp fork.

Faith Hill is a tremendous singer. She's raising three kids, which is hard, hard work. But this photo is just another in a long line of annoying "Aren't I amazing" celebrity features that really ought to come with a warning label.

If Faith Hill's abdomen looks that good after three kids without plastic surgery and a bit of Photoshopping, I'll eat my hat. (I could probably use the fiber anyway.)

Here's my suggested text for that label:

WARNING! ARTICLE CLAIMS DIET AND EXERCISE GAVE 41-YEAR-OLD CELEBRITY A BODY THIS SPECTACULAR. SHE'S ACTUALLY PROBABLY HAD PLASTIC SURGERY, A PERSONAL CHEF, HOURS WITH A TRAINER, AND A LITTLE HELP FROM PHOTOSHOP, SO BEFORE YOU START FEELING GLUM, JUST REMEMBER WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING AT IS AN ILLUSION, A MANUFACTURED IMAGE TO SELL MAGAZINES DESIGNED TO MAKE YOU FEEL BEASTLY SO THAT YOU SPEND MONEY TO IMPROVE YOUR LOOKS DESPITE THE CRAPPY ECONOMY.

I don't know that Faith Hill is a faker, of course. And at least she's not one of those celebrities who claim to have lost baby weight without exercising. As if, Elizabeth Hurley. And Angelina Jolie, is it possible you had the "mommy tuck" after the twins arrived—and that has a lot more to do with your flat belly than breastfeeding alone? Nobody would blame you for it. You had twins, for crying out loud.

I suppose it's possible that stars like Hill are freaks of nature, unravaged by time and childbearing. After all, the ability to sing that well is proof that Mother Nature fiddled with the recipe a bit. But I seriously doubt it. She claims Pilates three times a week and regular sessions on the elliptical trainer were all it took to give her that perfect body.

"I was always very athletic," she said, "playing basketball and softball and running track. But in my 20s and 30s, I'd go through phases with exercise, working out for four weeks before a big tour or video shoot and not doing much afterward Then I had three kids and turned 40, so I decided to make a lifestyle change."

If you're not one of those people who'd describe themselves as "very athletic," you might buy this line of hooey and believe that exercise and diet alone can, in fact, give you the body of a 20-year-old even if you're 41 with three kids.

It's not true, at least not for most of us. I've been an athlete my whole life, not just the two weeks before I shot my music videos, I mean, my driver's license photos. I get it from my mom, a marathon runner who can beat that muscle-bound slacker Ryan Reynolds, even though she's almost 65. (My mom can also run circles around that blowhard Diddy, something that gives me unseemly amounts of joy.)

But Mom's had five kids and even as fit as she is, her abdomen droops like a tea bag. Mine is the same way after just two babies. This is why I thought I'd up my exercise significantly this fall to see whether I could get a celebrity-fit body.

To my regular running and yoga routine, I added four vigorous kickboxing classes a week. This meant I'd need to find more than 8 hours a week to exercise—practically a part-time job--but if that's what it took for me to restore my abdomen to its former (though never spectacular) condition, then it seemed worth it.

I didn't go on a diet, but I didn't add any calories to what I'd normally eat, and I was careful to make myself protein-rich, carbohydrate-light organic meals at home.

The result? Nearly three months later, I can now do 65 pushups in 60 seconds. This is a good score. If you want to pass basic combat training in the army, for example, you only need to do 50 in two minutes. I can do more than 50 sit-ups in a minute, which also beats the army's standards. (Um, does anyone else think the army should have higher standards if middle-aged mothers can beat them?)

So how's my belly? One word: pathetic. It looks like a bowl of rising bread dough, or like sand dunes at a really sad beach. Wait, no. It's a tube sock that has lost all its elastic. So in other words, a person can be in great shape and still look like a cross between the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and Little Lulu.

I'm more or less at peace with this. Having kids certainly changed my life. It's no wonder it changed my body. I wish I look like a 20-year-old, but I wouldn't trade my kids or the experience of raising them for anything. Nor would I have purely cosmetic surgery, not when there is such great need in the world.

The celebrity mothers who pretend they don't go to extraordinary lengths to look the way they do should be ashamed of themselves, though. They're not coming clean with fans, and they're making it seem like you can achieve physical perfection if you do all the right things.

The truth is, those of us who are regular folk can do all the right things with diet and exercise, even if means we have to get our flabby old selves out of bed before dawn. We can try our best, and we can still be completely and utterly flawed. So it is with life in general.

When my 41st birthday comes around, my present to myself won't be a bikini shot on the cover of a magazine. I hope I'll be able to appreciate my ruined stomach for what it is—a map of my life's experiences, and something to be loved more for its very imperfections. When your next big birthday comes around, I'll wish the same for you.