Food B-listers get shot at fame

Convenience foods seldom are. Apart from a beautiful but brief promotion by McDonald's back in the 90s (when you got your meal for free if you didn't get it in under a minute) most fast food specialists are woefully slow.
We have all felt the sharp pangs of hunger at times when we have been without a remedy and so it is with great personal interest that I take on the mantle of judge at tomorrow's Edible Fashion Awards in Hastings.
Initially, I was a little suspicious about the provenance of this invitation. In a line-up of notable celebrity judges, which includes beauty queens and soap stars, my status as local columnist and sharp shooter reeked of the B list.
Added to this is my infamous ability to be able to happily thrive on tinned food and do so wearing well-worn slippers and unfashionable chenille bathrobes.
Food and fashion are things that I do, but don't always do well. And I definitely don't do them together.
But that's all set to change and I do believe it could well change my world in the process. Every morning, I face two major dilemmas: what to wear and what to eat. The idea of combining these problems into one easy and edible solution is so remarkably simple I can only wonder why it wasn't thought of long ago.
For a start, half my clothes - if edible - could hang in the pantry instead of the wardrobe, freeing up much-needed space for all the high heels that are currently spilling out of it.
But I have some logistical questions which I'm hoping will be answered at tomorrow's event.
Chief among these questions is how one deals with the impact hunger eventually has on one's modesty.
It's all very well being deliciously decked out in long lengths of spaghetti at breakfast time but when lunch - and perhaps dinner - have done the damage, the end result could be a string bikini that is fast running out of strings.
And known as I am for never being more than a few feet away from my loyal dog at all times, I can only wonder the impact it would have on her waistline (growing) and mine (growing naked) were I to be a walking snack bar at her disposal.
Of course, all this is hypothetical because we know that edible fashion is more likely to resemble our grandmother's Sunday dinner table, heaving with all sorts of things that don't taste good but are good for us, rather than a buffet of delicious but unwearable items such as ice cream and mince and cheese pies.
Edible fashion is a chance for the great food underdogs of this world to rise up and, quite literally, take centre stage.
Lentils, uncooked pasta, dried fruits and all sorts of other uncool victuals suddenly have a place in the world that isn't on the far edge of the dinner plate.
The B-listers of the food chain will have their 15 minutes of fame, stealing the hearts and minds of their greedy but adoring public and emerging - if only momentarily - from the dusty obscurity of the back and bottom of supermarket shelves into glorious notoriety.
And there, right at home among all of them will be me, the B-list judge, an expert at eating food if not preparing or wearing it, wondering only if anyone will notice if the Mars Bar ball dress and I get a little too close for comfort during the intermission.