I Tried Vogue’s ‘Whack Ass Crash Diet’ and Lived to Tell The Tale
12 · 9 · 2018
By Tessa de Nicola
This past week, I traveled back to the late 1970s, when mood rings and bell-bottoms were all the rage, corduroy was just beginning to have its moment, and women’s lifestyle magazines were still subjecting their readers to problematic diet trends. One such diet? Vogue’s Wine and Egg Diet printed in 1977, recently gone viral for its compelling regulations. It consists of a lot of eggs, a lot of wine, and some steak and black coffee thrown in the mix.
So, this week I decided to put my body through the world’s weirdest dietary experiment so that you don’t have to. Come, join me on my adventure and slight alcoholism. I mean it sounds sort of Ketogenic, right?
This magical diet encourages you to drink a bottle of dry white wine a day, which I can confidently say I will never drink again as I am suffering from PTWWD, or post traumatic white wine disorder.
Here is what I put myself through for 3 days:
1 hard-boiled egg
1 glass white wine (dry, preferably Chablis)
2 eggs (ideally hard-boiled but poached if necessary)
2 glasses white wine
5-ounce steak (grilled with black pepper and lemon juice)
Remainder of white wine (one bottle allowed per day)
Let me preface this by saying I wasn’t in the market for some ridiculous weight loss remedy but I just thought it could be a really funny, easy article and if I lost 5 pounds in the process then hey, I could start to consider a lifestyle change!
I woke up that morning realizing that I had literally never hard- boiled an egg in my life, so I called up my father, Giacomo, who after the conversation either wanted to disown me or apologize for his poor parenting. After getting the hard boiled egg lowdown, and becoming quite amused seeing as I had garnered a new skill, I made enough to last me the rest of the diet.
I don’t know a whole lot about wine other than I enjoy drinking it - so, for my wine pairing I chose a 15 dollar bottle of Chateau Ste Michelle, Chardonnay. I liked the little picture of the house on the bottle. What I didn’t appreciate was the potent aftertaste of armpit. You win some, you lose some.
I drank the coffee before I sat down to breakfast because I find black coffee disgusting and I preferred to get it over with. Next I scarfed down my perfectly hard-boiled egg, and started sipping away at my fat glass of wine (I started off with a bang).
For lunch I came back to the privacy of my home so I could consume my next glass of wine in peace. For round two, though, it was double the eggs and double the wine. Let’s just say I had to Uber to my next class.
By dinner time I was feeling extremely tired and slightly nauseous, probably because I was running around all day, and had a strange concoction brewing in my stomach. The nausea aside though, I was starving and couldn’t wait to eat something with some actual substance. I drank the rest of the wine and devoured that five ounce, grass-fed, strip sirloin in under five minutes. About thirty minutes later I was ready to pass out. I had no motivation to do anything else that night and on top of that my eyelids felt like paper weights, so I ended up going to bed around seven o’clock.
As soon as I got up in the morning, I immediately ran to the bathroom. Once the deed was done, though, I have to admit I felt unexplainably lighter. So either I had just passed one or two of my vital organs, or this diet was not a total hoax. I weighed myself and I was surprisingly three pounds lighter.
More than slightly hungover, I wasn’t overly excited about about another day of this “whack ass” diet. I had already gotten over the hype of hard-boiled eggs and the thought of drinking wine sent a shiver down my spine. Unfortunately, my journalistic integrity had me pouring up a nice 10 am glass of cheap white wine as I popped another goddamn egg in my mouth.
I didn’t have much on my schedule for the day so I found myself just waiting to get drunk during my exciting eggy lunch. After lunch I found myself in dire need of a nap just to function. I felt tired and moody and it’s safe to say I was putting my body through a second PMS for the month.
After my nap I was feeling extremely frail and light, so I decided to go to the gym. Post-gym, I was starving and honestly thank GOD for the steak portion of this lunacy because otherwise I may not have lived to write this article. I felt a bit better after the steak and again decided to hit the hay early. The sooner day 3 came, the sooner this would be over, right?
Have you ever been so out of whack that you throw a tantrum over the tiniest thing? Well, someone took it upon themselves to put my laundry in the dryer without telling me, and there are some things that YOU JUST CANNOT DRY IN A DRYER. So Day Three became World War III, when I started my day off in tears barely able to swallow another bite of hard-boiled egg.
I was an emotional wreck. And although I certainly felt skinnier – I was three pounds lighter than when I started this whole thing – I felt like shit. I schlepped through the rest of the day like a drunken Eeyore and couldn’t manage to even finish the bottle of chardonnay come dinner time. I was DONE.
My total weight loss ended up at a little over two pounds after I detoxed with close to a gallon of water the following day. Two of those pounds I most likely lost by all the calories I burned during my multiple tantrums. I figured there would be some sort of emotional collateral – I just didn’t expect to feel so tired and unmotivated. Wine is a depressant so my decline in energy is no surprise but it can become unmanageable when you aren’t eating enough to counteract its effects.
Dieting in general comes with a lot of grey area and there are pros and cons to almost every fad, but I am going to go ahead and say this one is all cons.
So, who wants to go get a burger?