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by Beth Teitell
Thursday, April 4, 2002
I've been lying about my weight for years, in a downward direction of course.
But on Tuesday something happened that threw me into a quandary: The IRS ruled
that people who are obese can get a tax deduction for the cost of some diet programs.
Oh, great. What am I supposed to do now?
Vanity's one thing, but this fat-tax thing could represent some serious savings - money I could spend on other health-related costs, such as botox injections, an eyebrow wax or, to keep in the spirit of the deduction, one of those slimming bathing suits.
``When you think about it that way,'' a friend said, looking in the mirror and pulling her face taut to see how she'd look with a lift, ``the choice is obvious.''
So there I was at work yesterday, hunched over my 1040 form, when a colleague walked by eating a breakfast pastry (an Oreo).
``How many years can you do it for?'' she asked. ``Is there some kind of cap?''
Like any seasoned tax cheat, she worried that too many years claiming the obesity deduction might send up a red flag. One can only imagine how unpleasant a fat audit would be.
Receipts from McDonald's, spousal reports on Chinese food leftover-disappearance rates, fitting room photos from your last bathing suit shopping trip. You know they'd want to see it all.
I don't know about you, but this is new territory for me. As a woman in America, I've never worried about proving I was fat before. Some things just speak for themselves.
Or should. The news story I read said you needed a doctor's note.
With all due respect to the medical profession, who's to say what constitutes obesity? The government seems to be working with a ``roughly 30 pounds over a healthy weight'' figure, but the definition of healthy varies. From what I've heard, if you work for Conde Nast in Manhattan, being bigger than a size 6 is practically deadly.
The IRS ruling has the support of groups such as the American Obesity Association, which lobbied for the tax-code changes, and Weight Watchers International, which encouraged members to petition legislators in support of the changes.
But I'm concerned those organizations haven't thought about the law of unintended consequences. The tax incentive could encourage those on the edge to overeat.
``One more pound and I'm there, baby,'' said a friend who's about to go away on vacation. ``I'm hoping this trip will push me over.'' She flipped through a Zagat's guide for places that offer all-you-can-eat specials.
Remember a few years ago when the IRS decided to get nicer? This may be part of the plan. The new ruling sure puts a different spin on that holiday weight everyone's always complaining about.
From now on, we can think of the traditional Thanksgiving-to-New-Year's 8-pound weight gain as a different kind of year-end charitable contribution. One you make to yourself.
Pass the egg nog.