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ROCK BOTTOM

Behinds are the new breasts, derrieres the new erogenous zone. Sarah Joan Ross puts her best cheek forward and tries to get as Kylie-style bum in just one week . . .

It all began with Kylie's bum. Peachy, round and too darned perfect to be true, it was everywhere - shimmering on stage, shaking its stuff in the tabloids, striking a pose in bus shelters. And then, when it looked like the madness would peak, it was decreed that hang-low hipsters and ride-high hot pants were the look for the summer. Park Avenue princesses swapped Botox for bum surgery. Britney and Kate Hudson adopted G-string chic, treatments for 'derriere decolletage' filled the salons.

The bum is definitely back. And for someone nicknamed 'wide load' at school, this is bad news. However, last week, in a moment of delusion, I got with the tush trend and popped to Harvey Nics for a pair of extra-low-rise Earls. I expected to emerge from the changing rooms looking like J Lo's little sister, but no! Instead of looking locking my buttocks into a sexy Gisele-like cleavage, they pushed my excess bum flesh into unwelcome regions of my body. (Fat is like a C-list celebrity; stop it from appearing in one place and it springs up elsewhere.) I could have cried, but I wasn't going to give up that easily. The experts reckon that, with the right approach, the perfect posterior is achievable and, ever the optimist, I thought I'd try and get myself a kickin' ass . . .

Friday, 17 May

I happened to be in New York this week, so I pop in to see David Kisch, the trainer who whips the rears of James King, Heidi Klum and Naiomi into shape. 'I haven't met a butt that I haven't been able to lift, tighten or plump,' he tells me. Sadly, his method involved dedication (and pain) with a series of lunges, frog jumps and 'platypus' walks (i.e. Squatting when you walk). As he demonstrates the latter, stalking around this studio, arms scraping the floor like a primate, I feel there must be and easier way.

Ditto with the diet. The 'hot burn of eating plan', as suggested by London's A-list personal trainer Henry Furniss, restricts proteins and carbs to fist-sized portions. Doritos are out. Celery is in which might work for a masochist, but when you have a party schedule like mine, it won't cut the mustard and boeuf canapes.

Saturday, 18 May

Fortunately, help is at hand with a new range of beauty treatments that I can do back here in London. First, there's Mesotherapy, in which a homeopathic remedy is injected into the skin to break down fat cells. Sounds grisly, but 'no pain, no gain' is my new mantra, so I make an appointment with Dr. Charles Bale on Harley Street. As I stand there in my thong, Charles and his cute Colombian nurse, Lida, squeeze my cellulite and scrutinise my lifestyle habits. Then it's time. I lie face down on the couch, cheeks clenched, white bottom in the air, feeling more exposed then Judy Finnegan at the National Television Awards. Charles comes at me with a gun. A little needle pokes in and out of the shaft, like a space-age sewing machine. I brace myself as it attacks my rear, a staple-gun action pricking my skin and filling it with fat-fighting formula four millimetres deep. It's a little uncomfortable, on the same level as a Brazilian bikini wax, but after about a hundred (!) mini injections lift myself off the couch and drag my ass to the shops where I'm meeting a friend.

In the communal changing rooms, people stare. Turning in the mirror I notice bruises developing around my bottom and scores of bloody pinpricks dotting my thighs. I gasp. They must thing either: a) I'm into S&M, of b) I have a very enthusiastic acupuncturist.

Monday - Tuesday, 20 - 21 May

This week, most of the war wounds have disappeared (some arnica really helps), and I'm obsessed with checking my butt for any changes. There's nothing to report, so I return for round two. This time, Charles points and shoots at my love handles and tummy as well as my bottom and thighs. The next morning I leap from my bed to inspect the mirror. My bottom seems higher that normal and my tummy had flattened a bit. Fantastic! I'm spinning around my bedroom in true Kylie-style. This treatment kicks butt!

Charles suggests that I try lymphatic drainage to complement his approach, so I dash to Clarins for a Paris Method Body Treatment. Their super-dooper training manager, Lynn Rushton, eases my muscles and mind into a state of deep relaxation with scrummy-smelling potions. She tells me that by massaging my lymph nodes on my lower body in long sweeping movements, I can get rid of the excess water that's lodged on my lower body (ah, so sluggish circulation is why I've felt like a human water bed). When I'm finished, I can't believe it: my once-soft thighs and bottom now have definition. I can actually see muscle!

Hungry for more, I visit the Biofarm salon in Holborn that afternoon to try their latest offering. The Biocell treatment involves wearing Velcro pads that emit electronic currents to lift and tome, but on the pain scale it's more electric beach then electric chair. I lie still for an hour and leach feeling very smug, because it feels as if I've gone for the burn at the gym without lifting a dumbbell. Result!

Wednesday, 22 May

Now that I'm feeling less anxious about the shape of my bot, I start thinking about it's tone and texture, so I consult Shenaz at the Hale Clinic. She coats my rear with Aqua-Therm, as self-heating mask o algae, minerals and oils, designed to boost the bum's gravity resistance. After about 15 minutes, I inform her that my tush is on fire. She assures me that this is perfectly normal, and removes my deep-sea cast about five minutes later. It comes off in one piece - my own bum sculpture! Beat that, Tracy Emin. Joking aside, the effects are serious; the skin on my bum is now softer them cashmere.

I could have stopped there, but posterior perfectionist that I am, I consult super derm doctor Patrick Bowler. He tells me to fight spots and sponginess with an anti-bacterial soap (try Neutrogena Body Clear Body Wash,£4.99); scrub three times a week (he loves products packed with AHAs or salicylic acid); and use an anti-cellulite cream (anything containing caffeine gets his vote). Oh, and wear 100 percent cotton pants.

Thursday, 23 May

I'm in M&S, shopping for no-nonsense knickers, when I spot Wonderbum. These tights are like bottom surgery without the recovery time. Sewn-in supports apparently give you gravity-defying Kylie-ness, and who am I to argue? Heaving them on was like trying on a six-year-old's wetsuit, but wouldn't you know it? They worked. I definitely looked perkier and svelter. OK, not J Lo, but I was at least half a jeans size smaller. I'm an addict.

Friday, 24 May The derriere denouement

Now that my backside's been stared at by all and sundry, and my pants have been up and down more times than Ulrika's, you might ask, what's the bottom line? Well, cheating with beauty booty has definitely made my tush more defined then dimpled. I certainly have a more refined and respectable rear view, more than worth of a Doice & Gabbana bikini - or a pair of Earl jeans for that matter. Oh, by the way, I went back to Harvey Nics and bought those designer denims. They zipped up the first time, and I can actually sit and breathe simultaneously. Now that's a nice ending.

BOOTY CAMP

When treatments aren't enough, David Kirsch suggests a little kick-ass action . . .

Do these three times a week for two to six weeks, aiming for 15 repetitions each with little or no rest in between.

Platypus walk Stand with feet hip-width apart, toes turned out at 45°. Keeping knees aligned with toes, and weight on the heels, lower yourself into a squat. With weight on the heels, walk forward one foot at a time.

Plie toe squats Stand with feet shoulder-width apart, squat down and rise up on your toes, keeping your back straight for at least 10 seconds, Rise up and press the weight through your heels.

Reverse prone scissors Lie face down on the floor with your arms in front of you. Open your legs as wide as possible, keeping your feet flexed, then simultaneously bring your legs together and raise them up, squeezing your glutes all the while.

Rumo lunges In a hallway or clear space, start with a basic sumo position; feet turned out, weight on your heels. Step up and out, placing your weight on your heels. As you rise, squeeze your glutes and inner thighs.

Frog jumps With feet shoulder-width apart, weight on your heels, squat down, keeping the weight on your heels. Leap up, reach high, and land on you heels.

BUTT BUSTERS

When your butt is more Johnny Vegas than J Lo, who you gonna call?

Bottom shaping with Prof. Laurence Kirwan, 10 Harley Street, London UK W1G 9PF, Tel: (020) 7467 8559/ (020) 7467 8300; Treatment costs from £2,000.

Mesotherapy with Dr. Charles Bale 55 Wimpole Street, London WI, Tel: 01883 740005. Treatment costs from£50-£70 for one hour.