Vanity is good. Vanity is the first thing you give up on, but it isn't the last. It's the shallow end of your humanity, but it's like the canary in the coalmine. After that goes, the rest follows.
My grandmother kept trying to "reduce" until she was in her '80s (she wasn't fat, just old-lady-shaped), until the Alzheimer's stole her brain.
My vanity is recovering itself, too. I was out this weekend, and I kept catching site of myself in window glass. Remember when you'd do that, and it would take you by surprise, because you kind of mentally prepared yourself before you looked in the mirror at home, but you weren't ready for that...huge...thing you were seeing in the store window? Well, I kept catching sight of me and thinking, "hey! I'm not fat any more!"
And I'm not. I look like someone who could stand to lose a few pounds, sure, but I look in the normal range for my height. I remember that from the way up, too -- I put on a lot of weight before anyone really noticed.