MADRID JUST SAYS NO `HEROIN CHIC' LOOK.

Byline: STEPHANIE BECKER Local View

ON behalf of all us gals who never missed a meal, I extend a muchas gracias to the city government of Madrid. Local legislators in the Spanish capital are putting the squeeze on the fashion industry. They're demanding more portly models on their runways this fashion week. So, along with their haute couture, models will be accessorizing with some more meat on their bones.

Apparently the whole skin-and-bones cadaverous appearance is a weighty issue in the land of paella and sangria. The burgermeisters fear that the skeletal ``heroin chic'' look sends the wrong message to teenagers. (In defense of skinny, it is economical, cutting down on food costs and medical expenses -- the virtue of being able to see your bones without aid of an X-ray machine.)

But while Madrid's government is putting its foot down, the fashionistas are up in arms, no doubt spindly arms. Just think of that extra inch of fabric they're going to need to hem on the bias. Quick, pull out your pinking shears, grab yourself a seam ripper and roll out an extra bolt of cloth.

Until now, the Madrid models averaged 5 feet 9 inches and 110 pounds. But those who sashay down the stage will now have to pork up to 123 pounds.

Let's review: 5 feet 9 inches, 123 pounds -- there's a realistic goal for teenagers.

But Holy Flan! Models forced to bulk up by 13 pounds for work. Where do I sign up?

For perspective, that's about the heft of two copies of ``The Joy of Cooking'' and the first 100 pages of ``The South Beach Diet.''

Although you'd want to shy away from the latter for quick and effective weight gain. From my vast experience with comfort food, I suggest binging on five pints of tapioca topped with cinnamon and brown sugar, seven slices of American cheese and a half dozen frozen Snickers bars, all washed down with a strawberry shake. It's what's made me what I am today, just a cut above the average American female -- 5 feet 4 inches, 142 pounds. Pass me another slice of cheese.

I'm hoping the Madrid scenario marks the beginning of the end of the fashion-diet food-Elle-Vogue-Cosmo-Versace industrial complex. Perhaps it will also mark the end of men finding the scrawny and undernourished somehow attractive.

Honestly, they just think they like withered waifs. It's the same way people pretend to like rice cakes (so healthy and what great texture!) or that they understand Jackson Pollack paintings (just looks like my plate after a spaghetti dinner) or the way designers pretend the clothing hanging off a rail-thin model is something 99percent of the world's population might actually skip a double cheeseburger for.

Now, the mayor of that fashion mecca, Milan, is following suit, promising a similar weight restriction during that city's fashion shows.

So far there's no word on whether we'll be importing that weight ban here. But, I might suggest a more American approach. I say, let those wafer-thin waifs strut their stuff, or lack of it. But they should have to wear sashes with the warning: ``The Surgeon General has found that the clothing I'm wearing only looks good on women who live on a diet of food aromas and lettuce leaves. Plus, it's really itchy and costs a fortune in dry cleaning bills.''

Now, there's a warning I can heed.