"Well, not no carbs. Just a lot less than usual. Chicken, fish, spinach. Carrots are really good."
"I don't like carrots."
Sims shrugs off the carrot-diss as if it were a harmless jab. "No potatoes," she continues. "No rice, no bread, no pasta."
"It's called the supermodel diet."
"I'm male, don't forget."
Sniggering, she dons 12-ounce gloves and takes a couple of perfunctory swipes at a heavy bag stenciled with the names and caricatures of Tito's recent opponents. Above a drawing of a cat is written: "Kitten Vargas: MIAUUU." A sketch of a hen bears the legend "Chicken de la Hoya." The Vanderbilt University alum seems determined not to become Goldfish Sims. Climbing through the ropes, she jabbers and swaggers and does a few minutes of shadowboxing for the camera.
Her eyes blaze with a look that says: "Tito won't know what he is fighting. How could he? He has fought some good champions, but not in their prime, not like me. I am ready for whatever he throws at me. If he wants to box, I will box. If he wants a war, I will give him one." On second thought, maybe her look isn't saying anything.
Rarely have two styles clashed so strikingly in the ring. Trinidad favors classic Latino patriot-wear—spangled shirts and trunks of red, white and blue. Sims's ensemble is basic black and white—a devastating combination one ringside fashionista describes as "street edgy-slash-vintage chic."