Somewhere between a starvation diet and letting your weight go unchecked, "there is a middle ground," according to Vicky Klibansky, leader of Georgetown's T.O.P.S. Club. "A lot of people give up on themselves," Klibansky said, when the promises of quick-fix diets fail to materialize. The missing ingredient in these diets, which makes the real difference in effective weight control, is the steady support of others.

If you haven't heard of T.O.P.S., that is partly because it is a non-profit group that doesn't advertise much. If the message its acronym contains | Take Off Pounds Sensibly | sounds too earnest for TV commercials, the focus on substance rather than flash is part of the point, and a main element in the group's appeal. At the Georgetown T.O.P.S. club meeting last week, co-leader Michelle Muise described her preference for the "normal" people in T.O.P.S. as opposed to the images of perfection promoted by leaders at commercial weight-loss groups.

Last week's session marked the Georgetown chapter's 25th anniversary, an achievement that was celebrated with a review of club history read by Treasurer Ginny Tortorelli. The national club was founded in 1948 in Milwaukee by Esther Manz, who was pregnant with her fifth child and attending classes, led by physicians, in which women were counseled on how to control their weight. Manz saw the power of mutual support as a tool for reaching those goals. The club she was inspired to found combined the two elements | expert advice and group encouragement | to address weight management beyond the conditions of child-bearing.

Former club member Sharon Pulkkinen attended last week's meeting. She was at the first meeting in Georgetown 25 years ago, when the chapter was formed by Georgetown residents who had been in the Haverhill chapter. The original meeting was in Town Hall, and moved across Andover Street to the First Congregational Church when the membership grew. Though Pulkkinen says that "at this point I'm not a member" of T.O.P.S., she said "I feel like I am," acknowledging the bonds that "develop in all these meetings."

That support system was in full effect last week as the members took turns revealing their weight gains or losses for the week, and no matter which way their weight had gone, they were met with a round of applause. This in turn elicited such statements addressed to the whole room as, "I couldn't have done it without you." Even where members had slid back from reaching their goal weight, the resolve to keep trying was couched in terms of gratitude. One member expressed her determination, saying, "I'm worth it, and everyone in this room is worth it."

Klibansky said weight goals should be set in consultation with a physician, where the emphasis is on "good health." Since being healthy usually entails a pleasant appearance, the latter is viewed as a byproduct of the former, rather than an end goal in itself. Klibansky, a nurse with VNACare Network in Danvers, says that constructive information, such as letting people know that "just losing 10 or 20 pounds can result in a marked reduction of your susceptibility to diabetes or stroke," is more effective encouragement than a "harangue" directed at someone's appearance.

One of the few things the group sells is a $15 manual called "The Choice is Mine," which is updated every few weeks with nutritional information, healthy recipes and suggestions for calorie-burning activities. Nutrition is taught through an exchange program fostered by the American Diabetes Association, which uses the nutritional label on every package of food to count the caloric value of portions from different food groups. Menus in the manual help create meals that combine or exchange portions, and thereby set health needs in line with weight loss goals. T.O.P.S. gives members information that points them toward the right choices, then respects their ability to make them. The process embodies respect, which is felt and shared by every member of the group, adding to motivation for self-improvement.

In keeping with last week's meeting's historical perspective, Leona Preble read a list of prices comparing the Georgetown club's first year, 1982, with the present: Gas was 91 cents a gallon, the minimum wage was $3.75, a first-class stamp cost 21 cents. But membership in T.O.P.S., which was $20 then, is only $24 now. Weekly dues have doubled | from 50 cents to $1. Klibansky said the point is that a company or business isn't going to make the best health choices for an individual, or provide help, information and support once the person has paid. "We're the ones that create our future," she said.