This is a review for the ladies - specifically, for the mid-20s ladies, the ones who went to great colleges and had big dreams and couldn't wait to get out there and start their totally fabulous lives, except, oops, that's actually a lot harder than it sounds when you're 21 and it's senior spring and you're drinking Trader Joe's wine on the stoop.
After reading this book, I had one of my first pangs of Kindle regret since purchasing the device a little over a year ago. Girls in White Dresses is the type of book that I wish I could drop in the mail to one of my college roommates, with explicit instructions to pass it on to the next lady in our little cluster after finishing. This book doesn't follow a traditional "and then, and then, and then, happy ending" plot; instead, it presents us with moments from the characters' lives. We see the publishing assistant at a small firm flail when her company folds. We see the "I'm not really a waitress" concede that her industry isn't going to revive and, yes, for the moment she is a waitress, and that's okay. We see their relationships, like the safe guy that you stay with because he just looks right, but you don't feel the mad crazy love for him, or the guy that you're more than a little ashamed of, so you hide the fact that you're with him, and you feel dirty even thinking about it. It all works because it's all real. These characters are me, are my friends, are the people I still talk to every day. Close doesn't give us a plot, but she gives us ourselves, carefully crafting a novel about what it means to grow up.
We are in our mid - okay, or our late - 20s, and no matter how much we fight and flail, we're growing steadily closer to that horrible line in the sand: 30. How did we get here? How did we get so far away from those dreamers, sitting on the stoop on 113th street? We're adults, now, or we're trying to be, and that's complicated and frustrating, but also exhilarating and beautiful. And Close captures all of that and more in this novel.
So if you can remember giggling with your girlfriends instead of writing your final paper; dancing to "Sexyback" and swigging champagne straight from the bottle and smoking out the dorm room window; sleeping with stupid boys but promising ourselves that we'd look for the right one as soon as we graduated; and dreaming that something out there holds something bigger and brighter... this is the book for you. Read it now. And then grab some wine, throw on a circa-2005 mix CD, and dance it out. I promise you'll feel better.