Oh man, this is not for me, clearly.
This is not a book to get back to reading after a sabbatical (more than 30 days. And don't take that lightly, that's an eon in reading time) that was triggered by a chain of uninspiring books. What can I say? I am bad at decision making.
Anyways, I can’t connect with these characters. They are flat, with no personality whatsoever. All they seem to do is bicker, drink, smoke and sleep around. Of course one cannot expect anything different, seeing that the setting is the world of fashion. But still.
I also can’t stand the detailed description of the clothing and accessories. I mean I loved Devil wears Prada, THE MOVIE and am from a creative field myself and appreciate good art but this is fucking over the top. It would work well for a movie script.
This is where my wisdom tells me to drop this book for good, at 23%-
... "Your skin's so soft," he mumbled as he began to nuzzle her neck. "You smell like a fucking baby."
There’s nothing wrong with the expletives, even if used in association with babies and other innocent things. We all often do sometimes, without really meaning them. But talking here is a guy, with an incredible hard on, while making a move on his sleeping partner.
WHAT. THE. FART.
So do I stop there? No.
Having given up on reading with so many hopeless stories to blame for the almost complete lack of interest, I picked up this book. So I want to give this book a second chance. I mean there is a love triangle, as much I hate those, I hope that the other character would make up for my suffering with two flat MCs. Nope, the third one also had to be wrought from the same pile of shit.
Fuck this review. Here’s a gist to save you some time.
At 14, Heartbroken Elodie looks to modeling to distract her from all the pain.
At 19, she is struggling to make it big in NY, constantly smoking, drinking and sleeping around to climb up the professional ladder and basically not being a good example for teenagers. I am not being judgmental but she is confused about what she wants in life. Doing the above said things she is pretty hypocritical about her competitors. Her paranoia wears me out.
And somewhere in all that mess, Tyler happens. She’s like He’s cute. He’s hot-cute. He’s like she’s cute. She’s innocent-cute. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. DON’T BRING THAT SHIT INTO THIS. AM GOING TO EXPLODE. IF ANYTHING I HATE MORE THAN MANWHORE GUYS. IT IS MANWHORE GUYS THAT GET TURNED ON BY VIRGINITY/INNOSCENCE/WIDE EYED-SPACED OUT LOOKS.
So curbing my impatience, I skim some.
And then James happens. Same deal. She’s like He’s cute. He’s like she’s cute. Notice that these are just assessments of cuteness only, I decide to stick around. I mean, it is not exactly promising if the two of them are brought together by each other’s looks alone, but still the meet-cute tells me that I can hang on to this to turn into something more.
There are moments like these which make me ask whatever am I doing with this book-
What was it about him that made her so unnerved? Speaking of which, she only had eight and a half hours to get ready for her date. How would she ever get ready in time?
Come on, You’re a model. You have a closet that’s worth my entire… my what...? Never mind. And you don’t have much else to do in the next EIGHT AND A HALF HOURS. Go figure.
Elodie left the two lovebirds to their carbs as she went back to her room to ready herself for a hectic day. She didn't bother to shower, choosing instead to gather her rumpled hair into a messy ponytail while leaving her face bare. Her all-black blasé outfit du jour consisted of a Free People slip dress and Isabel Marant ankle boots, accompanied by a giant pair of Prada sunglasses.
Then everything goes to shit. There’s cheating or something of the nature, insecurity, ficlemindedness and I know I should not have given my time to this book for this is going nowhere with this drama continuing into two more books.
And there’s no redeeming quality- Humor. None. At all.
Now tell me, a few days sabbatical feels very right, yes?