The only good thing about this book is the premise, which is the reason I read it in the first place. Wedding season and the frequent reminders that you don't have a plus-one are a regular gamut run by single women in their thirties (ie well past your sell-by date). However, this book was just plain bad. In fact, they should have taken the premise off her.
The writer, and by extension the main character Polly, has zero insight. There is loads of fat-shaming and aristocrat-worshipping, and no one stops at any point to consider that hey, it's 2018 and the hive-mind of society is reconsidering these things! My suspicion that this book was actually written a long time ago and then sat mouldering in a drawer is heightened by the fact that Polly works at a print magazine with four to five employees but not a single person is worried about the death of print media. Equally, it appears to be a stand-in for Hello!, except I would imagine a publication of that magnitude would have employee numbers in the hundreds, not the less-than-tens. If that's what it's supposed to be, why does Peregrine want Polly to write 'hard-hitting' pieces, not screamingly-obsequious puff pieces? Why on earth would anyone who reads Hello! want to hear about posh BDSM parties? That is 1000% not their target audience, ffs.
Polly is described as a catch by everyone she meets, but I fail to understand why. She's a borderline alcoholic who lives in what sounds like a squat, doing the same job she got on leaving college, without any ambition to change it or even any idea what she would do instead. She lives on 500-calorie muffins (her description) and then laments that the free clothes she get from her job are a bit tight (they do fit though, just in case you thought she might actually be representing a non-standard body shape). She fat-shames without restraint and mental-illness-shames too, saying of Jasper's family that they should all be 'in an asylum'. Aside from the fact that residential care for serious cases of mental illness is no longer called 'asylum', the narrative doesn't even display why you would think that about his parents, who are a bit shouty and argumentative? And slow to get dressed, which is unsurprising given they HAVE SERVANTS - not something Polly cares to interrogate, preferring to focus on their imaginary mental disturbance.
Polly also blows off her best friend's engagement party for a date. She keeps forgetting her mother has cancer in favour of worrying about her love life - handily, the mother gets a sudden-onset boyfriend while ON CHEMO, after decades of widowhood, thus relieving Polly of the need to be a decent daughter in her mother's hour of need. It's a good thing romance novels come with a few standard plots (best friend secretly in love with you, for example) because this writer could not come up with one on her own. Even something as simple as describing a hen party with a nude model and a Mrs&Mrs Game - something you could lift from anecdotes of any hen party ever - leaves her flummoxed. Absolutely dire dialogue, charaterisation, plot - and the SEX SCENES. OMFG. They are not sexy. Polly is constantly reluctantly agreeing to scenarios she's not into and are never discussed because BOYFRIEND, and I'm supposed to think that's hot? 2018! 2018! This reads like it was written in 1998, which is maybe why Jilly Cooper liked it.