Bloody hell, pals. This book is sweet and silly, smart and serious. I would highly recommend.
I don't read an awful lot of auto-biographical stuff but I knew of Dolly already, through her PanDolly and High-Low podcasts with Pandora Sykes and her amusing dating column in the Sunday Times. And when it popped up on NetGalley, I wanted it. I wanted it real bad. So, yes: this is a NetGalley freebie but thoughts are my own, of course: what is the point otherwise?
So. Everything I Know About Love. That title isn't really a misnomer, not exactly, but it does set you up to think that it's about capital L Love - you know, Carrie Bradshaw's ridiculous, all-consuming, can't-live-without-it Love. But Dolly herself would be the first person to tell you that she has very little experience of that Love, actually. (Pun intended.) Would she like more? Yes. But has she been without love? That's a definite no there, my friend. This book is full of love, in its wild and various guises, but it shines most brightly in Dolly's over-whelming and supportive (but not always healthy) love for her friends, a tight knit group of woman who live with, live for, fight with and fight for each other. I won't lie; I was very jealous. Dolly, her best friend Farley and their extended group of wonderful women have something very special - and Dolly never, ever forgets that.
I was eager for this book, you know. I was hungry. And I gulped it all up in three big bites, staying up later than I really should to finish it off. I think the fun here for me was, admittedly, partly because because Dolly and I are both English and close in age. There were many similarities for us, although she is definitely a lot posher. I don't mind saying that I'm a bit older than her, so I did miss some of those cultural things, especially the pure sheer devotion to local MSN - I used it, too, but I talked to people in America who were a little ahead of us here. But there's always interest for me in people who started to come of age as the internet did. (That's probably self-absorbed, but there it is.)
And you know how they always say that New York is the fifth character in Sex and the City? Well, if London isn't a main role here, it was definitely a scene-stealing extra, popping up frequently and joyfully. Having lived in London for almost fifteen years now, I feel like the city was beautifully painted, mostly via a vividly ramshackle Camden Town.
The reoccurring lists in this book were a real highlight for me. Dolly writes a literal list of what she knows about love at different ages and, my god, if they weren't exactly the lists I would have written at the same times. If they haven't aged and mellowed just like I have. If they haven't sharpened and become less likely to take your bullshit just like I have. They were perfect, truly.
And one last thing I wanted to mention: Dolly writes a beautiful meditation on the difference between intensity and intimacy that left me reeling. A crazy, all-consuming relationship she has almost entirely over text which ends in a flurry of drama felt almost rude, the way it was pointing a big finger straight at me. I saw myself there and it made me put my Kindle down, as I was laying in bed next to the love of my life, and think about just that. I have been there, Dolly, I have lived that existence, confusing intimacy and intensity, trying to stretch the fizz of excitement into something more sustainable. But champagne goes flat and what you're left with after the bubbles have gone isn't entirely palatable. I loved it at the time and I'm so glad it's over. Thank you for writing about it so wonderfully, Dolly. Thanks for the wild ride.