This book confused me a little bit. From what I’ve heard from others who’ve read it, they too had mistaken impressions about what the book would be like. Most people assume it will be a fluffy fun book about romances, dating, sex, etc, with some fabulous single women living it up and having hijinks… or whatever.

It’s actually quite a depressing and at times incredibly insightful collection of mini essays (articles, I guess is the story behind them) that paint a dark, disturbing picture about what it’s really like UNDERNEATH the parties, the drugs, the booze, the sex, the shoes, and the money. The weird thing is that I can’t tell if the startlingly jumpy “narrative” and the piecyness of it all is intentional or if it was an idiot savant like miracle. While a lot of it does nothing for me, there are parts where the effect is surprising and PROFOUND. It might be because who this books is about is SO far removed from me (younger and do not live in New York or even a big city) so I don’t really connect with it, but it might be because there isn’t much to connect with on a deeper level, I don’t know.

In short, not at all what I thought I was going to be reading, but probably better for it. I don’t know. Most people will probably be disappointed by the overall gritty, seedy, “real?” portrayal, and the fact that it’s not one cohesive story. Really it seems like the only thing the series has in common with this book is that some of the characters and settings are the same or similar.

Oh and there are NO BAD PUNS IN THIS BOOK. THANK HEAVEN.