February was full of memoirs, as well as a scandalous unauthorized biography and a novel that has a link to said biography.
I bought this book as it was name checked by Cat Marnell in her own memoir. She wrote that the editrix of Vogue‘s rumored affair, as mentioned in Front Row, with the reggae legend was “swag.” As I enjoyed her other recommendation, Free Gift with Purchase, a memoir of former Lucky beauty editor Jean Godfrey June, I took her reference and bought this book.
The content was juicy. It was not well written.
I re-read #fashionvictim for the third time in February. Though it is not a memoir, I cannot help but think pieces of this book stem from reality. The author has experience in the publishing world, as she was the executive editor of Elle.com, fashion editor of New York magazine (The Cut, anyone?), and digital editions editor at Vogue.
#fashionvictim could best be described as the love child between The Devil Wears Prada and American Psycho. If you like one or both of them, you will enjoy Amina Akhtar’s entry. I found myself looking forward to picking up the book every evening and every Pamper Pirate naptime.
Also, it influenced me to buy some Jennifer Fisher jewelry.
I admit, I bought Giuliana Rancic’s memoir after reading the excerpts about how a certain one of her famous ex-boyfriends absolutely did her dirty. I wanted to read more dirt.
I loved reading about her time as a youth in Naples, Italy. It just so happens that I spent a few years of my adolescence in the same city, though I was not native. I knew she had also come of age in the greater DC area, and used to pass her father’s tailor shop [DePandi’s, now located on Wisconsin on the old Rodeo Drive of DC] every day on the way to work.
Giuliana Rancic uses her platform to spread awareness for breast cancer, being a survivor herself. She shares her joy in her marriage and as a mother to Duke. I most enjoyed the way she recounted her professional route from University of Maryland graduate to E! anchor, and how she never seems to take herself too seriously.
I spent a Sunday morning in the guest bedroom with a few mugs of coffee, just ingesting Going Off Script.
I am not really sure why I bought TMI: My Life in Scandal. Perhaps Giuliana’s memoir left me wanting more juice.
I blew through this within four days. Really, no takeaways.
I read You’ll Never Blue Ball in This Town Again for the second time. I am so glad I revisited it, as Heather McDonald’s memoir is hilarious. As promised by the asterisk, many of her anecdotes are cringeworthy, so much so that I felt secondhand embarrassment.