The bright blue green cover of Bergdorf Blondes entices the reader to plunge into the world of Park Avenue princesses, where a Brazilian is considered the mark of sophistication (and "going to Rio" is something girls should live for), and flying in a private jet for a weekend jaunt in the French Riviera is the way to go. But the protagonist of this novel is not a blonde herself. She has to work to support her addiction to Chloe jeans. But ‘careers,’ as far as princesses go, are but amusing distractions while you go about trying to get engaged to men with their own brown signs and jealous wives.
It has all the symptoms of chicklit. But all told, Bergdorf Blondes is a very fast, very light read—I finished it in one night. I’m not sure though if I’ll dive into that corner of the bookshelf often. I’m not inclined to read the Shopaholic books, and I really cannot be bothered to join the waiting lists for Birkin bags, nor am I likely to spend 60k for an LV purse. I’m likely to pick up the habit of exfoliating twice a week or reading the product packages to see whether ‘alcohol denat’ is high up in the ingredients list, but that’s it for me.
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