This book is by one of those Vogue writers who update us every month on the latest bikini waxing trends and which $15,000.00 Hermes bag we should get on the waiting list to buy, all in this breathless, faux fish-out-of-water tone that gets a little grating when you realize you read one of these articles every month.
I love the title of this book: The Debutante Divorcee. It is a chick lit book about divorce among very rich housewives in New York; its premise is basically that being divorced from a very rich man is even more fun than being married to one. I like reading about rich people. I think everyone does. It’s soothing.
I was sort of disappointed that this book was not trashy enough. Our ingenue of a heroine never even gets divorced! And the main debutante divorcee in the book — who seemed sort of exciting and Dynasty-esque in the begininning — turns out to have a heart of gold as well. I thought that romance novels were supposed to be cheesy and melodramatic! I am no expert, I guess. But I would have enjoyed a little more Aaron Spelling-style (“No man takes me to bed and the cleaners in the same day!”) dialogue.
