My reading schedule didn’t go exactly as planned in Cabo; that being said, I did manage to get a fair amount read. The Unbearable Lightness of Being (a bit heavy for poolside reading, but worth the read nonetheless), Choke (the only one on my vacation list), as well as Jay McInerney’s Story of My Life. Beginning the novel on the last couple days of the trip, I questioned if I would get it done, but I managed to finish in the tedium that is the customs line of the Denver airport. Having documented my interest in novels dealing with ’80s consumerism, I found this struck an interestingly different, albeit similar chord. Something along the lines of astute and investigative, rather than reactionary.
From the get-go, the novel centers through the general stream-of-consciousness of Allison Poole. Initially finding her to be quite vapid, my views on her slowly gravitated from vapidity towards a sense of shrewdness of the world around her. Questionably immoral? Maybe, but where’s the fun in morality. That being said, her inner voice is hilarious. Because I feel may have strayed a bit from the conjunction of fashion and literature, I’ve chosen to compile a list of Allison’s better fashion examinations of the world around her. While these little blurbs slow flashes of her quick-wit, do not be quick to judge the level of political correctness. This was the late ’80s, not 2015, and last time I checked, people in this age could stand to calm down a bit, at any rate.
“[…] I felt like I’d done my bit spending about five hours on makeup and borrowing an Alaïa evening dress from Didi and emerald earrings from Jeannie. Granted, a salad’s not very sexy but it’s results that count, right? Any girls who gets invited out with any regularity and scarfs the paté and the tournedos and the mousse is eventually going to kill the goose that laid the golden egg, you know. […] . . . I mean Alaïa doesn’t make those sexy dresses in size fourteen.”
“[…] isn’t it interesting that Jeannie’s dressed to kill? A few hours ago she’s all set to go to bed, and now she’s in black cashmere and hose. Plus we should’ve bought stock in Chanel before she started in on her face tonight. […] Jeannie and Francesca wouldn’t think of going out of the house without a thousand bucks worth of fabric on their backs. Jeannie has this expensive WASP look and Francesca’s dressed as usual, sort of the expensive-flooze chic — sequins and cleavage — which actually does suit her. I mean, if you’re pushing size 12 and headed for a D cup, you might as well go for it.”
“I went out with this male model once, the guy had more Chanel makeup than I do, that was creepy. Most guys’ bathrooms are strange, though, even when they’re disgusting they have a sort of impersonal, unlived-in feeling.”
“He has rotten skin, the pores on his nose are like the potholes on Second Avenue, you could lose a cab in one of those things. Real attractive, right? He’s wearing this incredibly tacky diamond ring and a giant Rolex. If I had to list my favorite things, jewelry on men would be right up there at the top.”
“At seven Jeannie says it’s time to get dressed and helps me pick out my outfit, basic black, leather skirt from Fiorucci and a Kamali silk top, fishnet stockings, killer pumps from Bennis and Edwards that I borrowed from Didi a few months back. You’re be raped on the street Jeannie says after she checks me out. I go, can’t rape the willing.”
References
Livre de la Mode 
