I read a lot of chick lit but I thoroughly disliked this novel. I don't understand what was so humorous about this novel about WAGs (wives and girlfriends of famous sportspeople). Cringe-worthy till the last but anyway let's dive in.
You can take the WAG out of Luton but you can't take Luton out of the WAG. Tracie Martin is back! But this time everyone's favourite WAG is in LA, City of Angels.
Whilst husband Dean swaps life on the subs bench for coaching the LA City Raiders and daughter Paskia-Rose is busy settling into her new school, Tracie is left twiddling her manicured fingers.
It seems LA's not ready for WAGs - the women are naturally golden rather than fake bake orange, there's no boozing and everyone is thinner than her. Surely that's not possible when she last ate a proper meal in 1997? But at least there's plenty of cosmetic surgery.
Enter Jamie, a knight in shining lycra. He'll show Tracie the sights of LA - including the Beckhams. But is he all that he seems? Before long, Tracie is sampling all the city has to offer.
But then her long-lost father turns up - at the same time as she discovers someone has stolen her identity. Can Tracie leave LA with her pride, bank balance and marriage intact?
This book generally made women quite slutty in the clothing department and stupid in the brainy department. This form of stereotyping was NOT - AND I REPEAT NOT - in the least bit funny. But to each his own. Otherwise it's a light-hearted read that lacked any wow factor.
No comments:
Post a Comment