Living where I do, and Amazon being what it is, I'll get it some time next month, by which time I will probably have seen most of it online and be sick to death of it.
Already, I'm wondering why I felt such a strong compulsion to buy it. I don't find it hard to resist fashion magazines. I don't believe that there is one 'formula' that will make each and every one of us suddenly chic. And yet here I am, buying into the seductive myth ...
If I just buy this book, get the right pair of white jeans (so practical when you live with children, dogs and cats), the right navy cashmere sweater (forget that navy doesn't suit me) and the right ballet flats, I too will look like a tall, thin, glamorous French model with amazingly long legs. Or her 17-year-old daughter. Except I won't, will I? I'll look like me in jeans and a jumper.
I have been known to say I'd like to be Ines when I grow up. Up is probably the operative word. At 5'4", the best I'm ever going to manage is gamine ... Is there even such thing as a grown-up gamine?
