monamd 's review for:

Shopaholic to the Stars by Sophie Kinsella
5.0

It’s two weeks later. And I live in Hollywood. I, Becky Brandon, née Bloomwood, live in Hollywood. I live in Hollywood! I keep saying it out loud to myself, to see if it feels any more real. But it still feels like I’m saying, ‘I live in fairyland.’

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The most amazing thing is the views. Every night we sit on our balcony and look at all the twinkling lights of Hollywood, and I feel as if we’re in a dream.
It’s a weird place, LA. I can’t quite get a grip on it. It’s not like European cities, where you get to the centre and think, Ah yes, here I am in Milan/Amsterdam/Rome. In LA you drive around endless great big roads and you peer out of the windows and think, ‘Are we there yet?’

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I mean, here we are in LA. The home of celebrities. They’re the local natural phenomenon. Everyone knows you come to LA to see the celebrities, like you go to Sri Lanka to see the elephants.

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As I head back out to Rodeo Drive, I feel a swoosh of exhilaration as the warm spring air hits me. I’m going to love living in LA, I just know it. Everything people say about it is true. The sun shines and the people have super-white teeth and the mansions look like film sets. I’ve looked at several houses for rent and they all have pools. It’s as if a pool is a normal thing, like a fridge.
The street around me simply glistens with glamour. It’s lined with expensive, shiny shopfronts and perfect palm trees and rows of luxurious-looking cars.

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What have I got? Oh my God, I’ll be in the Daily Mail health pages. My one-in-a-million heart condition was picked up in a simple store exercise test. Shopping saved my life, says Rebecca Brandon—

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‘You’d be attracted to me “if it weren’t for the cardigan”,’ he echoes at last.
‘Of course!’ I say, reassuringly. ‘I’d probably get infatuated, just like those clients of yours. Unless there were any other amazing clothes to compete with,’ I add, for honesty’s sake. ‘I mean, like a Chanel suit with ninety-nine per cent off. I don’t think any man could beat that!’ I give a little laugh, but Kai’s face has gone a bit rigid.

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‘My name is Danny Kovitz –yes, the Danny Kovitz –thank you –and I am here today to recommend Rebecca Brandon as a personal shopper without parallel. Where there is disaster she will find style. Where there is blah, she will find a look. Where there is …um—’He breaks off, pulls a piece of paper out of his jeans pocket and consults it. ‘Yes! Where there is misery she will find happiness. Not just fashion happiness, all-round happiness.’He takes a step towards Gayle, who looks a bit shell-shocked. ‘You want Rebecca Brandon in your store.

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Imagine having that job. Working on films; choosing outfits for actors; styling stars for appearances … Forget department stores, I should aim higher! That’s the job I should have. I mean, it’s perfect. I love clothes, I love films, I’m moving to LA … why didn’t I think of this before?

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So at last I tear myself away, my mind whirling with fantasies. A darkened cinema. My name rolling down the screen in white letters.

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His sympathy hits a nerve in me. Is that what he thinks? I mean, I know it’s the truth, but it shouldn’t be what he thinks. Husbands should think the best of their wives, as a matter of principle.

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We’re standing on the stars. The Hollywood Walk of Fame, which I’ve seen a million times on TV, but never for real. I feel as though Luke has put it there especially as a present for me, all shiny and pink.

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For a while I do nothing but dart backwards and forwards, looking for famous names. This is the most Hollywoody thing we’ve done yet, and I don’t care that we’re being total saddo tourists.

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I haven’t come to LA for the ‘healthy outdoor lifestyle’, I’ve come for the ‘celebrity-big-sunglasses-red-carpet lifestyle’.

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I’ve been married to Luke so long, I know his expressions off by heart, and this one is number 3: How do I break it to Becky that I hate this idea? It’s exactly the same expression he had when I suggested painting our bedroom purple.

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This is another of Luke’s expressions I’m familiar with. It means: ‘How am I going to break this to Becky without her overreacting?’
(Which is very unfair, because I never overreact.)

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‘Anyway, Golden Peace is an American place.’ I suddenly think of a winning argument. ‘I’m British. So.’
Luke looks perplexed. ‘So what?’
‘So, it wouldn’t work,’ I say patiently. ‘If I had issues, which I don’t, they’d be British issues. Totally different.’

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I cannot arrive at our first day at LA pre-school with Minnie singing ‘Idiot American driver’.
‘Idiot American dri-ver …’ She’s getting louder and louder. ‘Idiot American driiiiii-ver …’
Could I pretend it’s a quaint old British nursery rhyme?
No.

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The only tiny positive is, there’s a shop. At least I can buy souvenirs for everyone.

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‘Drink tea, Daddy!’ says Minnie sternly, and Luke puts his cocktail glass to his lips obediently. I wonder what all his board members in London would say if they could see him now.

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‘Thanks.’ I put an arm around him and kiss him. ‘You’re the most digna-dive person I know.’
Luke clicks his heels and bows like an Austrian prince, and I laugh again. I truly do have the best husband in the world. And I’m not biased at all.

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The flashes are like strobe lighting. The clamour is extraordinary. And all because Meryl Streep has arrived.
Well, OK. Fair enough. No one can compete with Meryl Streep.

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This is exactly what I imagined Hollywood would be like. Lots of people in amazing dresses, and Meryl Streep, and a band playing smooth jazz, and delicious citrussy cocktails.

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There are several directors’ chairs with names printed on the backs of them and I look at them lustfully. I would die to have a chair with my name on it. My mind is suddenly seized with an image of a chair reading: Becky Brandon, Wardrobe Designer. Just imagine if I started working in movies and I got my name on the back of a chair! I wouldn’t ever want to stand up. I’d walk around with my chair stapled to me.

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I wouldn’t mind having a trailer, I find myself thinking idly. Imagine if, everywhere you went in life, there was a little trailer waiting for you to go and relax in whenever you felt like it.
Imagine taking a trailer shopping. God, yes! You could put all your bags in it, and have a little rest, and make yourself a cup of tea

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But Hollywood is a tough place for the twenty-first-century actress, and she learns to look on every other star as an enemy. Apparently actresses compete over roles, men, ad campaigns and even plastic surgeons. They set up camps like royal courts and become paranoid about their competitors, even those they’re ‘friends’ with.

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‘Another bag, Becky?’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘I thought the bag you bought at the weekend was so perfect you would use it for ever and it would be your signature look and people would call you “The Girl with the Lara Bohinc Bag”?’
I feel a dart of righteous indignation. Husbands should not memorize conversations, word for word. It’s against the whole spirit of marriage.

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Minnie is obsessed with flowers at the moment, which she calls ‘schlowers’. She weeps if Luke won’t wear his one-and-only ‘schlowers’ tie, so he puts it on every morning and then takes it off again in the car.

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‘I’ll be punished and then I’ll be forgiven. That’s how Hollywood operates.’

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The thing is, this is what Hollywood is like and you just have to get used to it. Yes, it seems completely freaky and messed up at first, but gradually it starts to feel more normal. They’re right. It is all a game. Everyone’s playing it, the stars, the journalists, the public, everyone. And if you don’t want to play, maybe you shouldn’t come to Hollywood.

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‘Darling, I don’t want to rain on your parade – but don’t believe every word Aran says. He’s a great guy, but he just says whatever the conversation of the moment seems to require. Maybe he believes it, maybe he doesn’t. It’s the Hollywood way.’

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What’s happening to my life? Ever since that awards evening when everything kicked off, I’ve felt like I’m living in a kaleidoscope. It’s whizzing around, making different patterns every moment, and as soon I get used to one, it shifts again. Why can’t things stay the same for just one second?

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But life can’t be about holding on to the bad things. It has to be about grabbing on to the good things and letting the bad things go.

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‘Maybe …’ I swallow. ‘Maybe you were right. Maybe I am a bit lost.’
For a moment Luke doesn’t say anything. Those intense, dark eyes of his meet mine and it’s as though we don’t have to talk. He can sense it all.
‘I was brooding about that all the way to New York,’ he says finally, his voice deep and gravelly. ‘And then it hit me. I’m your husband. If you’re lost, it’s up to me to come and find you.’
‘Well … here I am,’ I manage, a lump suddenly in my throat, and Luke sweeps me into his arms.

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I reach for his hand and clasp it tight. I never expected to see Luke here. Not in a million years. His hand is warm and firm and feels like it’s anchoring me. I never want to let it go.