Wakefield Press is pitching this title as a nonfiction memoir, and it certainly reads autobiographically enough to justify it, but it should appeal at least as much, if not more, to a YA audience—particularly teenage girls who identify with the main character’s overriding sense of alienation. It’s a detailed account sure to satisfy those who want to know what life is really like for models—what they eat, where they live, whether the parties are really that mad (and the scene in the bathroom after a run in with a particularly ‘spunky’ rock star will surely have readers wondering, when they catch their breath between giggles, just how embellished a memoir this is)—and is generally well structured with a strong narrative drive. That said, there are a few notable weaknesses: a couple of abrupt moments when the point of view suddenly and inexplicable shifts, and some very twee letters that are grossly guilty of telling-not-showing. But overall I really enjoyed ‘Justin’s’ story, sympathising with her loss of identity, along with the ‘e’ in her name. A book for readers who want their angst laced with humour and sliced up with calorie-counting.

Rose Michael is the editor of AB&P

This review from Australian Bookseller & Publisher magazine is reproduced by kind permission of Thorpe-Bowker, a division of R R Bowker LLC. © Copyright 2004, Thorpe-Bowker