Oh my God, I hate this book. It's all about a woman with impulse control issues who keeps burying herself further and further in debt while refusing to take any sort of control or responsibility for her life. I suppose that I am supposed to find this all charming and whimsical, but I just don't see it.
Rebecca Bloomwood is the shopaholic in question. Every new chapter features a letter from her creditors. Neat! It's just like depressing real life. Unlike most sane adults, Becky chooses to ignore these letters. Her greatest wish is that someone else will receive her bills by mistake and just pay them for her. Until then, Becky just keeps buying crap and not making any payments.
In a truly shocking twist, Becky works as a journalist at Successful Savings magazine. A financial expert who is in extreme debt! Isn't it ironic? Don't you think? She schemes to fix her problems, from spending less to making more money. Lots of cringetastic shenanigans occur.
Then there is the boy. Luke Brandon is some big finance guy that seems all impressed with her for...some reason I don't know. It's the plot, I guess. Unfortunately, he's attached. She goes on a date with her roommate's cousin after, and only after finding out he's a millionaire. She wants to make herself fall in love with the guy to get out of debt, which is what prostitutes do.
Anyways, there is a typical happy ending. It's unearned. Some magical solution just shows up and solves all the problems. Plus, I know that she hasn't learned her lesson since there are a bunch of dumb Shopaholic sequels after this one, which I will not be reading unless I feel like raging against something. Same goes for the movie adaptation!
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