Maggie Alderson

As a big fan of Maggie's column in the Good Weekend, I couldn't resist picking this up. Her column is a wonderful blend of fashion, humour and philosohpy of life so I expected similar here. I was a little disappointed on the first page to discover it was about a journalist and her fickle love life, but I needn't have worried. This is a thoroughly modern girl and despite the formulaic nature of the plot she did win me over. I won't spoil the ending, you'll be guessing right to the end who she show more will end up with, if anyone. The addition of architectural themes and the rich family life she portrays somehow lift it from the usual pulp fiction. But make no mistake, this is total escapism, not much more to it than that. show less

Everything Changes But You (which immediately makes me think of the Take That song, check it out if you are too young to remember that Robbie was in a band once) is the kind of chick lit you can take comfort in. By that, I mean that you know the story will be engaging, the characters quirky and individual and that you’ll be taken on a fun ride that won’t demand the same amount of brain cells that say, quantum physics does. I’m still trying to work out exactly who the character is in show more the novel that doesn’t change but it’s a good book, excellent for holiday reading.

I was a bit disappointed in Maggie Alderson’s previous book, Shall We Dance? because I felt it moved towards ‘mummy-lit’ with its older central character and problems with university-aged children. I’m pleased to say that I enjoyed Everything Changes But You a lot more – the main character, Hannah, still has a husband and a family, but they’re a lot younger. Hannah also has the requisite job in beauty editing (I love reading about jobs like that, they always sound so glamorous) and a bit of family money. Her husband Matt is a struggling songwriter and expat Aussie, trying to work all night while she works all day. It doesn’t really seem to work and after a change in circumstances, the couple and their two children move to a storybook English village. But the trouble doesn’t end there – there’s family, fidelity and financial issues.

The supporting characters are also delightful, annoying and frustrating in turn. Ali is Matt’s Australian cousin, off on the big London adventure. She’s charming and brings a youthful eye to things. Her previous job as a lap dancer didn’t really fit into the novel all that well I thought, but it’s a minor point. Anthea is Hannah’s mum’s neighbour – a delightfully busybody English stereotype. Her appearances always brought out a wry grin from me as she attempted to control absolutely everything. Finally, Pete is Matt’s Aussie co-songwriter – a cliché of the Aussie stereotype (especially in regard to the word ‘mate’ or should I say ‘maaaaaaate’?) He’s kind of likeable, but also kind of annoying because you know exactly what will happen to him.

Which brings me to the ending – it wasn’t terribly original, but it was the ending that I was probably hoping for. It is just open ended enough to have a sequel, but brings enough closure to end the story there and then. I could have also done with a few more beauty details besides the sparkly mascara, but there was enough description of clothes and shoes to please the majority of fashionistas.

It’s a really well written chick lit that fans in both Australia and the UK will enjoy. Just don’t expect too many changes to the classic formula and it’s a lovely read.

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There was a time before the financial crisis and the Great Recession when these "chick-lit" books were everywhere. Everyone wanted to read about the ultra-rich, luxury, designer fashions, fabulous shoes, exotic destinations that ordinary people would never see but could read about vicariously in books like these. Then - financial Armageddon! Suddenly no one wanted to read anything about the evil One Percenters, unless it was to find out they were being sent to prison. And the chick-lit genre show more mostly ground to a halt.

I still enjoy a good chick-lit story, and pick them up occasionally when I come across them in a thrift shop or library book sale, where I got Cents and Sensibility. I especially liked the description of Stella's chaotic family life, thanks to her womanizing father's 6 wives and the "half-siblings, step-siblings, semi-steps and former steps and stepmothers". There was just something appealing about the huge family homes with everyone piling in and out at random, presided over by the larger-than-life Henry Montecourt-Fain. Really fun.

These books may be dated, but the best of the British chick-lit books were even better than the American ones, and I enjoyed Cents and Sensibility. If these sorts of books make you want to fling them across the room, don't read them, but if you like them, this is a good one. show less

Ah, fun fluff! It didn't completely answer the questions on the back (Q: [why will] some people spend $6,000 on a handbag? A: because they're insane), but it was a good way to spend a couple of hours.

I'd previously read Handbag Heaven by Maggie Alderson, and I think some of the essays were in both books (either that, or I'd read them earlier in the newspaper).

And this time around, I did have a few moments of "yes!!!!". Especially as to why one wears black: because one is a grot, and black show more doesn't show up the stains. (Mistrust those who can wear white. They must've signed a pact with the devil.) And I want to be a Mad Aunt too! show less