The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger (2006, Paperback, Reprint)

I read this book basically to see why there was so much fuss about it. The movie was coming out and there was some not so discreet buzz that Vogue editor-in-chief, Anna Wintour, was the model for the book's boss from hell, Miranda Priestly. Naturally, one would be intrigued.

Once I got into the meat of the book, I was disappointed. The litany of Miranda Priestly outrages pile up tediously and you get it, yes, she's an unreasonable, cold blooded she-demon in designer clothes. The draw of the book is the way it slams the fashion industry and influential people like Ms. Wintour, ahem, Miranda Priestly. And, sadly, we all love a good slam.

I wish this book was more of a guilty pleasure, but far too soon I felt dragged down by the harping on a superficial theme with mediocre writing. It's a superficial book about superficiality.

Although the book tries to pretend otherwise the trod-upon heroine of the book, Andrea, has a superficial arc: she learns to dress better. She's essentially the same person as at the beginning and pretty much spends the whole book knowing she needs to quit the job, but she leaves it with a better fashion sense. And maybe this is enough to ask of one the trademark "chick lit" books so prevalent out there now, but it wasn't enough for me.

Author Lauren Weisberger presents Andrea in the first person as she chronicles her experiences at "Runway" magazine and let's us know she is a writer of talent. Except her writing proves otherwise, it's often awkward and feels adolescent.

It's enjoyed best on the level of a giggle at the expense of the ridiculous pretensions of the fashion industry and people who max out their credit cards on one-season Manolos and Birken bags. I give it two meh's and a hee.