GUYS. Do you remember where you were on that fateful day? Of course you do. It was New Year’s Day, 2012, when the world was hit with the HUGE news story that Brandi Glanville had gotten married again.
Seriously though, did anyone even know that Brandi got married again for funsies? She implies that it was the first big news story in 2012 and the media coverage was relentless. I consider myself to be an embarrassingly good connoisseur of all things trashy and dumb, so if I don’t remember this, it couldn’t have been that big of a deal.
Anyway, Brandi and her male BFF decided they would get married as a joke when they were both sober on New Year’s Day in 2012. I can’t imagine this would’ve been ANYTHING but a publicity stunt as Brandi claims they never even consummated their marriage before getting it annulled, but she claims it was just hilarious and not at ALL for the attention.
This book is just… so odd. I don’t understand what it is supposed to be? It is an uneven mix of Brandi’s #datingblunders (some chapters are positively RIDDLED with hashtags, others have NONE), her advice and how-tos for meeting men and, of course, complaining about her divorce. The message she is trying to get across is also so confusing. Brandi goes on and on about how she is a self-sufficient woman who can take care of herself, thank you, in one chapter and then complains about not having a man around to take care of her. She moans about the fame whores and opportunists who try to date her to be on RHOBH, and then in the same breath says that you can use your male friends to take you out to dinner and pay for things.
After some more tales of dating (they really just aren’t that interesting without a Brendan Fraiser shout-out), Brandi delves into the world of social media and its effects on dating. (If you are interested in this topic at all, I would high recommend reading Aziz Ansari’s book Modern Romance– it’s a very funny and scientifically-backed look at how dating has changed). Brandi once again constantly contradicts herself. First, she says she wants to develop an app for break-ups that shows you how to change your name back to your maiden name and how to block your ex. THEN she says it looks TOTALLY lame to block or unfriend your ex. I guess maybe she was talking about different levels of relationships (marriage or long partnership vs. a few months of casual dating), but she never actually says that. Honestly, I like her podcast a LOT more than this book. A little of Brandi goes a long way. #justsayin
Seriously though, this woman has two little boys that she constantly reminds us are the most important men in her life. Well, maybe stop fucking writing about what a douche bag their father is and what a lying whore their stepmother is OVER AND OVER AND OVER again. All children of reality stars have a rough road ahead. They are going to learn things about their parents that NONE of us should ever EVER know. I am sure EVERY child can’t wait to watch the unseen footage of their mom showing her tits on Rock of Love: Bus. Why make that worse by writing about your vaginaplasty? Not because she shouldn’t get one, because it’s her body and whatever makes her happy, or even write about it, because some people are curious to know what it entails. BUT to say over and over about how it was so that her ex-husband never touched it and because it restored her “kitty cat” to it’s fresh-out-of-the-box (gross) tightness?
Okay, I’ll hop down off that soapbox now. MOVING ON! So Brandi, I’ve just now realized, really envisions herself to be quite the Carrie Bradshaw of her group. (Obvi Lisa Vanderpump is Samantha, Kyle is Charlotte and… Adrienne Maloof is Miranda? No one ever wants to be Miranda.) So she gives yet another nickname for a man she dubs a “unicorn chaser”- a guy who is basically looking for a Victoria’s Secret model who is also in Mensa. (It feels very season one of SATC with the modelizer, yes?) So, SPOILER ALERT, that didn’t work out either. So Brandi finishes up with a few stories about “her Italian,” a man who was apparently featured on RHOBH, but I have no recall of him.
In short, this book is basically just a shitty version of SATC, where instead of Carrie being a self-obsessed neurotic professional writer with a shoe addiction, this Carrie is a former model with a messy divorce that is her whole persona and a giant country-music singer-sized chip on her shoulder. In other words,