Filled with sex, drugs, and rock and roll, Janice Dickinson's first memoir is a no-holds barred look at life as America's first supermodel, as she so aptly bills herself.
The book is easy and light enough as a beach read, although it touches on many sad aspects of her life-her troubled relationship with her father, and the problematic relationships it causes with finding a mate in life. Coupled with meaningless binges in drugs of all kinds and plenty of alcohol, and you have the life of a woman who has lived too much, too fast.
That being said, there is something of a happy ending. She has a family, and is able to realize her worth for being something other than a supermodel.
I personally preferred to read about her early years in Florida as a nobody dreaming of making it big, than I did hearing about her random sexcapades with big named stars, or comments about other models and their thighs/lack of beauty.
Janice may be difficult and demanding, and that does show in her book. However, she also came across as real too, and for that I applaud her.
I'd read it again for a light read, to balance out any difficult or heavy books I was currently reading.
Honest, rude, crazy memoir, but I still think Janice is funny. She is a character all in her own right. It was a fun romp to dive into her hazy, half-lucid memories of her time as a young supermodel.
This woman is not a saint! The language and content of this book...well let me say you cannot let the kids get their hands/eyes on it.
Amazing story even if a quarter true!! very interesting reading for the summer