This review was originally posted on and on May 24, 2014.

Sloppily and condescendingly written, “Skinny Bitch Gets Hitched” asks the reader to suspend the disbelief, not in aliens or artifacts or magic but rather, in how people act and how the world works.

Personally, I don’t understand the appeal of the “skinny bitch” moniker.

The “skinny bitch,” Clementine Cooper (Clem for short) is a vegan. And don’t forget it, because if you’re not a vegan, well, prepare to be preached at with flimsy arguments and pointless rhetoric.

So Clem, at an improbably young age, runs her own restaurant and is dating the millionaire-owner-chef of a steak house.

So, Barnouin (author) set up the tension for us in the structure. Lest ye be interested in people who make only moderate amounts of money, the aforementioned millionaire boyfriend is, well, a millionaire. Tapping into the shades of money without the sex, submission or anything even remotely fun.

The millionaire (who will propose to Clem, hence the title of the book) has a horrible, horrible mother whom he wants to reconcile with. He is, of course (please, start parading out the tropes so they may strut their stuff on the catwalk) blind to his own mother’s idiocy.

Clem is, of course, blind to her own family’s criminal malfeasances.

He (boyfriend-turned-fiance) is, of course, a terrible, nay, supremely horrendous communicator, willing to let his entire relationship crumble before him because he’s unwilling to talk.

And then, there’s the dumpy best friend, whom the “Skinny Bitch” shows her colors to.

Please, don’t doubt that Clem is a bitch, because she is, to her best friend.

She’s not a, “he’s-so-wrong-for-you bitch” but rather, a “I’m-better-than-you-you-fatass bitch.”  Really unpleasant. Not snarky. Not acceptable. Not a misandristic bitch.

“Skinny Bitch” is not the equivalent of, say, Tucker Max. Not an asshole for good reason, or for humor. We do not love the skinny bitch for her bitchiness, who is not cognizant of the harm she’s doing to her own friends. No, just a regular, mean-hearted person who puts her best friend down.

Eventually, there’s a wedding and some reconciliation and some ridiculous restaurant idea and my favorite bit of idiocy: the linking of the rejection of an idea to the rejection of a person.

Skinny Bitch may think it’s acceptable to get down (just kidding, she’d never do that!) or, more properly, fully insult her best friend (who happens to be curvy) about the aforementioned curves and bad diet (and probably lack of exercise) leading to them. At the same time, she assumes her partner’s rejection, on entirely logical and empirical grounds, of a business idea is a rejection of herself.

She rejects her friend for being overweight, yet, finds fault with her partner for rejecting her business plan for being terrible, the assessment of terrible based on empirical evidence.

See the suspension of disbelief problem here? See the problem where it makes women out to be especially illogical, prone to emotion and false correlation? Where, had it been written by a male author, it’d probably be labeled as unrealistic and misogynistic?

I do.

The men make it out pretty easy. Basic slob/failed communicator/gentle soul stereotypes.

All in all, lots and lots of fluff bone out the 307 pages.

Unlike the skinny bitch herself, and her beautifully, constantly-put-down curvaceous best friend, Skinny Bitch gets Hitched needs to lose some weight.


This book was received, free of charge, from the Goodreads First Reads program.

All quotes are taken from an “advanced uncorrected proof” bound galley version of the book and may, or may not, reflect the final commercial edition.

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