This must be the worst book I`ve read this year,
what a load of self serving barking tripe it is!
Sarah Ferguson married into the Royal Family in 1986 and what a catastrophe her presence has been for them ever since. The product of a some what dysfunctional but upper middle class family she took to duchessing like a dog would a bone on and on and on. Needless to say her marriage didn`t last and Her Majesty has obviously long gone past the point of no return with Sarah. A shame that the same can`t be said for her somewhat lacking Duke, Andrew who after a few unwise decisions has been royally tossed from his job as Britains Trade Ambassador.
Disaster has followed disaster, scorn as been heaped upon scorn but still Sarah refuses to see that healing is something you do with dignity, quietly, away from the spotlight and you write the book 10 years later. Here we have Counsellors, Therapist, Retreats, Religious Shamans, Oprah, Doctor Phil all done with alarming lavishness that does not befit anyone whose ex husband has to save them from bankruptcy after they reach debt of the 5 million dollar mark, no simplicity here except in the poor girls mind. Everyone goes through bad times and there is always a place for therapy, pills, life style change etc but blurting on about your lack of an assistant is pathetic...do some housework, exercise, bake, knit, read, go and put your hands to full time, work helping the less fortunate if that's what it takes to keep you occupied but life in the fast lane has passed her by and yet she refuses to except it, she wants Demi Moore to share the secrets of how she lured Ashton Kutcher so the Duchess can get her own Ashton, letters from her daughters which make them sound like a couple of yapping two year olds and diary entries along with pearls of wisdom pepper this book, you would be well advised to follow very little of it.
Imagine your 20 year old daughter breaking of a backyard tryst with her boyfriend to run up stairs and tell Mumsy that you love her, insecure anyone? They and endless friends congratulate Mumsy on the wondrous journey she has undertaken, yes she is the best Mumsy of all, we can but stand in her shadow. Sickly sweet and endlessly self praising while attempting a degree of humility, may work hard for the odd charity but most woman of her age don`t live in their exs home and get up early to run through the bluebells, chance would be a fine thing but then I`m jealous!
I should have been shot to have picked up this book, its worst than Kathleen Turners and that was a classic!