After school, I wait alone by the fence. Most of the other kids have gone home. I push my Coke-bottle-thick glasses up my small nose as my green eyes squint against the sun. I pull my long brown hair back into a ponytail. She picks me up today because Dad is too busy.
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Recommends it for: privileged schoolgirls, Matt Damon Recommended to Antoinette by: Mattie Deel Shelves: memoirs I was instantly put off from this book by glancing at the back.
Apparently, I have been wrong all of these years. This is the story of a spoiled, selfish little girl that justifies becoming a self destructive, bitchy, snob by blaming her childhood and parents. In that respect it has the I was instantly put off from this book by glancing at the back. In that respect it has the potential to be a great memoir. However, Saignor is never able to justify being a terrible writer. A good writer can take a story and fill it with humanity and thought. A terrible writer can take an interesting life, suck all of the potential out of it, and make it mundane.
She overlooks things, dwells on things, it is repetitious, confusing, bland, and reads like the diary of a silicone valley junior high schoolers. There are many characters in this story that deserve emphasis compassion, but more description is given to outfits and songs blaring in the background.
Yes Jennifer, we realize you have super dark taste in music because your messed up life, is that what you want? Is that why you wrote this book? Not many people have the ability to make a childhood full of drugs and sex mundane, she should be rewarded. One wonders about the credibility of her narration.
The entire story is told within the first four chapters, the rest is just needless sensationalism. In the end, Saignor comes off as more pathetic than her coked-out father. Worse than the B-list celebrities she mocks, she is just a spoiled little girl that just so happened to be passing through. No doubt she overplays her importance in the life of the bunnies, and Hugh Hefner himself.
Paris Hilton complex, maybe? Saignor seems to want pity, but as a sibling, daughter, student, person, etc. Constant name-dropping end this "startlingly honest glimpse into a childhood lost in the Playboy mansion.
Perhaps she should have spent some time learning how to write. It is a poorly written book about stupid people that act poorly. Not an expose, not uplifting, not interesting, it mocks itself. No doubt, Saignor would write about herself "She was a spoiled brat that pranced around the mansion getting fucked up and making out with bunnies.
She was a bitchy slut, and her book made that obvious. For a moment it made me reflect on how traumatized many of us are by childhood. It made me wonder how sad that kid swinging alone really might be.
Playground: A Childhood Lost Inside the Playboy Mansion