2015 has been a Nora Ephron heavy year. It induces great pangs of sadness to think she’s been gone for over three years. All of her books follow a similar theme of analysing her life and telling us about what she’s learned with her sharp wit. It will be a heartbreaking day when I finish reading all of her work.
Sali Hughes and her beauty handbook for ‘real women’ has received much acclaim. If you have good knowledge of makeup and skincare already, I would say you don’t desperately need this in your life. Perhaps take a gander at Caroline Hirons blog to expand existing information. However, if you are a beauty rookie then Pretty Honest would be a good place to start.
Put simply, Dame Judi Dench’s illustrated memoir is a great flick-through coffee table book. It contains personal photos of her career and family life. Who doesn’t love a bit of Dench? If anyone saw her in A Winter’s Tale, just know I am mightily jealous of you.
I have also developed a strong affinity for Lily Tomlin this year. The Search, as it is referred to, is a play written by Tomlin’s partner of over 40 years, Jane Wagner. It was shown on Broadway and Tomlin won a TONY Award for her portrayal of…every single character in the play. “I worry if peanut oil comes from peanutsand olive oil comes from olives, where does baby oil come from?”
What If… is Shirley MacLaine musing over a range of subjects like religion, marriage and politics, and asking what if…? What if I could have banished Sachi Parker to a different planet and prevented her from writing a tell-all book about me as a mother? That isn’t in the book, but I imagine ol’ Shirl thought about it.
My last book of the year that I’ve just finished is Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking. It is an account of the few short months in which she loses her husband and her daughter falls seriously ill. Didion examines pre-existing ideas she has about death, marriage, children and life itself. Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends. The question of self-pity. She revisits a version of this opening passage throughout the book as she goes on a exploration of her personal, yet ubiquitous, experiences. This, along with Slouching Towards Bethlehem and Blue Nights were gifted to me by Hannah for Christmas. I think 2016 will be a Joan Didion year.