She spends most of this book desperately trying to convince the reader that she is somehow different than all the other women who 'dated' Hugh Hefner and posed in his magazine. Madison's memoir is an incredible portrait of a total lack of self-awareness. Sidebar: there are a ton of The Girls Next Door episodes on YouTube right now, and there are worse ways to waste an afternoon. The women gained fame when they starred in a reality show based around the Playboy Mansion, and then eventually moved on to get their own shows once they left the mansion. So, some background: Holly Madison spent seven years living in the Playboy Mansion as one of Hugh Hefner's 'girlfriends.' In the early years, she was one of a larger group of girls (who are always referred to by Holly's hilariously oblivious narration as 'the mean girls'), but later the girlfriends shrank to three members: Madison, Bridgette Marquette, and Kendra Wilkinson. In short, Holly Madison has some things to get off her chest, and god damn was I here for that.

Reading this book is sort of like sitting down for coffee with a casual acquaintance right after she's broken up with her boyfriend, and you have to sit there and listen politely while she unloads every complaint and annoyance she ever had while they were dating. A more honest picture would be Madison shouting at the reader.

It's hilarious that the cover photo shows Madison holding a finger to her lips, because she is holding nothing back here. I wanted dirt, and hoooooly shit, readers, does Holly Madison deliver the dirt. But mostly I just wanted dirt on Hugh Hefner, the weird atmosphere of the Playboy Mansion, and the women who were paid to have sex with Hefner under the guise of 'girlfriends.' I read it because 'behind-the-scenes look at trashy reality show' is one of my favorite memoir styles, and I've always been weirdly fascinated by mistresses, harems, harem culture, and the whole 'what men think women do when they're not around vs. Underneath the surface, this is a scathing indictment of unfair beauty standards, the fear of female sexuality, and the entire goddamn patriarchy (and Madison, delightfully, seems blissfully unaware of the deeper implications of some of her observations about the unfairness of life at the Playboy Mansion - she's just mad that all these girls were so mean to her). Look, I'm not going to pretend that I had any good reason to read this book. Better yet: The Truth About Kettle: An Autobiography by Pot. Or, as I called the book in my head, Everyone is a Whore Except Me and Here's Why.

Down the rabbit hole holly