Rules of a chick lit (and what can we learn from it)

- It’s written for women.

- It’s written for young (and “young” women who just can’t accept the fact that they are not young anymore).

- It’s written for young (and “young” women) living in the cities.
(Yeah, like nobody else reads. Am I right?)

-Main character in a chick lit is (guess what?)- an “urban” young woman living in a city.

-She is white, upper class (or upper middle class) and doesn’t really know anything about the real-world problems.

-She is not married, wants to have a brilliant career, and hate kids…

-… but desperately looking for a husband (even though authors don’t always call the man of her dreams “husband”… Marriage is not popular anymore. Nor is maternity).

-She works in the: a) fashion industry or b) publishing or, perhaps c) some sort of public relations/marketing/similar crap. NONE of the chick lit heroines are mathematicians, nuclear physicians or philosophers (if you don’t count endless “philosophy” about differences between men and women).

-She is obsessed with shoes.

-She is obsessed with cosmetics.

-When she’s feeling down, she goes shopping.

-She is desperately looking for a guy to become her boyfriend and later, husband (though author would never admit the husband thing… waait, I already said this).

So, what can we learn from the chick lit?

-”Taking care of yourself” equals taking care of your physical appearance.

-In order to be satisfied with your love and sex life, you have to buy (shoes, clothes, cosmetics). If you didn’t depilate your legs for 3 days, you should forget about love and sex because no man would want you.

-Men and women are 100% different. They are so different that they can’t understand each other in any way, despite the fact that they, after all, belong to the same species (Homo Sapiens Sapiens).

-If a man has bad shoes, he is not worth your attention.

-In order to be satisfied with your love and sex life, you have to buy.

-In order to be satisfied with your life in general, you have to buy.
….

Yeah, you got the idea.

Random Lyrics

For threatening my baby, unborn and unnamed, you ain't worth the blood that runs in your veins. (Bob Dylan- Masters of War)

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