Book Review: Four Ways to Wear a Dress by Gillian Libby | Jo Linsdell

Book Review: Four Ways to Wear a Dress by Gillian Libby

     

Book Review Four Ways to Wear a Dress by Gillian Libby


My thoughts about Four Ways To Wear A Dress by Gillian Libby


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Disclosure: I got sent a free copy of this book by the publisher via Net Galley.




  • ASIN ‏ : ‎ B09HLF4FJR
  • ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1728247209
  • ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1728247205
  • Publisher ‏ : ‎ Sourcebooks Casablanca 
  • Publication date ‏ : ‎ June 7, 2022
  • Print length ‏ : ‎ 304 pages

The book synopsis for Four Ways To Wear A Dress by Gillian Libby

Book cover Four Ways to Wear a Dress by Gillian Libby

Gillian Libby brings you a bright, sexy, and hopeful story about friendship, self-discovery and acceptance, and fighting for your own happiness, even if it looks a little different than everyone else's.

Millie Ward has been fired. Again. She's tired of feeling like a failure, and she refuses to blame her ADHD the way her parents do every time she hits one of life's speed bumps. This time, she's going to let that speed bump actually slow her down, and jumps at the chance to visit her best friend?and Instagram influencer?Quincy in California. And she wouldn't mind if that invitation also involved getting closer with Quincy's brother, Pete.

Millie's best friends Kate and Bree send her to Peacock Bay with the little black dress they share, giving her the confidence she needs to make the move. But Peacock Bay is full of mega influencers who have perfected the look of the surf lifestyle, and a minor misunderstanding has Millie joining their ranks. Can Millie and her magical dress convince Pete to face the Bay with her, or will Millie's time in California be another misstep on her way to figuring out exactly who she is?


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Discussing Four Ways To Wear A Dress by Gillian Libby



Quotes from Four Ways To Wear A Dress by Gillian Libby


I don’t think my parents are going to find any comfort in this explanation when I tell them I’ve been laid off. To them, it will be just one more reason to be worried that their daughter isn’t a capable, functioning adult. Which, in a way, is fair.

When the waiter comes over, I order a beer and then at the last minute shout at his back, “And the tater-tot poutine!” Because one, it’s amazing, and two, cheese-soaked carbs are good for sorrow and confusion. It’s a fact.

“I think their older sister, Amelia, runs the website and social media. Pete does more of the operations from what I understand,” I explain. Pete and Quincy are the fourth and fifth kids in their family (Quincy is number five, like quint. They’re very cute, this family.)

I pick up my phone and form my response carefully. Millie: Fuck it, I’m in. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that careful.

I know what she’s really saying. It sounds just like the kind of thing a grown woman with ADHD would do. And I get that. But this isn’t like when I was seventeen and got fired from the giant pretzel stand for goofing around and twisting the pretzels in shapes that were “unsuitable for sale.” Penises. I made penis pretzels. I’m not proud of it.

I wish I could believe she was right. That this dress has been sitting in this box waiting for me to need it so it could come out and work its magic on me the way it did for my friends. I have nothing to lose by giving it another shot. It does look great on me, at the very least.

He smiles, he’s not a gloomy guy, but his smiles are small and controlled. Like he’s worried if he gives one out, he won’t be able to get it back.

“But don’t you think there’s something weird about presenting your entire life to strangers like that? I think Alana even posted pictures of her last home birth.” He shivers and I roll my eyes at him.

“Six a.m.,” he reminds me, like a stern professor who just gave me a deadline on a paper. I’ve never had professor-student fantasies until this exact moment.

It’s not like I’m proud of how often I find myself failing at life, but there is a little freedom in not having to feel like I have to hide it.


I follow the universal surfing rules of the lineup. I don’t steal waves. I wait my turn. I want to show the guys out here that I know what I’m doing and that I belong on these waves just as much as they do. But it really sucks that I feel like I have something to prove at all. Why can’t a girl just surf on her own and be respected for her skills the same way guys are? Why should I have to be extra careful about following the rules when the guys out here today probably aren’t even thinking about them?

“I brought the baby so you couldn’t yell at me.” “A sound strategy,” I tell him. “Plus, I know you like her better than me so she was likely to improve your general feelings about my being here.”

I really want to huff and puff my indignation a little bit longer, but this combination of sexy apologetic man holding eco-friendly goods is weirdly doing it for me.

How can someone this good looking seem so uncomfortable in his own skin? If I had that skin, I would be walking around showing it off any chance I got. And I mean that in the least serial-killer way possible.

If history and YouTube have taught us anything, it’s that people love to see other people make complete assholes of themselves.

Just because we mess up doesn’t mean we ARE messed up.




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Book Review: Four Ways to Wear a Dress by Gillian Libby






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