Entertainment Weekly Review





Don't look here for the scoop on why the star formerly known as Ginger left the Spice Girls so abruptly last year ("The girls simply assumed that I was joking , or having a bad day"). And for dishy details of off stage life with Posh, Baby, Sporty, and Scary, British tabloids are far more piquant --Halliwell's raciest tales involve popping out of too-tight concert costumes. Strip away the prattle-filled chapters on the Spice life, however, and what remains are surprisingly honest bits where Halliwell details her depressive bouts with bulimia and stints as a "glamour" (read: nude) model. But it's only reflections like "singing to Prince Charles is the perfect laxitive" that occasionally keep the memoir from being a yawny wannabe C+

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Review From Booklist , October 1, 1999
The superficiality of this book cannot be overstated. Still, it is a useful pop-cultural document.
Halliwell was Ginger Spice in the Spice Girls, the Monkees^-Bay City Rollers^-Sex Pistols^-style
prefab band that rode a carefully crafted "girl power" media assault to fame and fortune. She treats
us to page after page of growing up as the perky, undersized issue of a moderately ne'er-do-well
Swedish dad from Liverpool and a feisty, Spanish, Catholic-cum-Jehovah's Witness mom. She pays
special attention to her slow bust development, reports wanting to marry George Michael, and says
that Lady Di's marriage and transformation into Princess Di show that fairy tales do happen.
Snippets from her diary appear throughout, and though only a cynic would question whether they
are genuine, they reveal the living, breathing, thinking, feeling human being behind the carefully
crafted persona of Ginger Spice. It should be noted that Geri says that Ginger Spice is dead and
she, Geri, has matured: "Last week in Los Angeles, I tried on a dress that was a little too tight
around the bust. The old Geri would have tried to squeeze into the smaller size, but instead I chose
the next size up. For me this was an important step toward self-acceptance." So, publicity ploy or
soul-baring journal of a contemporary artiste? Anyone familiar with Geri's role model Madonna's
legendary inability to realistically assess herself and her "art" should have no trouble answering that
one. There is no denying the probable appeal of this parable in pink gauze, but the sugar sensitive
should also be alerted to adequately prepare for it. Mike Tribby
Copyright© 1999, American Library Association. All rights reserved