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#thighgap by Chandler Morrison is difficult to review. It's almost like no matter what is said or left out will both come back to haunt me. It's horrifying and bleak but also outrageous and shocking. If you've read Morrison before then you know there is nothing held back. Content Warnings palooza (you can basically pick any and every single one imaginable from the title/plot summary and it's in this story). But even in the most shocking moments and revelations from our main character, Helen, I do not think anything here is being glorified. It feels deeply personal, raw, and human. It's sick and scary. And it's sad. There are so many emotions packed into this 120 page novella. There's so much heart and pain.

And all these characters just pissed me off - they are so unhelpful (almost the opposite) of anything Helen is going through or thinking. They are all enablers. They are all vapid. And all of this just fuels Helen further and further down the drain. I hope I was not meant to like them or find any of them charming -- because I definitely did not!

There were certain scenes that unsettled me so much I had to pause reading. The things Helen thinks to herself and thinks she sees, hears, smells, etc had me uneasy a lot of the times. There are a lot of relatable emotions and fears. And Morrison just puts it all out there in a way that I feverishly turned the pages because I had to know what was real, what was happening, and if Helen was going to make it out of this journey alive or further unscathed.

I could not put this down, and it almost hurts to like this. But isn't that life? This might be my favorite story Chandler Morrison has written.

And Anna Wintour would be so proud of all the ultra high fashion and luxury brand dropping. From suits to sunglasses, I felt like I had my own tour down Rodeo Drive without the crippling debt.