If you think your mothering skills suck, this is the book for you!
Wendy Lawless’ memoir, Chanel Bonfire caught my eye at Barnes and Noble right after Christmas as I stood their with my cache of gift cards wondering what to buy. It literally jumped out at me.
I’ll admit, I do judge a book by its cover. Or at least by the title.
I’m a sucker for a good title. And, I’m rarely let down.
This one kept the record going.
Lawless is an actress – Broadway off-Broadway, television – wife and mother. She’s really not done that much TV, but she’ has one of those faces, one that when you see it, you don’t forget her, but you can never remember what you saw her in last.
But, I digress.
The book is a memoir of her UPbringing. Quite the rocky road. Her mother, Georgann Rea, has ripped the tacky tiara from the head of Joan Crawford and planted it firmly on her own perfectly coiffed pate.
The mom, a real-life Holly Golightly, re-invents herself as she moves UP the social ladder from man to man and penthouse to penthouse.
Lying, cheating, beating, screaming, yelling, crazy, crazy, crazy…the woman drags her two daughters all over the world, living her life in a vodka induced haze while blaming them – the girls – for all her troubles, woes, and break UPs. Swathed in Chanel, a lit Dunhill in her cigarette holder, she sucks at motherhood like no other before or since.
Really, the lady was a loon.
But, Lawless, amazingly normal after a childhood that included meeting Elton John, living in the Dakota along with John and Yoko, and Summering in Morocco, tells the story with humor, grace, charm, and panache!
Wendy and her sister, Robin, find themselves the keepers of their mother while she searches for glamour and passion and reason to go on.
The young women must make a choice. Frankly, Sophie had an easier one.
Read this book. You’ll cry, laugh, cuss a little, and call your mother to say thanks, but you won’t put it down.