Ugh. It's called "Everyone Worth Knowing," by the woman who wrote The Devil Wears Prada. I'd never read that book, only seen the movie (because where Meryl goes shall I follow), but .. if this is how it was written, I'm afraid I don't understand the acclaim, or why it was translated to film to begin with.
It should be renamed, "The Big Book of Cliches." We've got the "fabulous" gay uncle who thinks dinner parties are a science and worships brand names, the pushy, famous playboy who thinks he's God's gift to women, a main character who gained ten whole pounds during her 5 years as a bank associate, and "dropped them without even trying!" once she quit, the young French model . . . the author actually writes out her dialogue phonetically, so we can all see the accent.
It was a gym book, something I picked up at Good Will because it looked fluffy and harmless and entertaining enough to get me through a 50-minute power walk, but, for the first time, I may actually give up on a novel without finishing it. I just don't think I can stomach another page.