This was a really interesting and enjoyable take on the fashion industry. Wonderful writing that flowed. Loved the character work.
A really enjoyable and compulsive read.

Author Louise O'Neill's description of this book, 'The Devil Wears Prada meets American Psycho' is the reason I requested it, and it's the perfect description.

Taking place in the fashion world, mainly at RAGE Fashion Book, a factitious fashion magazine which prides itself working only with ethical brands. The book starts with the editor having been found dead in a locked room at the magazines headquarters. The mystery of her death is woven throughout the book, and is what connects the characters, however, it is not the main plot of the story.

The main focus of the story is a satirical look at the fashion world, which I really enjoyed. The clothing and the editorials were intentionally over the top and ridiculous at times, which made for a much more fun book than I had anticipated, although there are some darker moments too.

The strong female characters are the best part of this book, especially Cat, Bess and Margot. I highly recommend this book.

With a fantastic title, good blurb and an interesting setting, this novel seemed to have everything to create an excellent mystery. It is set around the fashion industry, in general, and the offices of a fashion magazine, “RAGE Fashion Book,” in particular. Catherine Ono is a senior editor at the magazine and was a school friend of her colleague, Hillary Whitney, whose body was found in a locked workroom in the New York office building where ‘RAGE’ is housed, having suffered a heart attack due to end-stage starvation. The only clue to her mysterious death was an upturned box of ribbon, referred to in a postcard found later by her brother; whose huge donation to the NYPD was enough to see the case re-opened. Enter handsome detective, Mark Hutton, who sets out to try and make a name for himself by solving the case. Did Hillary Whitney die due to a long term eating disorder, or was something else involved?

Cat Ono is the central character in this novel and she is confused as to why the NYPD are re-investigating the case. Indeed, it does seem unclear, even to the reader, as her death was initially given as natural causes. Cat has good reason to be unimpressed by the initial police investigation, but the author is at pains to tell us, firstly, that the fashion industry is not a frivolous one and, two, to emphasise the bonds of sisterhood among the female characters. It is difficult to combine fashion and feminism, but this is a point which is laboriously driven all the time, with Cat keen to point out why her job is important, the fact that how she presents herself is part of her role and that spending money on fashion is not frivolous. So, we have the office of ‘RAGE’ which does not contain anything as boring, or provincial, as a receptionist; but, instead, houses a single phone – while staff members wave mobiles at apparently blank walls to open them. Appearances are, literally, everything and this involves a lot of partying, being seen at the right places, an unhealthy reliance on drugs and staying thin, along with many characters seeing eating disorders as quite acceptable.

Lots of this novel was really enjoyable, and many of the points made were very interesting. Staff members at ‘RAGE’ spend their time being bombarded by products, by those hoping their clothes, bags, cosmetics and jewellery will be presented in the magazine. Still, like most published magazines now, they are under pressure to stay relevant in the era of social media, where other forms can showcase fashion more quickly, and cheaply, than a printed publication. Sometimes, though, the different issues overwhelm the story. I enjoyed the parts set in the magazine offices most; with the elderly matriarch editor in chief, Margot Villiers, the hard working associate editor, Bess Bonner and the bizarrely named replacement for Hillary, Whig Beaton Molton-Mauve Lucas (thankfully known as Lou). Detective Mark Hutton worked less well, although I would have liked the mystery element to have taken more of a centre stage to the desire, by the author, to show her knowledge of the fashion world. Still, an interesting read – it would be a good choice for book groups, as it has a lot to discuss – and I would certainly try more by this debut author.

I was super excited when I read the synopsis for this book. A thriller set in a The Devil Wears Prada-esque world? Count me in! What started out as a satirical take on the fashion industry with humorous commentary on the lifestyle of a certain group of people within society, very quickly became dull and achingly critical. The storyline was intriguing at first, but even that lost my interest after a while. I'd say this book is worth a read, as it's interesting, unique and definitely has character. However, it wasn't as exciting as I had hoped it would be.

A fast-paced romp through the world of high fashion and magazine journalism, the fictional version of Cat Marnell's "How to Murder Your Life". Sympathetic characters, a high octane plot, and a pacy writing style makes this a book to be devoured in a single sitting.

I’ll Eat When I’m Dead is a tense and exhilarating satire of the fashion world with a mysterious death at its heart. When Hillary, a top editor from RAGE Fashion Book, is found dead in the office, it seems like she starved, though her friend Cat thinks there’s more to the story. She starts doing her own detective work based on a mysterious bottle found in a bag of Hillary’s and soon she is drawn into a world of drugs, lies, and danger, all whilst dealing with the glaring public eye on social media.

In content, Bourland’s novel is Bret Easton Ellis and Jay McInerney for the digital age, where staying at the top requires hard work, luck, and sometimes killer instincts. In style it is far more straightforward and less pretentious than either, satiric and full of detail but still tensely written. The characters often seem to be teetering on the edge, fuelling themselves on whatever works to get them through the cutthroat world of the fashion magazine business in an age where digital media is key and paying people to wear brands on ‘Photogram’ - a transparent stand-in - is more effective than a full page ad. This environment is vividly drawn and brutal, a female-dominated version of the world of novels like American Psycho, and it forms the crucial backdrop for the fairly simple mystery death narrative.

The real force of the novel is Bourland’s satire of the industry and of other elements of the digital age. Offhand comments about dieting and image make for dark and at times horrific moments of self-awareness, summed up in the novel’s title. I’ll Eat When I’m Dead is the female-led modern version of 80s and 90s alternative American satirical fiction, exposing darkness in an industry full of drugs, sex, and battles for the top.

(Note: review will be posted on my blog Fiendfully Reading under two weeks before publication date.)

The thing about satire is that even when it's genuinely funny and witty as here, it inevitably becomes wearing in a novel where every other sentence is having a pop at some well-known targets: women's magazines, rampant acquisitiveness and consumerism, fashion trends, skinny minnies and so on. Bourland has a right-on perspective and even quotes that old Berger axiom of men looking, women watching themselves being look at (from the 1970s, almost 50 years old now, hardly news, right?).

I started off sniggering at the skewering of a certain world: 'with the right combination of stress and a diet of alkaline-only green juices, a fatal heart-attack could've happened anytime', but as the snide humour piles up and the characters get more cartoon-like, my enjoyment began to wane. Not even the introduction of a handsome police officer could rescue this.

Bourland can be a sharp and witty writer but I'm not convinced that her skills transfer to the novel medium: she could write a blistering series of columns on this topic that keep things short and brisk. This makes many of the same points as The Devil Wears Prada but without the endearing qualities that made that novel a success. I'd read Bourland again in a shot, but not as a novelist.