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Shopaholic Takes Manhattan [Anglais] [Poche]

Sophie Kinsella
4.5 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (10 commentaires client)

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Description de l'ouvrage

2 mars 2004 Shopaholic
The irresistible heroine of Confessions of a Shopaholic and Shopaholic Ties the Knot is back! And this time Becky Bloomwood and her credit cards are headed across the Atlantic.…

With her shopping excesses (somewhat) in check and her career as a TV financial guru thriving, Becky’s biggest problem seems to be tearing her entrepreneur boyfriend, Luke, away from work for a romantic country weekend. And worse, figuring out how to pack light. But packing takes on a whole new meaning when Luke announces he’s moving to New York for business—and he asks Becky to go with him! Before you can say “Prada sample sale,” Becky has landed in the Big Apple, home of Park Avenue penthouses and luxury boutiques.

Surely it’s only a matter of time until she becomes an American TV celebrity, and she and Luke are the toast of Gotham society. Nothing can stand in their way, especially with Becky’s bills miles away in London. But then an unexpected disaster threatens her career prospects, her relationship with Luke, and her available credit line! Shopaholic Takes Manhattan—but will she have to return it?

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Extrait

Chapter One


OK, don't panic. Don't panic. It's simply a question of being organized and staying calm and deciding what exactly I need to take. And then fitting it all neatly into my suitcase. I mean, just how hard can that be?

I step back from my cluttered bed and close my eyes, half-hoping that if I wish hard enough, my clothes might magically organize themselves into a series of neatly folded piles. Like in those magazine articles on packing, which tell you how to go on holiday with one cheap sarong and cleverly turn it into six different outfits. (Which I always think is a complete con, because, OK, the sarong costs ten quid, but then they add loads of accessories which cost hundreds, and we're not supposed to notice.)

But when I open my eyes again, the clutter is all still there. In fact, there seems to be even more of it, as if while my eyes were shut, my clothes have been secretly jumping out of the drawers and running around on my bed. Everywhere I look, there are huge great tangled piles of . . . well . . . stuff. Shoes, boots, T-shirts, magazines . . . a Body Shop gift basket that was on sale . . . a linguaphone Italian course which I'm definitely going to start soon . . . a facial sauna thingy . . . And, sitting proudly on my dressing table, a fencing mask and sword which I bought yesterday. Only forty quid from a charity shop!

I pick up the sword and experimentally give a little lunge toward my reflection in the mirror. It was a real coincidence, because I've been meaning to take up fencing for ages, ever since I read this article about it in The Daily World. Did you know that fencers have better legs than any other athletes? Plus, if you're an expert you can become a stunt double in a film and earn loads of money! So what I'm planning to do is find some fencing lessons nearby, and get really good, which I should think I'll do quite quickly.

And then—this is my secret little plan—when I've got my gold badge, or whatever it is, I'll write to Catherine Zeta-Jones. Because she must need a stunt double, mustn't she? And why shouldn't it be me? In fact she'd probably prefer someone British. Maybe she'll phone back and say she always watches my television appearances on cable, and she's always wanted to meet me! We'll probably really hit it off, and turn out to have the same sense of humor and everything. And then I'll fly out to her luxury home, and get to meet Michael Douglas and play with the baby. We'll be all relaxed together like old friends, and some magazine will do a feature on celebrity best friends and have us in it, and maybe they'll even ask me to be . . .

"Hi, Bex!" With a jolt, the happy pictures of me laughing with Michael and Catherine vanish, and my brain snaps into focus. Suze, my flatmate, is wandering into my room, wearing a pair of ancient paisley pajamas, with her blonde hair in plaits. "What are you doing?" she asks curiously.

"Nothing!" I say, hastily putting the fencing sword back. "Just . . . you know. Keep fit."

"Oh right," she says vaguely. "So—how's the packing going?" She wanders over to my mantelpiece, picks up a lipstick, and begins to apply it. Suze always does this in my room—just wanders about picking things up and looking at them and putting them down again. She says she loves the way you never know what you might find, like in a junk shop. Which I'm fairly sure she means in a nice way.

"It's going really well," I say. "I'm just deciding which suitcase to take."

"Ooh," says Suze turning round, her mouth half bright pink. "What about that little cream one? Or your red holdall?"

"I thought maybe this one," I say, hauling my new acid-green shell case out from under the bed. I bought it last weekend, and it's absolutely gorgeous.

"Wow!" says Suze, her eyes widening. "Bex! That's fab! Where did you get it?"

"Fenwicks," I say, grinning broadly. "Isn't it amazing?"

"It's the coolest case I've ever seen!" says Suze, running her fingers admiringly over it. "So . . . how many suitcases have you got now?" She glances up at my wardrobe, on which are teetering a brown leather case, a lacquered trunk, and three vanity cases.

"Oh, you know," I say, shrugging a little defensively. "The normal amount."

I suppose I have been buying quite a bit of luggage recently. But the thing is, for ages I didn't have any, just one battered old canvas bag. Then, a few months ago I had an incredible revelation in the middle of Harrods, a bit like Saint Paul on the road to Mandalay. Luggage. And since then, I've been making up for all the lean years.

Besides which, everyone knows good luggage is an investment.

"I'm just making a cup of tea," says Suze. "D'you want one?"

"Ooh, yes please!" I say. "And a KitKat?" Suze grins.

"Definitely a KitKat."

Recently, we had this friend of Suze's to stay on our sofa—and when he left he gave us this huge box full of a hundred KitKats. Which is such a great thank-you present, but it means all we eat, all day long, is KitKats. Still, as Suze pointed out last night, the quicker we eat them, the quicker they'll be gone—so in a way, it's healthier just to stuff in as many as possible right away.

Suze ambles out of the room and I turn to my case. Right. Concentrate. Packing. This really shouldn't take long. All I need is a very basic, pared-down capsule wardrobe for a romantic minibreak in Somerset. I've even written out a list, which should make things nice and simple.

Jeans: two pairs. Easy. Scruffy and not quite so scruffy.

T-shirts:

Actually, make that three pairs of jeans. I've got to take my new Diesel ones, they're just so cool, even if they are a bit tight. I'll just wear them for a few hours in the evening or something.

T-shirts:

Oh, and my embroidered cutoffs from Oasis, because I haven't worn them yet. But they don't really count because they're practically shorts. And anyway, jeans hardly take up any room, do they?

OK, that's probably enough jeans. I can always add some more if I need to.

T-shirts: selection. So let's see. Plain white, obviously. Gray, ditto. Black cropped, black vest (Calvin Klein), other black vest (Warehouse, but actually looks nicer), pink sleeveless, pink sparkly, pink—

I stop, halfway through transferring folded-up T-shirts into my case. This is stupid. How am I supposed to predict which T-shirts I'm going to want to wear? The whole point about T-shirts is you choose them in the morning according to your mood, like crystals, or aromatherapy oils. Imagine if I woke up in the mood for my "Elvis Is Groovy" T-shirt and I didn't have it with me?

You know, I think I'll just take them all. I mean, a few T-shirts aren't going to take up much room. I'll hardly even notice them.

I tip them all into my case and add a couple of cropped bra-tops for luck.

Excellent. This capsule approach is working really well. OK, what's next?

Ten minutes later, Suze wanders back into the room, holding two mugs of tea and three KitKats to share. (We've come to agree that four sticks, frankly, doesn't do it.)

"Here you are," she says—then gives me a closer look. "Bex, are you OK?"

"I'm fine," I say, rather pink in the face. "I'm just trying to fold up this insulated vest a bit smaller."

I've already packed a denim jacket and a leather jacket, but you just can't count on September weather, can you? I mean, at the moment it's hot and sunny, but it might well start snowing tomorrow. And what happens if Luke and I go for a really rustic country walk? Besides which, I've had this gorgeous Patagonia vest for ages, and I've only worn it once. I try to fold it again, but it slithers out of my hands and onto the floor. God, this reminds me of camping trips with the Brownies, trying to get my sleeping bag back into its tube.

"How long are you going for, again?" asks Suze.

"Three days." I give up trying to squash the vest into the size of a matchbox, and it springs jauntily back to shape. Discomfited, I sink onto the bed and take a sip of tea. What I don't understand is, how do other people manage to pack so lightly? You see businesspeople all the time, striding onto planes with only a tiny shoe-box suitcase on wheels. How do they do it? Do they have magic shrinking clothes?

"Why don't you take your holdall as well?" suggests Suze.

"D'you think?" I look uncertainly at my overflowing suitcase. Come to think of it, maybe I don't need three pairs of boots. Or a fur stole.

Then suddenly it occurs to me that Suze goes away nearly every weekend, and she only takes a tiny squashy bag. "Suze, how do you pack? Do you have a system?"

"I dunno," she says vaguely. "I suppose I still do what they taught us at Miss Burton's. You work out an outfit for each occasion—and stick to that." She begins to tick off on her fingers. "Like . . . driving outfit, dinner, sitting by the pool, game of tennis . . ." She looks up. "Oh yes, and each garment should be used at least three times."

God, Suze is a genius. She knows all this kind of stuff. Her parents sent her to Miss Burton's Academy when she was eighteen, which is some posh place in London where they teach you things like how to talk to a bishop and get out of a sports car in a miniskirt. She knows how to make a rabbit out of chicken wire, too.

Quickly I start to jot some broad headings on a piece of paper. This is much more like it. Much better than randomly stuffing things into a case. This way, I won't have any superfluous clothes, just the bare minimum.

Outfit 1: Sitting by pool (sunny). Outfit 2: Sitting by po...

Revue de presse

"A laugh-a-minute read" (Glamour)

"Sophie Kinsella's likeable characters and her keen eye for the absurd make this book hugely enjoyable." (Waterstones Books Quarterly)

"Witty and hilarious" (Cosmopolitan)

"Kinsella comes good with lots of light-hearted laughs and a mushy ending to die for." (Mirror)

"Fast, funny and slick, this is a sure-fire bestseller." (Sunday Mirror) --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Broché .

Détails sur le produit

  • Poche: 400 pages
  • Editeur : Dell (2 mars 2004)
  • Collection : Shopaholic
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ISBN-10: 0440241812
  • ISBN-13: 978-0440241812
  • Dimensions du produit: 17,6 x 10,6 x 2,9 cm
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.5 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (10 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: 45.665 en Livres anglais et étrangers (Voir les 100 premiers en Livres anglais et étrangers)
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En savoir plus sur l'auteur

Ancienne journaliste financière, Sophie Kinsella est l'auteur des Petits Secrets d'Emma (Belfond, 2005 ; Pocket, 2008), de Samantha, bonne à rien faire (Belfond, 2007 ; Pocket, 2010), Lexi Smart a la mémoire qui flanche (Belfond, 2009 ; Pocket, 2011), Très chère Sadie (Belfond, 2010) et des fameuses aventures de Becky Bloomwood : Les Confessions d'une accro du shopping (Belfond, 2002, réédité en 2004 ; Pocket, 2004), Becky à Manhattan (Belfond, 2003 ; Pocket, 2005), L'accro du shopping dit oui (Belfond, 2004 ; Pocket, 2006), L'accro du shopping a une sœur (Belfond, 2006 ; Pocket, 2007), L'accro du shopping attend un bébé (Belfond, 2008 ; Pocket, 2009) et Mini-accro du shopping (Belfond, 2011).
Elle a figuré sur toutes les listes de best-sellers avec cette série vendue dans trente-six pays.
Sophie Kinsella vit à Londres avec son mari et leurs quatre fils.

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Commentaires en ligne 

4.5 étoiles sur 5
4.5 étoiles sur 5
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5 internautes sur 5 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 endore plus delirant! 14 septembre 2003
Par lulu
Format:Broché
On ne pensait pas cela possible et pourtant...
Rebecca va parvenir dans ce roman à nous démontrer qu'elle pouvait aller encore plus loin dans la fièvre acheteuse que ce qu'elle avait réussit à faire dans "the secret dreamworld...".
Au début du roman Rebecca a pris une bonne résolution: elle n'achètera plus que ce qui est absolument nécessaire. Mais on comprend très vite (dès la deuxième page!) que ce ne sera pas aussi simple... Et puis rebecca part pour new York. Et là l'inpossible devient réalité, même pour le lecteur. rebecca se laisse entrainer dans dans un tourbillon d'achat plus qu'impressionant.
Mais aussi il faut la comprendre, elle est à New York la plus grande surface marchande du monde! Alors pourquoi suivre une visite guidée de la ville quand on peut aller faire les magasins? Pourquoi s'extasier devant la plus vieille église de la ville quand il y a un magasin Saks devant soi?
Dans ce second roman, les situations sont encore plus incroyables, les réactions de rebecca enocre plus délirantes. On rit encore plus tout en souhaitant ne jamais devenir comme Rebecca!
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1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Léger et prenant ! 25 juin 2007
Par clacou
Format:Poche|Achat authentifié par Amazon
Toujours dans la même veine que les précédents "Shopaholic", tout simplement drôle : c'est léger, divertissant et se lit en tour de main ! On retrouve les aventures de Becky partie s'installer à Manhattan avec Luke, toujours aussi fan de shopping et qui découvre les ventes privées de New-York, etc etc et se retrouve confrontée à ses problèmes d'argent. A dévorer !!!!
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 great! 10 décembre 2013
Format:Broché|Achat authentifié par Amazon
suite du premier livre de la collection en anglais toujours et aussi bien !
à recommander absolument à toutes les jeunettes fans de shopping
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 J'aime-j'aime-j'aime 25 août 2013
Par Airelle
Format:Format Kindle|Achat authentifié par Amazon
Rebecca Bloomwood, un personnage tonique, rafraîchissant, pas aussi superficiel que l'on pourrait croire de premier abord. Elle a un culot phénoménal, mais elle en assume les conséquences.
J'aime l'écriture de Sophie Kinsella : pas de mots de 4 lettres toutes les deux lignes et beaucoup de retenue pour décrire les émois amoureux de ses personnages.
J'ai hâte de découvrir les nouvelles folies de Rebecca.
Ralphe
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 excellent 2 juillet 2013
Format:Broché|Achat authentifié par Amazon
des magasins partout et notre chère Betty complétement perdue au milieu de toutes ces marques, par contre côté culture, Betty a encore beaucoup de progrès à faire....Merci de me faire rire chère Betty
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