If you are a fashion idiot, this is the book for you. Fashion 101 is truly a crash course in clothing. Written for teenagers, it describes every conceivable clothing style, with tips on how to wear them and the history behind each item. For the most part, info is provided in an encyclopedic fashion, making it more of a reference than something you have to sit down and read in large gulps. Everything is divided into sections – jewelry, dresses, tops, shoes, etc.

If you are a little fashion-phobic, but want to up your style, this is a great, unintimidating way to get your feet wet. Everything is explained for the layman, from fabrics to necklines. The only downside is that there are no photographs – everything is illustrated with drawings. I imagine getting permission to reprint famous and not-so-famous fashions is a daunting task – both physically and financially. But this definitely has some useful info, including the tale behind the creation of Hermes’ infamous Birkin bag – something that I didn’t even know.

The Tokyo Look Book is a wonderful collection of these looks. With photos taken on the streets, at clubs, at the mall, and on the subway, every conceivable look is captured. The book is divided into five broad chapters: trendy teens, subversive, youth street fashion, high fashion women, and working men. I find the subversive section the most fascinating, as it covers goths, punks, lolitas, cosplayers, cyber, and more – all those wild, wacky outfits that most people associate with Halloween.

But this isn’t just a photo book. Each chapter has an introduction, explaining some of the cultural, economical, and historical meanings behind different looks. Each photo is not just captioned, but includes detailed information on the outfit captured, the wearer of said outfit, and more. On top of that, there are separate articles on popular Japanese designers and Tokyo-area stores. A glossary rounds out the book, with definitions of more obscure, specifically Japanese terms. Planning a trip to Tokyo? A shop list is also included.

The book is comprised of heavy, matte pages, but is soft bound and a reasonable size. This brings together the quality of an art book, with the affordability of a trade book. A great reference for research purposes, but also fun and entertaining for casual aficionados.

Charles James is a designer who is inspiration to many, but known to few. James essentially invented American haute couture in the 1930s. At once charming, difficult, and brilliant, James could not scare away his admirers. With a bold style that focused on carefully structured and intrinsically feminine design, James brought an eroticism to American fashion that had never been seen before.

Richard Martin’s slim volume, published by Assouline, on the late couturier goes far beyond basic biography. It delves into James’s philosophy, and the reasons behind his genius. However, the text is brief – only the first twenty pages or so. The remainder of the book is devoted to what we all came for: the clothes.

Fifty pages of illustrations and photographs are offered up of James’s exquisite work. Many of the photos are old, and not retouched, which adds both a regal air and a frustrating lack of detail to his work. Wisely, the details from each picture are left to an index in the back, so as not to disrupt the photos themselves. Thumbnails remind the reader of the dress, and text offers up info on date, inspiration, material, and construction.

The book is hardbound, with the glossy, heavyweight pages you expect to find in an enormous coffee table book. However, the volume itself has roughly the same dimensions as a standard hardbound novel, and far fewer pages. This is good and bad. On the good side, the volume is easy to store, easy to read, and easy on the wallet – all things that normally prevent me from purchasing other mammoth fashion books. But because of the book’s compact size, there are not nearly enough pictures. Then again, the volume could be 800 pages and that probably wouldn’t even satisfy my hunger for the stunning gowns.

I should preface this review by stating that is “chick lit” and I have never in my life read a chick lit novel. Not Bergdorf Blondes, not The Devil Wears Prada, not Shopaholic. I have never even read a Jane Austen book. I am not really a chick lit kind of gal.The Immaculate Complexion by Edie Bloom was a painless way to ease into the genre.

The novel follows Marnie, a down-to-earth, vintage wearing, organic loving girl who is temping at LeVigne, one of the biggest cosmetics companies in the world. She doesn’t fit in with the anorexic, Botoxed, superficial girls who rule the place. But she has to stick it out so she can save enough money to launch her own, 100% natural cosmetic line with best friend (and full-blown hippie) Holly. Along the way, Marnie must balance a promising relationship with cheese-phile Paul.

The book is a quick, entertaining read. Perfect for lazy summer days by the pool. I love the way the LeVigne girls are portrayed – hilariously stereotyped as being ridiculously shallow and vapid. Like the pregnant PR agent who won’t even eat for one or the Botox parties held in the conference room in the middle of the work day. I also love that Paul is a cheese buyer. I am a huge cheese aficionado, so reading the way he waxes poetic over moldy cheese makes my mouth water.

Overall, I felt as though the book had no plot. It starts with Marnie starting at LeVigne, and ends with Marnie leaving LeVigne. She doesn’t have purpose or direction, other than making enough money to live. Towards the end of the novel, she and Holly decide to start their own cosmetics company, but there is no strife, no struggle. Their company grows seemingly without effort. Plot points presented throughout the book – like a disastrously high-concept product launch, or a mysterious death in the office after hours – are all wrapped up tidily within a few pages. Marnie undergoes a few nerve-wracking paragraphs, then everything blows over.

Marnie herself is often annoying. Much of the book is spent with her whining and basically being a pussy. She doesn’t tell her boyfriend that she is severely lactose intolerant for fear that he will dump her. What kind of woman wants to date a man who would dump them over something so silly? She constantly tells herself she is going to quit, but doesn’t follow through. She is constantly making fun of the Botox Brigade… but goes in for it herself. It is impossible to decide if she is a vintage earth mother, or secretly wants to be part of the “in crowd.”

The best parts of the book are when the LeVigne girls get catty, vapid, and stupid. The things they say and do are so ridiculous and over the top, you think to yourself, “real people aren’t like this.” Until you stop a moment and think about all the people you have ever met, and realize you know at least one person that would fit in well at LeVigne. I wish there were more instances of this in the book, and less of the Marnie/Paul relationship (but remember, I hate romance, so that may just be me). Some of the publicity stunts in the book are just outrageous – who in their right mind would think that sending doves draped with Tiffany & Co jewelry to the windowsills of top fashion editors would be a good idea? Edie Bloom is actually a pseudonym for a writing pair, both of whom used to work in beauty public relations. These ladies have seen all the weird and wacky things that go on in this industry, and it really shows.

The Immaculate Conception can be purchased at Amazon.

This is not exactly a fashion book (ok, this book is in no way whatsoever related to fashion). But Chuck Palahniuk is my favorite author, and I was lucky enough to get a review copy. The review will be up soon, but in the meantime, head over to Amazon and pre-order “Rant” by Chuck Palahniuk (aka – the “Fight Club” author with the hard-to-spell name). The book releases May 1st.