Gorgeous

I’ll admit, I went into *Gorgeous* expecting a fluffy, *Devil Wears Prada*-meets-*Mean Girls* romp—and while it *does* deliver on that front, it also blindsided me with how sharp and layered it is. Rudnick’s Becky is a protagonist you root for not because she’s *likable* in the traditional sense, but because she’s *real*: her insecurities aren’t magically cured by a makeover, and her snarky inner monologue (brilliantly rendered by Morton’s deadpan delivery) keeps the story from tipping into afterschool-special territory. The satire hits hardest in the first half, where the audiobook’s pacing is tight and the jokes land like rapid-fire darts. A scene where Becky navigates a high-society gala while internally roasting every guest had me rewinding just to catch all the zingers. That said, the third act stumbles slightly under the weight of its own ambition. The plot takes a sudden turn into dystopian corporate conspiracy, and while the ideas are intriguing (think *Black Mirror* meets *America’s Next Top Model*), the shift feels rushed. Morton’s narration remains stellar—her ability to voice everything from a snooty fashion editor to a sentient, sassy AI is impressive—but even she can’t fully smooth over the tonal whiplash. Still, the audiobook’s strengths far outweigh its missteps. It’s rare to find a YA novel that’s this funny *and* this willing to interrogate the very tropes it’s playing with. If you love your social commentary with a side of glitter and heart, this is a standout—just be prepared for a finale that’s more *thought-provoking* than *tidily satisfying*.