Amanda Brown

Elle had been Miss June on the USC calendar for three consecutive years. She was president of Delta Gamma and of the Intersorority Council. She had practically invented her major in sociopolitical jewelry design by merging technical classes at the architecture school with sociological research on tribal ornamentation and feminist critiques of beauty myths.

“Mmm-hmm, from Connecticut.

into her Prada bag and departed quickly

She felt trapped in an Aaron Spelling drama where bad things happen to good-looking people.

Elle Woods glanced at the reflections of her bickering sorority sisters Margot and Serena in her vanity mirror. She sat on a pink-skirted stool with faux fur trim that matched the comforter on her bed, where her Chihuahua, Underdog, was comfortably resting.

“At least mine won’t sag!”

“At least mine won’t sag!

known among the nip and tuck crowd as “the Best for Breasts,” had done Serena’s work.

matched the Nike swoosh on her little-used cross-trainers.

frequent-slicer plan