Amanda Brown

You have black rings under your eyes."

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

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!” Serena pointed to her saline-enhanced chest. “My boobs are as perky as the day I put them on my credit card!”
“So what if they’ll never sag,” Margot said, unimpressed. “They’re as hard as rocks.”
“They’re also blocking the only natural light in this room,” Elle whispered to Underdog, who

Margot shrieked. “Not that one. Don’t you know anything? J-Lo never should have done that cover! There’s an In Style Weddings curse. Like three of their cover brides, including Courtney Thorne-Smith, were divorced before the issue hit the stand!”

Warner, hoping this would help him slip that “something” on her finger

Warner…broke…up…with…me!

Warner…broke…up…with…me!”

e makings of a great vice president.” This would infuriate him. The second son in his family, he had