This was one of the most infuriating MCs ever. I'm having a hard time remembering when was the last time I wished so many bad things on a MC. If I made it through the entirety of this book it was only because I was so looking forward to the moment she'd get what was coming to her... which wasn't quite as gratifying as I'd hoped it'd be.
Becky is selfish, judgmental, childish, has absolutely no self-control, and makes no damn sense. She's a shopaholic in the truest sense of the word, in fact, it probably falls short to whatever she is. She should be getting like actual medical help, therapy, something. She is self-destructive and has little regard for how it affects everyone else. Her compulsive shopping problem is not relatable, it is not cute, it is not funny, it is not even amusing no matter how the author tries to spin it every time Becky fucks up. She digs herself deeper and deeper into her problems and acts like a martyr when she has brought every single bad thing on herself. She gives you SO MUCH second-hand embarrassment and not even in a funny, enjoyable, 'isn't she an absolute adorable dork' kind of way, nope. She is absolutely maddening. I wanted to slap her and put her in jail and kept wondering why her banks were being so freaking lenient. Is that how it works in The U.K? can you just be that irresponsible with your money and get away with it with a sorry and puppy-dog eyes? HONESTLY? LET ME GRAB MY THINGS, I'M MOVING RIGHT NOW.
Except, I don't really want to be that kind of adult. I'm 25 myself and I couldn't relate to Becky in any way. She acted like a stubborn teen that has yet to figure out how the real world works. The ending was utter BS, along with the romance that made NO SENSE. What is a sensible guy doing with such a selfish, ignorant fuck-up? I have no idea. There's no chemistry, there's no real mutual interests, there's really nothing there. This is crap chick-lit, no matter how good the prose was with its quirky dialogue(the reason I'm giving it two stars and not one.)
When I was done I went to see how many more books there were to this, figuring there would be one or two more to give this half-assed character a chance to grow, and what did I find? There are SEVEN more books. Surely, no character needs seven books to grow the hell up, right? How much longer is the reader going to have to put up with her annoying crap? She's probably so much better by the second book, no doubt.
So I got a hold of the book and skimmed through it, not willing to invest more time than I had already wasted on this one, and what did I find?
Well ... I'm not going to spoil no matter how much I hated this book and main character. Let's just say I chucked it at the wall and decided there's no way I'm touching another book of this series. I don't have that kind of patience.