Bitter is the New Black

by Jen Lancaster

My husband thinks that I have a really strange sense of humor because I don’t find traditional humor very funny (this coming from a person who finds Mr. Bean and random British comedy shows hysterical).  He dragged me to a comedy club once but I didn’t find it very enjoyable.  I did laugh out of politeness because, well, my mom raised me right, and because I had to give kudos to the comedian…I mean who else is willing to climb up on a stage and subject themselves to an audience’s complete and utter rejection?  You couldn’t pay me enough to do that.

So I don’t find rehearsed jokes very amusing.  Or reading embarrassing stories about people.  Or Seinfeld (sorry).  Cartoons in the Sunday times?  The funnies are not funny.  And I detest America’s Funniest Home Videos.  No really I do.  Why do people laugh at other people getting smacked in the face with a bat?  How is getting hurt funny enough to merit a grand prize?  As an aside, I believe that laughing at another’s misfortune may just be what is wrong with America.

It is the stuff that nobody else finds comical that cracks me up.  Once my brother and I were at a fundraiser and during a speech an audience member sneezed loudly.  No, loud is an understatement.  I swear, it was the sneeze heard around the world.   It literally echoed.  But the funny thing was (pun intended) that as the echoes reverberated nobody else was doubled over with laughter except my brother and I.  Everyone was staring at us trying to figure out what was so funny.  Needless to say we sobered up pretty quickly.

As a sarcastic person myself, I also find sarcasm extremely humorous.  If you read my blog at all you already know that I love to utilize sarcasm to make the unfunny funny.  (If you didn’t know that and read regularly then I am really not doing a very good job on this blog, am I?)  Anyway, apart from myself and a few other people I’ve met along the way, author Jen Lancaster is one of the most sarcastic people I have ever come across and hence one of the funniest. 

Bitter is the New Black is the autobiography of an extremely spoiled, elitist Vice President at Corp.com (love her generalizations in this book) who unexpectedly gets laid off during the tough economic times that follow 9/11.   This book chronicles her descent from a high-flying executive earning $250,000 a year to someone who can’t even score a temp position for which she is completely over qualified.  Despite her perseverance she remains unemployed for 22 months and as a result, she and her boyfriend Fletch find themselves moving out of their unaffordable Chicago loft and into a  far less desirable neighborhood.  They can’t afford their groceries, health insurance, or medicine, and Jen’s attempts at finding employment are rebuffed at every opportunity.

One wouldn’t think that a book based on the struggle to find employment could be an enjoyable read, but because Jen Lancaster does not mince words and speaks from the heart no matter how shallow it makes her seem, she manages to do the impossible. What made me love the author was the fact that she never once gave up or felt sorry for herself. Faced with her circumstances, I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t be as motivated as her. 

Though crass and arrogant at times, I think that everyone can find a little bit of themselves in the author.  The truth is, there is a moral to this story for all of us.  Especially during the current economic crisis.  Who isn’t guilty of materialism at one point or another?  Who doesn’t splurge on a Prada bag or justify $300 highlights on occasion?  Who doesn’t  take their financial status for granted, never thinking it could unexpectedly be taken away from them?  Through her wit, brutal honesty, elitist remarks, and unique footnotes, Jen somehow manages to endear herself to her reader all the while reminding us to appreciate what is really important in life. 

To sum it up, allow me to give you the full title of this book: Bitter is the New Black – Confessions of a condescending, egomaniacal, self-centered, smart-ass, or why you should never carry a Prada Bag to the unemployment office. 

How can you not want to read it now?