Alexa Chung’s It makes us ask ‘What?!’

It’s hard to know where to start with Alexa Chung’s new book, ‘It’.

First off, I have to ask in all seriousness, is this a joke? Has she been set up? Did a publishing agent have a mad half hour in which it was decided that this was a good idea?

Secondly, I have to wonder, is it just that I don’t ‘get it’?

Alexa Chung, 29, is an international style icon. She's had a Mulberry bag named after her, is contributing editor to Vogue and has been voted 'Style Icon' three times in a row at the British Style awards. There's no doubting that this girl knows her fashion and has created a personal style that's unique, quirky and enviable.

But quite what she, and her publishers, where hoping to achieve in 'It' is uncertain.

As I flip through the pages it becomes clear that no, this is not a joke.

And there’s nothing to get.

Nothing. The numbness of the prose and the set-up spontaneity of the selfies and over-thought photographs of things that don’t need photographing gives you the uncomfortable feeling of watching someone embarrass themselves in public. And as they don’t seem to be cringing over it, it’s hard to not do it for them.

[Watch: LFW SS14 Blogger etiquette]
[Alexa Chung, VB stylish at Vogue dinner party]

The main thing the book lacks is personality. And with that, a sense of humour. If it were a personal ad (which, as a self indulgent tribute to herself, one could see it as), GSOH would not be a box ticked.

How else can you explain gems such as the following offered up without the slightest hint of irony or sarcasm:

(On a photo of her best friend)  “Here she is pretending to win the title of Miss World. This is exactly the type of weird thing you shouldn’t talk about or print in a book if you’re ever given the opportunity.”

Translation: I just have such an awesome, unconventional time and  so much fun with my oddball mates. I shouldn’t share it, because you probably won’t get it.

And

“How to rage. Grab a balloon and a best friend. Go to a festival in a desert. Be 24.”
(What does this even mean?)

In the same way that sometime TV presenter Alexa presents with a laconic air of ‘I’m too cool to be doing this’ (or anything for that matter) the book reeks of being too cool for school, and retaining that image is something that’s very serious indeed.

It’s a vain collection of things she’s decided make her look cool.  And if this is what  ‘It’ is, it’s pretty boring.

Fortunately there isn’t much text. But even in small doses, it seems to have inexplicably escaped any editor’s red pen.

“I’ll always prefer a girl in an oversized t-shirt than an undersized boob tube but that’s because I’m a girl, or a tomboy, and not a boy. I’m confusing myself so I’ll end here.”

And then we get to the drawings, which I could go to town on but I won’t because Alexa told Vogue: “Drawing is probably the main, number one thing I can do — that I’m best at.” And I don’t want to ruin her illusions. All I’ll say is that I hope she’s being genuinely modest here.

Am I missing something?

Something that hasn't been grasped in the book is that in-jokes are only funny to those ‘in’volved, and here they serve entirely to alienate the audience.

Throwing them out there on the page for others to puzzle over is only marginally better than if you bothered to explain them to the rest of us, ending with, ‘but you probably had to be there’.

Is this it?

The title of the book should have forewarned us. Its vague, non-specific promise of something so all-encompassing it cannot be named is false. And deeply pretentious.

I’ll be the first to admit Alexa looks effortlessly stylish in everything she wears, but the intelligence Karl Largerfeld says is behind those excellent outfit choices woefully fails to make an appearance in the tome.

“Sometimes when I need answers I like to take my questions to Google,” she says in a chapter on heartbreak.

“I have googled ‘how long does heartbreak last?’ The result more popular than that was ‘how long does heartburn last?’. This implies people suffer from heartburn more than they do heartbreak which is a good thing because heartbreak sucks way fucking more than acid reflux ever could.’

No. It means most people don't mistake the internet for a crystal ball.

No doubt Alexa's fans will find in these pages proof that she’s supercool, and someone to aspire to. But it’s all a façade. It’s a micromanaged view of her life carefully presented without a thing left to chance.

As summed up by this hilariously cringe sentence: “I like to sit in the Rothko room of the Tate Modern because it makes me feel calm and that doesn’t happen very often.”

Has this ever happened? More than once?

Occasionally, very occasionally, there is the slightest hint of irony. There is the odd sentence where Alexa seems to be mocking the superficiality she’s created.

(On fashion week and sitting FROW): “It is important to never enjoy the moment but rather focus on the fashion show that is happening next so that you don’t get shafted in the seat department and discover - horror of horrors – there is no room left for you and you will be relegated to the second row, aka the wilderness.”

And not to spoil the ending but to conclude I’ll just borrow the words from the last two pages of the book, written whimsically in the sand:

"F**k you. The end."