The Shopaholic books were my foray into British chick lit. Unlike everyone else, I didn't read Bridget Jones's Diary until years after it came out, and I've never seen the movie. When I picked up these books (and I actually read the third one first), I was entertained and amused by Becky Bloomwood's antics. After the first three books I think the series got a bit stale, and it definitely jumped the shark when Becky had a baby. Being air-headed and irresponsible can be sort of funny when you're young and single, less so when you're responsible for a child.
So, why do I love and hate these books at the same time? The love comes from being entertained. The hate comes from the fact that these books are in many ways the antithesis of all of my values. I don't want to encourage young women to be dumb and irresponsible. I don't want to encourage them to get by on their looks and charm and think only about landing a man and a designer purse. Internal conflict! I have these feelings in a broader sense about chick lit as a genre. I enjoy reading it sometimes, and then I hate myself for it. Yes, this is absolutely a first world problem.