I went through a tiny phase of shoplifting when I was about 15. I stole approximately three Rimmel lipsticks from Boots, all on separate occasions, and a hairband with daisies on it from Topshop. I don’t know why I did this. It was quite Winona-ish of me, as I didn’t *need* to steal a £1.99 lipstick, even on my limited pocket money. This made it all the more baffling, because I really didn’t enjoy it – it terrified me, and I’m not someone who gets off on the thrill of being terrified. I think it was just to see it I could. Turned out I could, so I left it at that.
I had a friend who was a real shoplifter. I would go shopping with her and she would go into changing rooms with stacks of clothes, then somehow walk out wearing a new jacket – walking out like she owned the place. She’d put a silver ring on each finger before exiting the jewellery department, asking a security guard for directions on the way. I’d hang back, looking far guiltier than she ever did.
Fast-forward to the present day and I love Trinkets by Kirsten Smith so much I can hardly put it into words. As you’ve probably gathered, it’s a book about shoplifting, which (maybe due to my shady criminal past?) I find rather fascinating. However, it could be a book about anything and it would be beautiful.
It’s the style that really grabbed me – the story is narrated by three girls and their chapters are differentiated because one is told in verse, another in diary entries and only one in plain prose. It’s gorgeously written.
I should not be surprised, because Kirsten Smith is a screenwriter who wrote such gems as 10 Things I Hate About You. I hope she writes more films, and more books, because they are all awesome. I love her and I love Trinkets more than anything else I have read in ages.