Dolly Alderton’s memoir “Everything I Know About Love” feels like sitting across from your wittiest friend at a pub as she recounts the most mortifying, hilarious, and heartfelt moments of her twenties. With the sharp observational humor of a seasoned columnist and the vulnerability of someone who has survived the battlefield of modern dating, Alderton crafts a memoir that is both universally relatable and distinctly her own.
As someone who came of age alongside MSN Messenger, overplucked eyebrows, and the constant pressure to be “cool,” I found myself nodding vigorously through Alderton’s painfully honest accounts of suburban adolescence and the chaos of early adulthood. This isn’t just another millennial memoir – it’s a love letter to female friendship that resonates far beyond generational boundaries.
The Trajectory: From MSN Messenger to Self-Acceptance
Alderton structures her memoir chronologically, beginning with her teenage obsession with boys (whom she barely knew in real life) and ending with her hard-won self-acceptance at age 28. The narrative arc follows her from the cul-de-sacs of North London suburbia to the booze-soaked halls of Exeter University, and finally to the complicated landscape of adult relationships in London.
What makes this journey compelling is Alderton’s unflinching honesty about her mistakes. She details her struggles with binge drinking, people-pleasing, and using male attention as validation with such candor that you can’t help but root for her. When she writes about waking up after another blackout night, or taking a cab to Leamington Spa at 3 AM to see a boy, or spiraling into an obsession with a guru she’s never met, we’re not witnessing sensationalized “wild girl” stories – we’re seeing the vulnerable underside of a young woman trying desperately to find herself.
The Heart of the Matter: Female Friendship
While men weave in and out of Alderton’s narrative, the true love story here is between her and her best friend Farly. Their 20-year friendship forms the backbone of the book, providing stability amid the chaos of Alderton’s dating disasters.
One of the most poignant sections recounts Farly’s engagement and subsequent breakup, how the women rallied around each other during the devastating loss of Farly’s sister Florence to leukemia, and their eventual trip to Sardinia when what would have been Farly’s wedding day arrives. Alderton writes:
“I couldn’t stop thinking about Farly’s words in the following few days; I thought about how we’d known each other for twenty years and how, in all that time, I’d never got bored of her. I thought of how I’d only fallen more and more in love with her the older we grew and the more experiences we shared.”
These reflections reveal the memoir’s true purpose: to celebrate the consistent, evolving love between friends that ultimately teaches us how to love ourselves.
Stylistic Elements: From Recipes to Bad Date Diaries
What elevates Alderton’s memoir beyond standard autobiography is her creative structure. Throughout the chronological narrative, she weaves in:
- “Bad Date Diaries” – Short, punchy recounts of dating disasters
- “The Bad Party Chronicles” – Hilarious stories of social gatherings gone wrong
- “Recipes” – Comfort food recipes tied to emotional states
- Mock emails and texts – Satirical communications that perfectly capture millennial anxieties
- “Everything I Knew About Love at [Age]” – Evolving lists that show her changing perspective
This variety keeps the pace lively and showcases Alderton’s versatility as a writer. The satirical emails (like the wedding invitation that passive-aggressively requests expensive gifts while claiming “no presents, just your presence!”) are particularly brilliant, demonstrating Alderton’s skill at skewering social conventions.
Voice and Tone: Self-Deprecating Charm with Emotional Depth
Alderton’s voice is the book’s greatest strength. She strikes a remarkable balance between:
- Biting humor – “My first email address was [email protected] which I set up aged twelve in my school IT room. I chose the number 14 as I assumed I would only be emailing for two years before it became babyish.”
- Raw vulnerability – “I had never wanted any of this. I never wanted her to spend every weekend with Scott’s friends and their wives at barbecues in bloody Balham. I didn’t want to see her for catch-up dinners. I didn’t want her to move out after a year.”
- Hard-earned wisdom – “Integration into each other’s lives should be completely equal; you should both make an effort to be involved with your respective friends, families, interests and careers. If it’s unbalanced, resentment is on its way to you.”
This tonal range prevents the book from becoming either a glib collection of anecdotes or a heavy-handed self-help guide. Alderton knows when to make you laugh and when to make you cry.
Critical Assessment: Strength in Specificity, Occasional Self-Indulgence
Alderton’s greatest strength lies in her ability to transform specific, personal experiences into universally resonant truths. Her descriptions of suburban adolescence, university debauchery, and London flatshares are rendered with such precision that they transcend the particulars of her middle-class British upbringing.
However, the memoir occasionally suffers from self-indulgence. Some anecdotes feel like inside jokes that don’t translate to the reader, and certain sections—particularly in the middle portion about university life—could benefit from tighter editing. The repetitive nature of her drinking stories and romantic misadventures sometimes blurs together, making the middle section feel slightly bloated.
Additionally, while Alderton does acknowledge her privilege, some readers might find her struggles with identity and self-worth difficult to relate to given her relatively stable, middle-class background. These criticisms, however, are minor compared to the book’s overall impact.
Comparative Context: Where It Stands in Modern Memoirs
“Everything I Know About Love” can be placed among other successful millennial coming-of-age memoirs, but its focus on platonic rather than romantic love distinguishes it from the pack. Unlike Sloane Crosley’s “I Was Told There’d Be Cake” or Lena Dunham’s “Not That Kind of Girl,” Alderton’s work feels less concerned with crafting a cool persona and more interested in genuine self-reflection.
The book most closely resembles Nora Ephron’s essays in its blend of humor and heartbreak, though Alderton’s voice is distinctly of her generation. This was Alderton’s debut book, preceding her novel “Ghosts” and establishing her as a significant voice in contemporary British literature.
The Final Takeaway: A Testament to Growing Through (Not Just Up)
By the memoir’s conclusion, when Alderton moves into her own flat and reflects on the various forms of love that have shaped her, readers witness a hard-won maturity. Her “Twenty-eight Lessons Learnt in Twenty-eight Years” feels earned rather than prescribed, making insights like “More often than not, the love someone gives you will be a reflection of the love you give yourself” resonate with authentic wisdom.
The memoir’s final revelation—that the truest love she’s known has been hiding in plain sight through her friendships—provides a satisfying conclusion to her journey. As she writes:
“I woke up safe in my one-woman boat. I was gliding into a new horizon; floating in a sea of love. There it was. Who knew? It had been there all along.”
It’s this fundamental truth—that we learn how to love ourselves through loving and being loved by others—that makes Alderton’s memoir transcend its particular time and place to speak to the universal experience of growing into oneself.
Final Verdict: A Heartfelt, Hilarious Portrait of Modern Womanhood
“Everything I Know About Love” stands out for its authenticity, humor, and emotional intelligence. While occasionally self-indulgent, Alderton’s memoir successfully captures the messy, magnificent journey of finding your footing in adulthood. It reminds us that our missteps and heartbreaks aren’t just embarrassing stories to cringe at later—they’re the very experiences that teach us who we are and what we truly need.
For anyone who has ever felt lost in their twenties, sought validation in the wrong places, or treasured a friendship that outlasted romantic relationships, Alderton’s memoir offers both comfort and clarity. It assures us that we’re not alone in our confusion, and that with enough time, mistakes, and self-reflection, we too might come to understand what love really means.
