Now, as I mentioned, these sisters are pampered, making them targets. Especially in terms of the following detour, which I've charmingly named, not target, but "tangent time."
Where The Grass Is Green And The Girls Are Pretty perpetuates my least-favorite trope about feminine beauty, i.e., the Madonna/whore-like mindset dictating that all women are either 1) so pure that they don't care how they look or 2) so consumed by their appearance that it ruins their lives. In this case, it's bohemian Skye who never wears makeup (but still looks gorgeous!) and ratings queen Peyton who subjects herself to Botox and chemical peels. Surely, most women fall somewhere in the middle of this polarizing cosmetic spectrum (Lipstick? Yes, please! Needles? Not if you paid me!). Nevertheless, Weisberger is so skilled in her development of Peyton and Skye that they never come off as stereotypes. Spoiled? Sometimes. One-dimensional? Never. I could tell because I cared what happened to them.
Still with me? Good. Tangent time over!
Where The Grass Is Green And The Girls Are Pretty isn't as much about right and wrong as it is about relationships. Sister-sister, husband-wife, and mother-daughter. Peyton is the common denominator in all three, and as such is forced to reframe how she relates to her nearest and dearest. And things get pretty ugly before she understands that it's not Emmys, country clubs, or prestigious schools, but authenticity with her loved ones that matters.
So. If you like scandal and satire wrapped up in heart, then Where The Grass Is Green And The Girls Are Pretty is the sharp but fetching flamingo on your library's green -- but not too green -- front lawn.