edie as a guilty pleasure

its not all i read, but its truly my guilty pleasure. i'm always one to gravitate towards these romanticized neurtoic obsessions with reading about women & madness, or of girls before their time, ect, the bad girl, the it girls, ect or auto-bio's on mad girls, or rebellious women, i've mild compulsive reads over, sylvia plath, anne sexton, virginia wolfe, frances farmer, anais nin, jean rhys, you get the idea...
its strange how i've managed avoiding edie, & reading about edie for such a long time, (there is too much out there!)i've always been mildly interested & apprehensive, how can you not, & i've always found the whole avant-garde factory era so interesting & so full of so many other creative artists, & i just well overlooked edie as some kind of american wasp gal,or a pretty hanger-on with endless $ pockets. i can't say anything came as a sursprise, i already knew that andy was just a soul-sucking monster, & i already knew of her crazy junk antics, but i was fascinated by this very eccentric wasp upbringing of hers, these American old money richies are completely just out there... its a wonder anyone survives these families...
in any case, embarrassing or not, who knows, i couldn't put down edie:an american girl, it wasn't idealised, & is entirely a collection of quotes from those who knew her, loved & hated her, told in a narrative time line.