《时尚女魔头》《穿普拉达的恶魔》英文原版 - (TXT全文下载)

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《时尚女魔头》《The Devil Wears Prada》《穿普拉达的恶魔》英文原版

　　[美]维斯贝格尔（Weisberger,L.）

时尚女魔头介绍：
　　畅销职场小说《时尚女魔头》《The Devil Wears Prada》，该书作者系全球顶级杂志《VOGUE》离职助理劳伦・魏丝伯格（Lauren Weisberger），以犀利幽默的笔触述了由一名大学毕业生跻身时尚圈内部的曲折离奇经历，影射出时尚界的众生百态，从某种程度上也揭示了时尚圈不为人知的内幕及真相。
劳伦・魏丝伯格本人就是一个从学校刚毕业不久的女孩，她在毕业之后进入了顶顶大名的美国《Vogue》杂志担任总编辑助理。大概在工作了一年后辞职，之后就写了这本书，把她自己的工作经历写了出来。书中那个号称是从 地狱里来的老板毫无疑问就是现实生活中的美国版《Vogue》主编Anna Wintour，由于“老百姓们对于名人及富人们的生活总是好奇的，如果这些家伙在光鲜外表之下还有那么些‘不太漂亮的事’那更是会掉足读者胃口。该书在国外一问世就引起广泛争议，尤其是时尚界反响强烈，雄踞《纽约时报》畅销排行近三十周。

　　本书作者是顶级杂志《VOGUE》离职助理，以笔触犀利的故事影射时尚真相。在国外一问世就引起广泛争议，尤其是时尚界反响强烈。小说中，刚刚大学毕业的安德里亚通过考试，进入挤满时尚杂志社的伊莱亚斯大楼，开始为这本美国销量最大、最有声望的《天桥》服务。她是主编米兰达的初级助理。不过帮助这个时尚界最有影响力的女人完成日常事务、看她编辑杂志、会见作家和模特到底意味着什么？米兰达是魔鬼一般的女人――她穿零号一线时装，吃熏肉、冰淇淋加喝星巴克却从不发胖，每天看九种报纸和七种杂志，嗜好爱玛仕纱巾，永远弄不清助理的名字。安德里亚任何时候都紧张焦虑。她终于发现自己没法再和男友保持正常关系，在巴黎的时装秀场，不知名的助理对时尚界的传奇人物说出了惊天动地的话……

　　1
　　The light hadn’t even officially turned green at the intersection of
　　17th and Broadway before an army of overconfident yellow cabs roared
　　past the tiny deathtrap I was attempting to navigate around the city
　　streets.Clutch, gas, shift (neutral to first? Or first to
　　second?),release clutch , I repeated over and over in my head, the
　　mantra offering little comfort and even less direction amid the
　　screeching midday traffic. The little car bucked wildly twice before
　　it lurched forward through the intersection. My heart flip-flopped
　　in my chest. Without warning, the lurching evened out and I began to
　　pick up speed. Lots of speed. I glanced down to confirm visually
　　that I was only in second gear, but the rear end of a cab loomed so
　　large in the windshield that I could do nothing but jam my foot on
　　the brake pedal so hard that my heel snapped off. Shit! Another pair
　　of seven-hundred-dollar shoes sacrificed to my complete and utter
　　lack of grace under pressure: this clocked in as my third such
　　breakage this month. It was almost a relief when the car stalled
　　(I’d obviously forgotten to press the clutch when attempting to
　　brake for my life). I had a few seconds―peaceful seconds if one
　　could overlook the angry honking and varied forms of the word “fuck”
　　being hurled at me from all directions―to pull off my Manolos and
　　toss them into the passenger seat. There was nowhere to wipe my
　　sweaty hands except for the suede Gucci pants that hugged my thighs
　　and hips so tightly they’d both begun to tingle within minutes of my
　　securing the final button. My fingers left wet streaks across the ............

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