...here--on Vinegar Street--nothing about Poppy alarms anyone. No one bats an eyelid at her ankle-length black dress (decorated with a pattern of white skulls) or her long silk gloves (black, naturally)or her hair (very long, very straight and very black). And as for her shoes (the clumpiest, highest and--you've guessed it!--blackest platforms you've ever seen) ... well, amongst the rubble and weeds of Vinegar Street, Poppy fits in just fine.
Vinegar Street is no ordinary street and Poppy Picklesticks is certainly no ordinary girl, but the two complement each other perfectly. So when Mandy Nylon--all blonde hair, perfect make-up, neon-white teeth, look-at-my-curves dresses and a backside that wiggles so hard you could attach cocktail shakers to it--moves into the street, Poppy's world is rocked. Everyone is charmed by the newcomer but Poppy and the tingling voice inside her head are pretty sure that there is more to this woman than meets the eye and a battle of wills that leaves the reader pretty breathless ensues.
Philip Ridley certainly has a way with words and in Vinegar Streethe lets rip with a barrage of snappy dialogue and crafty prose that runs like a river of poetry across...