So Ya Wanna Be A Trophy Wife?

So Ya Wanna Be a Trophy Wife? is a savage, illustrated, rhyming satire that treats modern femininity like elite athletic training.

Not all heroes wear belts. Some carry Birkins.

Welcome to Trophy Wife Training Camp - twelve rounds with the hardest opponent you'll ever face: perfection.

This isn't a fairytale. It's a job. Harder than becoming a Navy SEAL. Harder than getting a PhD. Harder than training for the Olympics while on a juice cleanse.

Your schedule? 24/7.

Your salary? Beauty and survival.

Your benefits? None - unless you win.

Guided by a martini-sipping, pearls-wearing ghost from New York who screams truth between rounds ("Flat hair is a felony." "Facial movement is malpractice." "Calories kill." "You don't age - you expire."), readers are taken through brutal training nobody admits out loud: body, face, teeth, hair, posture, wardrobe, IQ, manners, entourage, mindset, and money reality.

Because here's what she knows:

Love is optional. Stability is not.

Pretty has power.

Money solves 90% of problems.

Being a wife is work - she refuses to work at being pretty and have a job outside the home too.

Inside this unapologetic guide:

• Every savage round of training: skin, hair, teeth, nails, body, wardrobe, manners, languages, friends, discipline

• Zero excuses. Zero carbs. Zero broke friends.

• Full glam. Full commitment.

This isn't a love story - it's a survival montage. You'll sweat through blowouts, bleed cash on Botox, and inhale more toxic dye fumes than a nail tech in Queens. You'll want to quit. You'll break down. Even your crying has to be pretty.

Here's the unfair scorecard: He works one job - money. You work two - beauty and discipline. He's applauded for wanting youth and pretty. You're called a gold digger for wanting stability. Savage.

Perfect as a gag gift, conversation starter, or cultural wake-up call, this book skewers dating culture, beauty standards, and modern power dynamics with brutal humor and glossy illustrations.

So Ya Wanna Be a Trophy Wife?

Lace up. Gloss up. Shut up. Show up.

Because love alone won't save you -but a seven-bedroom house with a guest wing and a nanny might.