Dolly Alderton probably didn’t realize she was writing a modern bible when she sat down to pen her memoir. But here we are. If you walk into any shared apartment in London, New York, or Sydney, there is a very high statistical probability that a battered, spine-cracked copy of Everything I Know About Love is sitting on a coffee table. Or, more likely, it’s currently being "borrowed" by a friend who saw it on your shelf and promised to return it in a week. They won't.
That’s the thing about this book. It isn't just a memoir; it’s a currency of female friendship. When people talk about how to borrow Everything I Know About Love, they aren't usually talking about a library transaction. They’re talking about that specific rite of passage where a woman in her late twenties realizes her life doesn't look like a romantic comedy and needs Dolly to tell her that it's okay. It’s a messy, loud, and frequently hungover account of growing up.
The Cult of the Borrowed Copy
I’ve seen copies of this book that have traveled further than most airline pilots. There is something deeply personal about handing this specific text to a friend who is going through a "bad patch." You know the one. The breakup that feels like a limb was removed, or the Tuesday night existential crisis where you realize you don't actually like your career path.
Dolly Alderton’s writing works because she isn’t lecturing from a pedestal of perfection. She’s in the mud with you. The book tracks her journey from a teenager obsessed with MSN Messenger and the approval of boys to a woman who realizes that the "great love" of her life might actually be her best friend, Farly. It’s a radical shift in perspective.
Most memoirs by young women focus on the men they've loved. Dolly does that, sure—there are plenty of disastrous dates and questionable decisions involving taxis and wine—but the gravity of the book always pulls back to the women in her life. That is why it’s the most borrowed book of the last decade. It’s a peace offering. It’s a way of saying, "I can’t fix your heart, but this woman explains why it hurts so much."
Why the Hype Never Actually Died
Usually, a trendy book has a shelf life of about eighteen months. You see it everywhere on Instagram, then it migrates to the bargain bins, and finally, it disappears. Everything I Know About Love skipped the disappearance phase. It became a staple.
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Part of the longevity comes from the BBC adaptation, which brought the messy world of Maggie and Birdy (the fictionalized versions of Dolly and Farly) to a wider audience. But even without the TV show, the book stays relevant because the 20s are a universal disaster zone. Whether you were twenty-two in 2012 or you're twenty-two in 2026, the feeling of being "behind" in life is a constant.
Dolly captures the specific agony of the "Saturday morning post-mortem." You know, when you wake up and have to piece together the night before through a series of increasingly embarrassing text messages. She writes about these moments without the typical "girlboss" gloss that infected so much writing in the mid-2010s. It’s gritty. It’s sometimes quite ugly. And that’s why we trust it.
The Logistics of Finding a Copy
If you’re looking to borrow Everything I Know About Love, you have a few options that don't involve theft from your roommate.
- Libby and OverDrive: Most local libraries have the ebook and audiobook versions. Be warned: the waitlist for the audiobook—narrated by Dolly herself—is perpetually long. Her voice adds a layer of dry, British wit that makes the heartbreak bits even more poignant.
- The "Friendship Tax": Look at your closest friend’s bookshelf. If it’s not there, they’ve already lent it to someone else. This is the natural lifecycle of the book.
- Charity Shops: Interestingly, you rarely find this in second-hand shops. People tend to keep it, or it stays in the "perpetual loan" cycle mentioned above.
Actually, the audiobook is a totally different experience. Listening to her describe the MSN era or the nuances of a hangover feels like a long FaceTime call with your smartest, funniest friend. It’s less like consuming "content" and more like a therapy session that happens to involve a lot of jokes about Rod Stewart.
What the Book Gets Right About Growing Up
One of the most profound chapters—and the one people highlight the most—is when Dolly realizes that her friends are starting to get married and move into a different phase of life. There is a specific grief in that. It’s not that you aren't happy for them; it’s that the "unit" is changing.
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She writes about the transition from being a "we" with your girlfriends to becoming a "plus one." It’s a lonely transition. Most books about love focus on the finding of a partner as the finish line. Dolly argues that the finish line doesn't exist, and if it did, your friends would be the ones holding the tape for you at the end.
The Myth of the "Hot Mess"
There’s a misconception that this is just a book for "party girls." That’s a lazy take. While there is plenty of partying, the core of the narrative is about the struggle to find self-worth that isn't tied to external validation.
Alderton is incredibly honest about her struggles with body image and her desperate need to be "chosen" by men. She talks about the psychological toll of dating apps before they were even called dating apps. She chronicles the transition from being the girl who dances on tables to the woman who realizes that she’s using alcohol to mask a deep-seated anxiety. It’s vulnerable in a way that feels risky.
Honestly, it's the vulnerability that makes it sticky. You can't just read it and forget it. You read it and you see your own worst impulses reflected back at you. But instead of feeling judged, you feel seen. That’s a rare trick for a writer to pull off.
Addressing the Critics
Not everyone loves it. Some critics at the time of release felt it was "self-indulgent." But isn't every memoir self-indulgent? That’s literally the genre. The criticism often felt gendered—as if a young woman writing about her own life was somehow less valid than a man writing a 600-page biography of a politician.
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Others argue it’s "too British." Yes, there are references to specific UK shops and cultural touchstones that might feel alien if you’ve never spent a rainy Tuesday in Camden. But the emotions? The fear of being unloved? The joy of a shared takeaway pizza at 3 AM? Those are universal. They translate perfectly, whether you're in London or Lima.
How to Actually Apply Dolly’s Lessons
If you’ve managed to borrow Everything I Know About Love and you’re staring at the final pages, you might be wondering what to do with all that emotional residue. The book doesn't give you a 10-step plan for a perfect life. It gives you a perspective shift.
- Audit your friendships. Are you showing up for them, or are you just waiting for your turn to talk about your latest crush?
- Learn to be alone. One of Dolly’s biggest turning points is learning to enjoy her own company—eating alone in a restaurant, going to the cinema solo. It sounds small, but it's a superpower.
- Forgive your younger self. Stop cringing at the person you were three years ago. That person was doing their best with the tools they had.
- Write the "Love" list. At the end of the book, Dolly lists things she knows about love. It’s not all romantic. It’s about the smell of a new baby, the way a friend remembers how you take your tea, and the quiet comfort of a familiar routine.
The Final Verdict on Borrowing vs. Buying
Should you borrow Everything I Know About Love, or should you just buy it?
Buy it. Honestly.
Buy a copy, read it, highlight the parts that make you want to cry, and then—this is the important part—lend it to someone else. Write a note in the front cover. Tell them which page made you think of them.
The book is designed to be shared. It’s a baton in a relay race of emotional maturity. By the time you get it back, the cover should be peeling and there should be a coffee stain on page 112. That’s how you know it worked.
The real magic isn't in the prose itself, though the prose is excellent. The magic is in the realization that your "messy" life is actually just a normal life. You aren't failing at being an adult; you're just experiencing the friction of growth. Dolly Alderton just happened to be the one brave enough to put that friction into words.
Actionable Next Steps
- Check your local independent bookstore first. They usually keep this in stock near the "Modern Classics" or "Memoir" section.
- Listen to the "Sentimental Garbage" podcast. If you liked the vibe of the book, this podcast (hosted by Caroline O'Donoghue) often features Dolly and covers similar themes of "low-brow" culture being high-stakes for women.
- Host a "Book Exchange" dinner. If your friend group hasn't read this yet, buy three copies and pass them around. It’ll spark better conversations than any Netflix show.
- Write your own "Everything I Know About..." list. It’s a surprisingly grounding exercise. What do you know about work? About grief? About Sunday afternoons? Focus on the small, specific truths.