Melissa Walker’s debut teen novel, Violet on the Runway, is just as much a cliché commentary on the perils of adolescence as it is a trite observation of the topsy-turvy, cocaine powdered modeling world. Self-proclaimed ugly duckling Violet gets thrown into the limelight, receives some Prada boots with a side of arrogance, and gets lost in the jungle of the fashion industry.

Does this plotline sound familiar? Probably. It’s the same one that has been reused and repackaged in practically every piece of young adult literature for the past few years. Violet on the Runway by no means trailblazes; furthermore, it is most entertaining when looked at as a cheeky parody of what teen literature has become. As oh-so eloquently expressed by main character Violet, on the fifth page of the book, “It’s freaking depressing!”

Walker, in her feeble attempt to identify with the reader, ends up sounding condescending and patronizing. Within the first page, Walker loses touch with her target audience, characterizing two-dimensional Violet as “not exactly M-K Olsen.” First off, the novel literally says “M-K.” And, on a greater note, why would one even regard Mary-Kate Olsen as an ideal aspiration? Since when should a popular novel’s protagonist, a literary role model to teenagers nationwide, aspire to be a child star, most recently known for their stint in rehab?

Yet, the novel was not entirely wretched. Hidden within the stale pages were moments of genuine sincerity and entertainingly flippant dialogue. The supporting characters, while predictable, were fleshed out and realistic. The highlights of the novel took place in the irreverent banter. While not exactly razor-sharp, the dialogue is believable and engaging. Unlike Walker’s lead, Violet, who models at the soaring height of 6’1, Violet on the Runway falls up short.