I read this book along with my all-female bookclub recently. Out of 6 of us, 6 of us thought it was weak. Poorly written, repetitive, and lacking much insight. There are a few throwaway funny lines, but after a (relatively) stronger start, the book veers into a mish-mash of personal anecdotes, impulsive reflections and ranting. Moran's life is not really sufficiently interesting to merit a published autobiography, and her insight into feminism is not particularly well thought out - lots of inconsistencies and fairly obvious observations. As part of the white, middle-class, Establishment (for despite her desire to flourish her working class credentials at every opportunity, that is what one becomes over a period of 20 years working for The Times), this book doesn't really speak to or for women from other classes and cultures.
All in all I was very disappointed, having read all the Amazon 4 and 5 star reviews and the praise on the cover - but then, looking closely at the names on the book, many of the comments are attributed to Moran's mates (e.g. Ross). And clearly, with all respect to the people who helpfully review their reads on Amazon, you wouldn't necessarily believe everything the average woman and man on the street told you.