A local etiquette book by Jordan Christy turns back the clock, and takes female spunk with it

Hey girlfriend! Pop quiz: When you run into a guy you like, do you (a) say "hey" with a little coy style, class and grace and let him take it from there if he's interested? Or do you (b) flood the poor coulda-been Mr. Right with "small talk, compliments and subtle marriage proposals" like the desperate "Stupid Girl" that you are? Careful, I think it's a trick question. Because in Nashvillian and Warner Bros. publicist Jordan Christy's world, there are still only two possible options for female behavior. But more importantly, there are only two kinds of women—good girls and bad girls, saints and whores, Hepburns and Hiltons. (Hint: You'll be able to spot them by their uniform—a knee-length dress or bare midriff.)

Proof that you can rewrite retrograde snag-a-man guide The Rules and He's Just Not That Into You a thousand different ways while simultaneously setting the course of women back a few decades, Hepburn in a Hilton World starts out with a promising premise: With the charming Audrey Hepburn as a guide, modern women can incorporate a little style and grace into their lives and still be successful. Sounds terrific, only the message is actually this: Being old-fashioned is good (no f-bombs, virgin bellini recipe included), "scaling the cocktail table, ripping your skirt, spilling that drink, and making a fool out of yourself singing an off-key version of 'American Pie' " is outrageously bad. Which leads me to only one question: Where do I find that brazen hussy and meet her for a drink? She sounds like a helluva good time.

Christy's obviously going for humor, but her broad strokes inadvertently come off like someone whose idea of today's woman is culled exclusively from MySpace, The O.C. and Us Weekly—after a mere eight pages, you'll want to scream, "Stop watching E!" Her supposed guide to style, class and grace is a tired, simplistic, pursed-lips view of female sexuality masquerading as a how-to—the kind that doesn't have room for a little barbed wire in the jewelry box or a little casual sex on the calendar. (Note to Christy: Some women enjoy casual dates and casual sex, and don't care if they actually lead to something more serious—and that doesn't make them whores! And they still get husbands! If they want them! But not all women do! And what about lesbians!?!?)

In fairness, there's a point here about how pop culture, movies and advertising still insist on clamoring over young, vapid, artificially enhanced women who seem to exist solely for male pleasure—and Christy succeeds in making it. She's right that we live in a culture that primarily celebrates celebrity train wrecks and vag-flashers over interesting, accomplished women. But again, her only source material seems to be sexist Hollywood, and that rarely reflects the lives of actual complex, contradictory women. Not to mention that her happy ending comes straight out of movies, too, with its tidy, traditional nuclear family, baby in arms. Haven't we seen enough Jennifer Aniston flicks?

In 2009, when women are surpassing men in college degrees and have a greater participation in politics than ever, the idea that a return to old-fashioned modesty by modern, intelligent women—mouths and legs firmly shut—will get us any closer to real equality or even happiness is cringe-inducing. Though Audrey Hepburn is a stunning if impossible-to-achieve icon from a quainter era, it was Katharine Hepburn who would come to represent the toughness and moxie it would take to truly fight and compete with men on their terms politically and economically, even creating some new terms along the way.

But after spending 200 patronizing pages with Christy on vocab lessons, high-school-level career advice (how to get fired: don't show up), tips on choosing friends and finding a man (never ever make the first move), makeup and wardrobe pointers and, bafflingly, a few recipes for really fatty Southern foods, it's clear her goal is not to advance an idea of women that's truly modern. She's advancing a return to a fictional ideal of femininity and lady etiquette from a long-gone Steel Magnolias era, one that puts women back on the sidelines, pampering and perfuming, deferring and complying. And to that ideal, we say: good riddance.

Email arts@nashvillescene.com.