From the ""old self-conscious you"" to the ""new self-confident you"" by way of cosmetic attentions to one's inner and, mostly, outer arrangements. ""Does your chest cave in. . . does your fanny stick out too far?"" The authors offer a couple of exercises, a page or so of calorie counts, and rules for eyebrow plucking. Then on to manners--how to address an archbishop or cabinet officer; how to shake hands (girls as well as boys, ""unless you want to go on curtsying until you're in highschool""); how to finesse a formal dinner. Sandwiched in between tips on how to analyze your correspondents' handwriting (this is good manners?) and a recipe for ginger ale party punch, are some prescriptions for dealing with new schools, working mothers, divorce, an alcoholic in the family. . . . No matter how well-intentioned, these seem insensitive last minute additions to this patent leather grab bag of once-a-year manners and self-help maxims. As for the grooming lessons, you'll get more personalized attention in any issue of Seventeen. Scatterbrained.