The pages take us on a chronological journey through her career from 1936 to 1962. As we move along we see the evolution of fashion within the context of the world it inhabited. We see Vreeland’s brilliance, her comprehension of the culture of the pre- and post-war years and the radical societal changes culminating in the Pop 60s.
The city comes alive when the weather turns sparkly crisp. With the sun high and bright, a shimmery light makes everything glitter with an almost palpable excitement. It’s impossible to explain—it’s in the air, it’s electric, it’s irresistible.
As Ernest Hemingway famously said: “Though I often looked for one, I finally had to admit that there could be no cure for Paris.” In my opinion, Paris is the cure for just about everything, and that includes Christmas ennui.
"Snacks in the afternoon are for children," one of my French friends proclaimed. "Not for adults." (My subjects are between the ages of 40 and 70.)
My informal, nonscientific sampling of what Frenchwomen from 40 to 80 do to pick themselves up, brush themselves off, and start all over again and again and again.
We laugh together, commiserate together, share secrets and gossip. And we're always ready to pop open a bottle of Champagne whenever a circumstance—good or bad—calls for some bubbles.
Why do French women d’un certain age tend to look better than the rest of us? For clues, I turned to some friends and acquaintances I’ve known for 25 years.
What we sometimes forget is that beauty, style, sensuality, generosity, wit, and charm have no expiration dates. We must learn to believe this and act accordingly.
French men do not like to be told a specific date on which they are required, by convention, to be romantic—to buy a gift, extend an invitation, present a bouquet, or find a box of chocolates. Non, non, et non.