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The inimitable fashion editor, arbiter, and curator recounts, in often-outrageous detail, the story of her luxurious and eventful life and profiles the celebrities she has known, from Chanel and Buffalo Bill to Clark Gable and Swifty Lazar
199 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1984
241 people are currently reading
5065 people want to read
About the author
Diana Vreeland
30 books71 followersDiana Vreeland was a noted columnist and editor in the field of fashion. She worked for the fashion magazines Harper's Bazaar and Vogue and the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Born as Diana Dalziel, Vreeland was the eldest daughter of American socialite mother Emily Key Hoffman and British father Frederick Young Dalziel. Hoffman was a descendant of George Washington's brother as well as a cousin of Francis Scott Key. She also was a distant cousin of Pauline de Rothschild. Vreeland had one sister, Alexandra.
Born as Diana Dalziel, Vreeland was the eldest daughter of American socialite mother Emily Key Hoffman and British father Frederick Young Dalziel. Hoffman was a descendant of George Washington's brother as well as a cousin of Francis Scott Key. She also was a distant cousin of Pauline de Rothschild. Vreeland had one sister, Alexandra.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 281 reviews
December 11, 2021
Книжка не о моде, а, скорее, иллюстрация к известному анекдоту «лучше быть богатым и здоровым, чем бедным и больным».
Слушала в начитке ещё одного известного главреда, Алены Долецкой.
Для начала сразу стало ясно, какой книжкой Алена Станиславовна вдохновлялась при написании своей собственной автобиографии. Ей, конечно, дополнительно повезло, что в детстве к ним домой приходил Юрий Никулин, а не коллекторы или там папины друзья-алкаши. Но мы сейчас не о ней.
Признаюсь, я в моде и модных персонажах не очень разбираюсь. Думала, прочитаю книжку и просвещусь, а то я как-то не очень была в теме, почему самый известный редактор «Воуг» (голосом АД) — это Анна Винтур, а книжку написала Диана Вриланд, причем под тем же титулом.
Однако! Что бы вы подумали? Чтобы узнать биографию Вриланд, мне пришлось залезть в чертову википедию! После краткой интерлюдии о том, как Вриланд клеила на розовую жопу Джека Николсона разогревающий пластырь, книга начинается (и заканчивается, простите за спойлер) вот так: «Чтобы у вас все было охуенно, надо родиться в Париже, зваться Дианой, иметь богатых родителей и гувернантку по имени Пинк».
Вриланд, как мы догадываемся, срубила в этом плане джек-пот.
Делюсь ценными знаниями, добытыми в википедии: Вриланд была главным редактором Вог до Анны Винтур. Она вообще родилась в 1903 году, родители ее дружили если не с Юрием Никулиным, то с Сергеем Дягилевым и Михаилом Фокиным и всякими там послами и артистократами по мелочи. В 18 лет Диана нормально так вышла замуж за красивого и богатого, и главной трагедией ее жизни (опять спойлер) она называет чудовищную ситуацию, когда в Париже в начале войны какой-то шустрик выпил весь бренди из ее хрустального дорожного графинчика и налил туда чаю. Там был… чай! — охает Долецкая. — Холодный. Чай!
Чеховская пауза.
Нет, ну вы подумайте, господи иисусе, я сама ненавижу холодный чай, а тут еще война и немцы. Рид, почему, когда началась война, ты хотел оставить жену на Капри? Я не мог увезти ее от ее сумок и туфель Шанель!
«Да, Рид как никто понимал истинную суть женщины».
Немного мимоходом мы узнаем, что Вриланд 23 года проработала на Харперс Базар, где ей платили по 18 тысяч долларов в год, а потом сжалились и накинули тысчонку. Не удивительно, что наша смышленая героиня ушла в Вог, где владельцы были не такими жадными.
Впрочем, моя любимая история в книге будет связана с главой медиакорпорации Hearst Уильямом Рэндолфом Херстом. Тот считал, что умные люди не умирают, поэтому George Bernard Shaw and I will live forever. Когда Шоу подвел приятеля и все-таки умер — а Херст уже и сам «плохо себя чувствовал», — во всех газетах, которые читал Херст, о смерти Шоу не сообщили, чтобы не расстраивать дедулю.
Вриланд, конечно, повторяет периодически, что, если ваша реальность бледновата, ее нужно придумывать, жаль только, что мне лично на мои воображаемые путешествия, наряды и знакомства вселенная никак не подсовывает мешки с деньгами, а ей самой вряд ли пришлось привирать слишком уж сильно.
Слушала в начитке ещё одного известного главреда, Алены Долецкой.
Для начала сразу стало ясно, какой книжкой Алена Станиславовна вдохновлялась при написании своей собственной автобиографии. Ей, конечно, дополнительно повезло, что в детстве к ним домой приходил Юрий Никулин, а не коллекторы или там папины друзья-алкаши. Но мы сейчас не о ней.
Признаюсь, я в моде и модных персонажах не очень разбираюсь. Думала, прочитаю книжку и просвещусь, а то я как-то не очень была в теме, почему самый известный редактор «Воуг» (голосом АД) — это Анна Винтур, а книжку написала Диана Вриланд, причем под тем же титулом.
Однако! Что бы вы подумали? Чтобы узнать биографию Вриланд, мне пришлось залезть в чертову википедию! После краткой интерлюдии о том, как Вриланд клеила на розовую жопу Джека Николсона разогревающий пластырь, книга начинается (и заканчивается, простите за спойлер) вот так: «Чтобы у вас все было охуенно, надо родиться в Париже, зваться Дианой, иметь богатых родителей и гувернантку по имени Пинк».
Вриланд, как мы догадываемся, срубила в этом плане джек-пот.
Делюсь ценными знаниями, добытыми в википедии: Вриланд была главным редактором Вог до Анны Винтур. Она вообще родилась в 1903 году, родители ее дружили если не с Юрием Никулиным, то с Сергеем Дягилевым и Михаилом Фокиным и всякими там послами и артистократами по мелочи. В 18 лет Диана нормально так вышла замуж за красивого и богатого, и главной трагедией ее жизни (опять спойлер) она называет чудовищную ситуацию, когда в Париже в начале войны какой-то шустрик выпил весь бренди из ее хрустального дорожного графинчика и налил туда чаю. Там был… чай! — охает Долецкая. — Холодный. Чай!
Чеховская пауза.
Нет, ну вы подумайте, господи иисусе, я сама ненавижу холодный чай, а тут еще война и немцы. Рид, почему, когда началась война, ты хотел оставить жену на Капри? Я не мог увезти ее от ее сумок и туфель Шанель!
«Да, Рид как никто понимал истинную суть женщины».
Немного мимоходом мы узнаем, что Вриланд 23 года проработала на Харперс Базар, где ей платили по 18 тысяч долларов в год, а потом сжалились и накинули тысчонку. Не удивительно, что наша смышленая героиня ушла в Вог, где владельцы были не такими жадными.
Впрочем, моя любимая история в книге будет связана с главой медиакорпорации Hearst Уильямом Рэндолфом Херстом. Тот считал, что умные люди не умирают, поэтому George Bernard Shaw and I will live forever. Когда Шоу подвел приятеля и все-таки умер — а Херст уже и сам «плохо себя чувствовал», — во всех газетах, которые читал Херст, о смерти Шоу не сообщили, чтобы не расстраивать дедулю.
Вриланд, конечно, повторяет периодически, что, если ваша реальность бледновата, ее нужно придумывать, жаль только, что мне лично на мои воображаемые путешествия, наряды и знакомства вселенная никак не подсовывает мешки с деньгами, а ей самой вряд ли пришлось привирать слишком уж сильно.
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February 17, 2024I'm not even sure why I read this. I'm also terrible at reviewing anything I read.
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February 13, 2010I really adored this book. It's not written. Instead, it's rather obvious that the editors, George Plimpton and Christopher Hemphill, just sat down with Mrs. Vreeland and let her talk, and then pretty much transcribed the conversation as it had happened. And, boy, can she talk! A mile a minute is a conservative estimate. You zip through this book because you find yourself reading it as quickly as it was said. And it's full of italics! Vreeland's excitement and enthusiasm for whatever it is she's talking about are evident on the page.
What a life she led. Raised in a rawther social family, in London and Paris and New York, she married banker Reed Vreeland at the age of nineteen, and he was clearly the love of her life. She knew everyone, from Josephine Baker to Jacqueline Onassis with the Windsors in between, practically invented red, was fashion editor at Harper's Bazaar for twenty-six years and editor-in-chief at Vogue for eight, and ended her career at the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute.
Remarks like "Unshined shoes are the end of civilization" and the famous "Pink is the navy blue of India" make Vreeland seem superficial. And, indeed, she herself said that she adored artifice. But she was also a very insightful, practical, intelligent and hard-working woman. She rightly says that the books one has read are the way you find out about a person. And although she says, "I stopped reading -- seriously reading -- years ago, she can talk about Tolstoy and kept The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon next to her bed.
If Chanel brought fashion kicking and screaming into the 20th-century, it was Vreeland (who adored and patronized Chanel) who made it part of the life of the woman-on-the-street.
What a life she led. Raised in a rawther social family, in London and Paris and New York, she married banker Reed Vreeland at the age of nineteen, and he was clearly the love of her life. She knew everyone, from Josephine Baker to Jacqueline Onassis with the Windsors in between, practically invented red, was fashion editor at Harper's Bazaar for twenty-six years and editor-in-chief at Vogue for eight, and ended her career at the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute.
Remarks like "Unshined shoes are the end of civilization" and the famous "Pink is the navy blue of India" make Vreeland seem superficial. And, indeed, she herself said that she adored artifice. But she was also a very insightful, practical, intelligent and hard-working woman. She rightly says that the books one has read are the way you find out about a person. And although she says, "I stopped reading -- seriously reading -- years ago, she can talk about Tolstoy and kept The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon next to her bed.
If Chanel brought fashion kicking and screaming into the 20th-century, it was Vreeland (who adored and patronized Chanel) who made it part of the life of the woman-on-the-street.
September 29, 2012
I'd been recommended this book before but only just now got around to reading it since I saw the trailer for "The Eye Has To Travel." I liked "The September Issue" and I planned on seeing this one since I actually like fashion documentaries.
I wanted to rate this book higher, but I just couldn't do it. I read an edition from 1984 and it seemed like in later editions there were some additions to the text. I can see that.
On to the book: It was a slow start on this one. There's no doubt that Diana Vreeland was one of those big, fashion personalities and that translates into the book. But that doesn't necessarily make for a good book. Interesting, but not good.
I wish the editors, TWO of them, would have taken a firmer hand with the text. Since she is a big personality, maybe they did and this is what they came up with anyway. With that being said, that's the main reason I didn't like the book - its overly conversational style. There needed to be some overarching perspective, more guidance to draw out the stories and keep them focused. Vreeland was born in 1909 or so and died in the late 1980's. That's a lot of the world to see and be involved in, let alone in the fashion industry.
Vreeland tends to ramble in the book. Sometimes her stories go on too long and they don't lead anywhere. Some times she talks like you know exactly who these people she's talking about are. Maybe she couldn't fathom that someone twenty or thirty years later would be interested in reading a book about her? Hell, I wanted to know more about her time at Harper's and Vogue, the Met even. She glosses over that!!! She spent most of her time talking about her early life as a pampered housewife with little to no formal education. I wanted to know how she made the transition from practically do nothing (she had lots of servants- Vreeland noted, I'm paraphrasing, to my disgust that she was prepared to work at Vogue because she knew how to run a house full of servants) to do almost everything kind of person. The Harper's, Vogue and Met stories, as meager as they are, don't come in until the last third of the book or less. Seriously!?!
Another problem I had with the story being told in her own words, was the way she exoticized people of color. I'm a POC and I have a problem with that. It happens way too much in fashion (just this week: Dolce and Gabbana/Victoria's Secret I'm looking at you!).
On the one had Vreeland was born in 1909, but the book came out in '84. It could have said something. Perhaps this has been addressed in later editions. I was ready to throw the book across the room when I read how she described one Italian man's outfit in detail but called him a "wop" like it was nothing. I was burning when she was fawning over Josephine Baker, like drooling over her physical description (it was kind of creepy). But then went on saying "there's a black in the room! There's a black in the room!" UGH! F&*!K you, Vreeland! Also she was known to have a huge collection of blackamoor pieces. She still seems to be ahead of the fashion curve since she was going to try to bring that back in the 80's and Dolce and Gabbana seems to think it's a good idea to use them now on the runway. Give 'em what they didn't know they wanted! Yeah....doesn't always work.
Despite Vreeland getting an F in race relations. She did have some gems, just in time for election season, too. "I know news when I see it! What are we talking about...pleasing the bourgeoisie of North Dakota? We're talking fashion!" I want "pleasing the bourgeoisie of North Dakota" to be used way more often! This is full line, "Actually, I can't stand novels-I don't care what happens to people on paper." That one needs to go into rotation too, "I don't care what happens to people on paper." Although I obviously love reading, unlike her.
I wanted to rate this book higher, but I just couldn't do it. I read an edition from 1984 and it seemed like in later editions there were some additions to the text. I can see that.
On to the book: It was a slow start on this one. There's no doubt that Diana Vreeland was one of those big, fashion personalities and that translates into the book. But that doesn't necessarily make for a good book. Interesting, but not good.
I wish the editors, TWO of them, would have taken a firmer hand with the text. Since she is a big personality, maybe they did and this is what they came up with anyway. With that being said, that's the main reason I didn't like the book - its overly conversational style. There needed to be some overarching perspective, more guidance to draw out the stories and keep them focused. Vreeland was born in 1909 or so and died in the late 1980's. That's a lot of the world to see and be involved in, let alone in the fashion industry.
Vreeland tends to ramble in the book. Sometimes her stories go on too long and they don't lead anywhere. Some times she talks like you know exactly who these people she's talking about are. Maybe she couldn't fathom that someone twenty or thirty years later would be interested in reading a book about her? Hell, I wanted to know more about her time at Harper's and Vogue, the Met even. She glosses over that!!! She spent most of her time talking about her early life as a pampered housewife with little to no formal education. I wanted to know how she made the transition from practically do nothing (she had lots of servants- Vreeland noted, I'm paraphrasing, to my disgust that she was prepared to work at Vogue because she knew how to run a house full of servants) to do almost everything kind of person. The Harper's, Vogue and Met stories, as meager as they are, don't come in until the last third of the book or less. Seriously!?!
Another problem I had with the story being told in her own words, was the way she exoticized people of color. I'm a POC and I have a problem with that. It happens way too much in fashion (just this week: Dolce and Gabbana/Victoria's Secret I'm looking at you!).
On the one had Vreeland was born in 1909, but the book came out in '84. It could have said something. Perhaps this has been addressed in later editions. I was ready to throw the book across the room when I read how she described one Italian man's outfit in detail but called him a "wop" like it was nothing. I was burning when she was fawning over Josephine Baker, like drooling over her physical description (it was kind of creepy). But then went on saying "there's a black in the room! There's a black in the room!" UGH! F&*!K you, Vreeland! Also she was known to have a huge collection of blackamoor pieces. She still seems to be ahead of the fashion curve since she was going to try to bring that back in the 80's and Dolce and Gabbana seems to think it's a good idea to use them now on the runway. Give 'em what they didn't know they wanted! Yeah....doesn't always work.
Despite Vreeland getting an F in race relations. She did have some gems, just in time for election season, too. "I know news when I see it! What are we talking about...pleasing the bourgeoisie of North Dakota? We're talking fashion!" I want "pleasing the bourgeoisie of North Dakota" to be used way more often! This is full line, "Actually, I can't stand novels-I don't care what happens to people on paper." That one needs to go into rotation too, "I don't care what happens to people on paper." Although I obviously love reading, unlike her.
August 24, 2009
I was so excited to read this autobiography since she was a legend in the fashion world and the personal inspiration behind the fashion company I'm currently working for. I stopped reading at about page 50 when it dawned on me that Diana Vreeland was the Paris Hilton of her time. She was a spoiled, pampered, uneducated woman (she never went to high school) who enjoyed shocking people, and had an overly high opinion of her own sparkle. She became famous and powerful purely on the basis of her money and family.
Actually, her style reminded me of the autobiography of Elsa Schiaparrelli in the rambling DAH-LING type stream of consciousness. The difference to me was that Schiap actually contributed something original and meaningful to the world of art and fashion. She had a business and felt a responsibility to work. Vreeland..not so much.
Actually, her style reminded me of the autobiography of Elsa Schiaparrelli in the rambling DAH-LING type stream of consciousness. The difference to me was that Schiap actually contributed something original and meaningful to the world of art and fashion. She had a business and felt a responsibility to work. Vreeland..not so much.
September 27, 2012
this was certainly...well, interesting.
diana vreeland was obviously a one-of-a-kind character, and possessed some whimsical brilliance. however, her privileges offered her an almost maddening sense of obliviousness to the world around her.
example? her comments on WWII were more about how she refuses to talk about politics and about how devastated she was that she couldn't visit paris for five years. there is no acknowledgement of the horrors of the time, nor the lives lost.
while i find the perspective fascinating (albeit often infuriating), i couldn't relate to her at all, nor did i aspire to be her. while she obviously was a lovable, clever person, i could not get past her lack of intellect, blatant racism, and complete and utter lack of awareness to the world around her.
it wasn't a terrible read, but it certainly was hard to get through.
diana vreeland was obviously a one-of-a-kind character, and possessed some whimsical brilliance. however, her privileges offered her an almost maddening sense of obliviousness to the world around her.
example? her comments on WWII were more about how she refuses to talk about politics and about how devastated she was that she couldn't visit paris for five years. there is no acknowledgement of the horrors of the time, nor the lives lost.
while i find the perspective fascinating (albeit often infuriating), i couldn't relate to her at all, nor did i aspire to be her. while she obviously was a lovable, clever person, i could not get past her lack of intellect, blatant racism, and complete and utter lack of awareness to the world around her.
it wasn't a terrible read, but it certainly was hard to get through.
September 29, 2017
A madcap romp through the whirly-gig mind of a madcap fashion diva. Superficial, artificial, and appallingly aristocratic she may be, but Vreeland's high camp persona unfolds on the page as pure comic gold.
December 13, 2012
Reads like a conversation. It is a conversation. I loved it- completely- and read it in about 2 days. People who say it is superficial don't get it. She lived a BEAUTIFUL life- was brilliant- and completely understood the art of living well.
July 20, 2015
superficial privileged boasting, causing the eyes to roll.
February 3, 2020
There is nothing conventional about Diana Vreeland, and her memoir is no exception. She writes this in the first person and a conversational style that wanders between topics. She was eccentric, chic, well-traveled, bohemian, and in some ways a woman before her time. If you are a fan of hers and are familiar with her enduring influence at Harper's Bazaar and Vogue, then her memoir and name-dropping will resonate. The book reads much like what you might expect if you were to sit down next to her at a cocktail party and listen to her prattle on while sipping more than a few glasses of champagne. If you are expecting a more traditional memoir that sequentially marches through early life, formative years, career, and life purpose, then you will be disappointed. If you want to step back in time and enjoy the vignettes of an iconic and eccentric woman who was at the center of fostering the publications that brought style into the average American woman's coffee table, then you are in for a treat. This book won't be everyone's cup of tea. I loved it.
December 19, 2021
"Главное - это сон!". Даже захотелось в Париж, хоть я его и не люблю
August 9, 2016
This book could not be more charmant! It reads as though Diana is speaking directly to you, and I suspect it was transcribed from conversations with a friend/relative (though I haven't looked it up to confirm yet). It is also written with her inflections, which makes it so easy to "hear" her voice.
Mrs. Vreeland was just so fabulous! Though I am sure many of her stories were embellished, it is for the sake of a good story and therefore completely allowable, as Diana would say. On one page she is chatting with (or gossiping about) some royals, on another she is making a comment to Audrey Hepburn or visiting with Coco Chanel. Her life was unbelievable, and though I don't share all of her points of view, she was so full of sass and pep that I just didn't care. She keeps it light, silly, and ridiculous. Fabulous.
Mrs. Vreeland was just so fabulous! Though I am sure many of her stories were embellished, it is for the sake of a good story and therefore completely allowable, as Diana would say. On one page she is chatting with (or gossiping about) some royals, on another she is making a comment to Audrey Hepburn or visiting with Coco Chanel. Her life was unbelievable, and though I don't share all of her points of view, she was so full of sass and pep that I just didn't care. She keeps it light, silly, and ridiculous. Fabulous.
December 17, 2021
"Первое, что нужно сделать, мои доргие, - это родиться в Париже..После всё происходит само собой". Если вы хотите слушать истории о жизни в роскоши, встречах с великими соверменниками, при этом вы готовы закрыть глаза на сложности главной героини, которые нам не кажутся такими уж сложностями (картофельный хлеб в Париже после войны, отсутсвие такси и хорошег уличного освещения в НЙ времен войны итд) - то можно послушать. К концу книги привыкаешь к стилю изложения - для меня немного рваный - и ок!
December 22, 2021
Ну что я могу сказать! Тоже хочу прожить жизнь так, чтобы самым опустошающим переживанием в моей жизни было случайно хлебнуть холодного чая вместо бренди. Но, как справедливо отметила сама Диана, прежде всего нужно родиться в Париже — и тут я уже промахнулась.
June 6, 2021
I haven't read anything so spectacularly bad in a long time! It is quite obviously transcribed from a conversation or a series of interviews, unbelievably poorly written, disorganised... And the content is not even particularly interesting. I didn't know much about Diana Vreeland before starting the book, and if I had I maybe wouldn't have read it. I came for the fashion and hate-read the book, just the way I might scroll down the blog of someone I despise or check the Instagram captions of the worst influencers around. There's very little about how Diana Vreeland forged a long and respected career in fashion and fashion writing; she was born in money, married money, and spent money. Opportunities followed.
I highlighted so many passages that made me cringe and that didn't age well. Despite "loathing nostalgia", Diana Vreeland has plenty to say about her admiration and love for King George and Queen Mary, and her wonderful childhood as "a product of the Empire". She moves from London to Paris, then the US - a humbling experience:
"My family moved from Long Island to a tiny little house on East Seventy-ninth Street, one door off Park Avenue. My sister has a floor with her nurse and I had a floor with my nurse"."
Imagine the tragedy of a house where you can only have one floor per child, and only two nannies. A "French maid" is also mentioned as well as a chauffeur (not to be confused with a driver - apparently drivers call you by your first name while a chauffeur would never dare. Diana never had a driver.)
Then they move West - she meets Buffalo Bill -, where they maintain a very frugal life ("My mother's horse, our two ponies... that's all I had West").
Her adult years are just her marriage to Reed Vreeland, and a series of dinners and parties with Cocteau, Andy Warhol, Coco Chanel, Wallis Simpson, Josephine Baker ("Now that was historic: we have a black in the house"). Her comments on the exoticism of black people - black women particularly - are particularly uncomfortable; similarly her admiration for Japan ("such refinement") feels superficial.
She goes to great lengths to explain her jewellry: "Have I ever showed you my little blackamoor heads from Cartier with their enameled turbans? (...) I'm told it's not in good taste to wear blackamoors anymore, but I think I'll revive them. Why not? I think those blacks I see around town today would get a kick out of it... knowing they're the most beautiful things alive".
You bet Diana!
Her wisdom includes the fact that "I believe women are naturally dependent on men" - adding that "The beauty of painting, of literature, of music, of love... this is what men have given the world, not women".
Lots of "fun facts" peppered throughout the book - the Duke of Westminster used to have someone iron his shoe laces every day (reminded me of the fact the Queen's dresser wears her shoes for her... so the Queen doesn't get blisters - that also means the Queen always gets second-hand shoes, which is odd to think about). Jackie Kennedy called her for decoration advice when moving to the White House. Coco Chanel really liked horseriding. Diana Vreeland used to shop in the same shops as Queen Mary. Etc.
Honestly a terrible book. Her life is interesting enough for a biography, but no one should have let the poor woman tell the tale herself.
I highlighted so many passages that made me cringe and that didn't age well. Despite "loathing nostalgia", Diana Vreeland has plenty to say about her admiration and love for King George and Queen Mary, and her wonderful childhood as "a product of the Empire". She moves from London to Paris, then the US - a humbling experience:
"My family moved from Long Island to a tiny little house on East Seventy-ninth Street, one door off Park Avenue. My sister has a floor with her nurse and I had a floor with my nurse"."
Imagine the tragedy of a house where you can only have one floor per child, and only two nannies. A "French maid" is also mentioned as well as a chauffeur (not to be confused with a driver - apparently drivers call you by your first name while a chauffeur would never dare. Diana never had a driver.)
Then they move West - she meets Buffalo Bill -, where they maintain a very frugal life ("My mother's horse, our two ponies... that's all I had West").
Her adult years are just her marriage to Reed Vreeland, and a series of dinners and parties with Cocteau, Andy Warhol, Coco Chanel, Wallis Simpson, Josephine Baker ("Now that was historic: we have a black in the house"). Her comments on the exoticism of black people - black women particularly - are particularly uncomfortable; similarly her admiration for Japan ("such refinement") feels superficial.
She goes to great lengths to explain her jewellry: "Have I ever showed you my little blackamoor heads from Cartier with their enameled turbans? (...) I'm told it's not in good taste to wear blackamoors anymore, but I think I'll revive them. Why not? I think those blacks I see around town today would get a kick out of it... knowing they're the most beautiful things alive".
You bet Diana!
Her wisdom includes the fact that "I believe women are naturally dependent on men" - adding that "The beauty of painting, of literature, of music, of love... this is what men have given the world, not women".
Lots of "fun facts" peppered throughout the book - the Duke of Westminster used to have someone iron his shoe laces every day (reminded me of the fact the Queen's dresser wears her shoes for her... so the Queen doesn't get blisters - that also means the Queen always gets second-hand shoes, which is odd to think about). Jackie Kennedy called her for decoration advice when moving to the White House. Coco Chanel really liked horseriding. Diana Vreeland used to shop in the same shops as Queen Mary. Etc.
Honestly a terrible book. Her life is interesting enough for a biography, but no one should have let the poor woman tell the tale herself.
April 13, 2023
Oh, Mrs. Vreeland, how your voice does pop! Having watched the doc "The Eye Has To Travel" a few times lately, the way Diana Vreeland talks is in my head and the sound of her voice really brought this book alive in a new way. There is a "voice" here, a character voice that is clear and sharp and nuanced and it should be studied by all those who want to write.
In her own way, Diana Vreeland was a performance artist and her performance was life itself. "Red" was her muse, and she can expound on the nuances and importance of colour. She was also a fabulist. Never one to be bothered by the absolute truth of a story, she understood that the value of a good story is the quality of performance.
"Why don't you..." was a DV catchphrase, from an early magazine column, full of gems such as "Why don't you ... wash your blonde child's hair in dead champagne as they do in France?" (For context, note this was in the 1930s, when many people did have buckets of old champagne cluttering up the house.)
Why don't you ... pick up this memoir, and prepare to be amazed!
In her own way, Diana Vreeland was a performance artist and her performance was life itself. "Red" was her muse, and she can expound on the nuances and importance of colour. She was also a fabulist. Never one to be bothered by the absolute truth of a story, she understood that the value of a good story is the quality of performance.
"Why don't you..." was a DV catchphrase, from an early magazine column, full of gems such as "Why don't you ... wash your blonde child's hair in dead champagne as they do in France?" (For context, note this was in the 1930s, when many people did have buckets of old champagne cluttering up the house.)
Why don't you ... pick up this memoir, and prepare to be amazed!
February 4, 2008
This book is the literary equivalent of cotton candy...sweet, pretty, completely lacking in substance, and it will make you sick if you ingest too much in one sitting. I find Vreeland to be a fascinating woman but I think she would fare better as the subject of a biography, as opposed to an autobiography. This book isn't really written--it appears to have been lifted from a conversation and transcribed. But it is difficult not to have great fondness for a book with lines like "Lettuce is divine, although I'm not sure it's really food" and "Asparagus should be sexy."
October 21, 2010
Diana Vreeland has such a wonderful voice and is so amusing. One of the cover blurbs says "D.V. is a champagne party" and that's completely true of my experience of reading it. It's very conversational in tone. Really, her turns of phrase are the reason to read this book. Sure, she may not be telling the utmost truth about her life - and she admits that - but even so she's clearly had an extraordinary one. I particularly loved chapter sixteen where she talks about her love of color.
June 26, 2020
Vreeland was an editor at both Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar, neither of which I’ve ever read. I’d also never heard of Vreeland but love memoirs so I picked this book up at a used bookstore. After the first several pages I thought - wow, this lady is a snob, and a weird one. But I stuck with the book and within a couple of chapters I was hooked - on the book and the author.
Her adventures are fascinating. Her humor is engrossing. Her style is adorable. Examples: She refuses to read Gone With the Wind in manuscript form because it “made the telephone directory look like a pocket handkerchief” and she preferred to sleep some at night. She glues on 3-inch fake eyelashes to get her depressed friend to talk. So many people come with style from Indiana, she says, though don’t ask for a list. She tells you lots of stories and then admits at the end some aren’t true - but “you believed me, didn’t you?”
She has chauffeurs and 3 fittings for a single nightgown and thinks lettuce is divine but isn’t sure it qualifies as a food and she wears enough perfume to save you from having to sniff her like a hound. She’s crazy and mad about pretty much everything and everyone. She has the soles of her shoes shined because if you lift your foot at dinner you need impeccable soles.
I think Vreeland and her book are simply divine and dawling, I highly recommend this book.
Her adventures are fascinating. Her humor is engrossing. Her style is adorable. Examples: She refuses to read Gone With the Wind in manuscript form because it “made the telephone directory look like a pocket handkerchief” and she preferred to sleep some at night. She glues on 3-inch fake eyelashes to get her depressed friend to talk. So many people come with style from Indiana, she says, though don’t ask for a list. She tells you lots of stories and then admits at the end some aren’t true - but “you believed me, didn’t you?”
She has chauffeurs and 3 fittings for a single nightgown and thinks lettuce is divine but isn’t sure it qualifies as a food and she wears enough perfume to save you from having to sniff her like a hound. She’s crazy and mad about pretty much everything and everyone. She has the soles of her shoes shined because if you lift your foot at dinner you need impeccable soles.
I think Vreeland and her book are simply divine and dawling, I highly recommend this book.
September 8, 2017
I feel very conflicted about this memoir. There were parts I found entertaining to read and parts that made me cringe. The greatness and the horribleness of it all thus average out to 3 stars.
First the good. Diana was born at the turn of the twentieth century and "wrote" (i.e. her conversations with the editors were transcribed) this memoir in the mid-eighties so she covered a lot of fascinating ground. I find pretty much any life that spans the twentieth century to be an interesting one in the sense that the person experienced so much profound change in society from youth to old age. The leap from Edwardian England to Reagan's America in the 80's is a large one. A life in that period becomes even more worth reading about when the person encounters so many notable figures in politics, in society & in the arts: dance, theater, art, fashion, literature. Vreeland led a charmed life in high society and has the stories to show for it.
Of course, the majority of this slim memoir consists of name dropping the likes of which you have rarely encountered, if at all. I consider myself fairly well versed in the era and society she writes of but I still had to keep my phone nearby while I was reading so I could google people and places. I wish the editors had actually done some work and created an index the reader could refer to every time Ms Vreeland tossed out a name or a French phrase or an obscure location. I ended up rather enjoying all my detours to google - I learned a lot of pointless but entertaining facts. Did you know, for instance, that the street the Vreeland lived on in London in the 20's and 30's(Hanover Terrace) recently had a house go on the market - in 2013 - for a mere 45 million dollars? The back yard garden is half an acre. In central London! Wow. That little factoid helped me understand just what kind of wealth she was a part of. Obviously all that jet setting around the world, and designer clothes and jewels and servants etc stem from great wealth, but she never explicitly mentions it.
It doesn't make me angry, reading about her privileged life, the way some reviewers here on Goodreads are. Not sure what they were expecting in the first place. She became famous for her family, her connections, her wealth, her friendships with notable people, her connections with high society etc. and that's what she wrote about. She lived in such a bubble; it was surreal at times to read about her life experiences.
The downside to the bubble she existed in was that throughout the book she threw out some real zingers. It was all very racist grandma at times. I think like 3 or 4 pages into the book, she is describing a room in her Hanover terrace mansion and mentions the yellow on the wall was like the yellow on a chinaman's face. WHOA..... WHAT? Then later on she rhapsodizes about some "blackamoor" jewelry she loved wearing in the 30's & 40's. Blackamoor is akin to describing a black person as a jigaboo or darky. EEEK. That segues into an uncomfortable few paragraphs all about how exotic and beautiful the black race is. She is not racist grandma in the sense that she is supporting the KKK and using the N word but racist grandma in the sense she is treating an entire race of people as a fetching trend or accessory. Sometimes she did just flat out say racist stuff like calling an Italian a wop. That was a jarring word to read in the middle of her cutesy story about her husband's bootlegger in the 1920's. I kept waiting for her to describe someone as being "a real jew" when acting stingy. She mentions how men are superior to women and that no woman has every contributed anything worthwhile in the arts. Um, ok. That is just so patently wrong it's absurd. Interesting to note that is how she felt, though. Several times she describes people as peasants and not in a humorous or joking way. I guess that is better than describing them as white trash?
I think this book appeals to a very narrow group of people. There are the fashion groupies who will love it just because it's from Diana Vreeland. There are people interested in Western high society of that period who will appreciate the stories she can tell about certain parties and hotels and restaurants. I guess I fall somewhat into that latter camp? The poor editing and the casual racism really weaken my enjoyment of the book, though.
First the good. Diana was born at the turn of the twentieth century and "wrote" (i.e. her conversations with the editors were transcribed) this memoir in the mid-eighties so she covered a lot of fascinating ground. I find pretty much any life that spans the twentieth century to be an interesting one in the sense that the person experienced so much profound change in society from youth to old age. The leap from Edwardian England to Reagan's America in the 80's is a large one. A life in that period becomes even more worth reading about when the person encounters so many notable figures in politics, in society & in the arts: dance, theater, art, fashion, literature. Vreeland led a charmed life in high society and has the stories to show for it.
Of course, the majority of this slim memoir consists of name dropping the likes of which you have rarely encountered, if at all. I consider myself fairly well versed in the era and society she writes of but I still had to keep my phone nearby while I was reading so I could google people and places. I wish the editors had actually done some work and created an index the reader could refer to every time Ms Vreeland tossed out a name or a French phrase or an obscure location. I ended up rather enjoying all my detours to google - I learned a lot of pointless but entertaining facts. Did you know, for instance, that the street the Vreeland lived on in London in the 20's and 30's(Hanover Terrace) recently had a house go on the market - in 2013 - for a mere 45 million dollars? The back yard garden is half an acre. In central London! Wow. That little factoid helped me understand just what kind of wealth she was a part of. Obviously all that jet setting around the world, and designer clothes and jewels and servants etc stem from great wealth, but she never explicitly mentions it.
It doesn't make me angry, reading about her privileged life, the way some reviewers here on Goodreads are. Not sure what they were expecting in the first place. She became famous for her family, her connections, her wealth, her friendships with notable people, her connections with high society etc. and that's what she wrote about. She lived in such a bubble; it was surreal at times to read about her life experiences.
The downside to the bubble she existed in was that throughout the book she threw out some real zingers. It was all very racist grandma at times. I think like 3 or 4 pages into the book, she is describing a room in her Hanover terrace mansion and mentions the yellow on the wall was like the yellow on a chinaman's face. WHOA..... WHAT? Then later on she rhapsodizes about some "blackamoor" jewelry she loved wearing in the 30's & 40's. Blackamoor is akin to describing a black person as a jigaboo or darky. EEEK. That segues into an uncomfortable few paragraphs all about how exotic and beautiful the black race is. She is not racist grandma in the sense that she is supporting the KKK and using the N word but racist grandma in the sense she is treating an entire race of people as a fetching trend or accessory. Sometimes she did just flat out say racist stuff like calling an Italian a wop. That was a jarring word to read in the middle of her cutesy story about her husband's bootlegger in the 1920's. I kept waiting for her to describe someone as being "a real jew" when acting stingy. She mentions how men are superior to women and that no woman has every contributed anything worthwhile in the arts. Um, ok. That is just so patently wrong it's absurd. Interesting to note that is how she felt, though. Several times she describes people as peasants and not in a humorous or joking way. I guess that is better than describing them as white trash?
I think this book appeals to a very narrow group of people. There are the fashion groupies who will love it just because it's from Diana Vreeland. There are people interested in Western high society of that period who will appreciate the stories she can tell about certain parties and hotels and restaurants. I guess I fall somewhat into that latter camp? The poor editing and the casual racism really weaken my enjoyment of the book, though.
May 31, 2014
Not really what I was expecting. It isn't a book so much as it is the transcription of interviews. I'd say the "editing" rather than "transcription" if it read like it had been well edited. It doesn't.
Vreeland rambles for 32 chapters and she has some interesting stories but mostly she gossips and indulges in a lot of self-adulation. For someone who held a key position in the fashion industry she sheds remarkably little light on the actual work. Unlike other reviewers, I refuse to react with cringing horror to her various racial and gender stereotyping that is perfectly in context with her time. I just can't seem to get out of bed for that kind of false indignation anymore. But the lack of real content is unforgivable.
Yes, she can be pithy, but if you let a recorder run for 400 hours you could probably get any dullard to say one or two clever things. It just wasn't enough to justify this book and all of the accolades afforded this book.
Once again, the fashion industry sucker punched me. But you know how it is, fool me once...
I have no one to blame but myself.
Vreeland rambles for 32 chapters and she has some interesting stories but mostly she gossips and indulges in a lot of self-adulation. For someone who held a key position in the fashion industry she sheds remarkably little light on the actual work. Unlike other reviewers, I refuse to react with cringing horror to her various racial and gender stereotyping that is perfectly in context with her time. I just can't seem to get out of bed for that kind of false indignation anymore. But the lack of real content is unforgivable.
Yes, she can be pithy, but if you let a recorder run for 400 hours you could probably get any dullard to say one or two clever things. It just wasn't enough to justify this book and all of the accolades afforded this book.
Once again, the fashion industry sucker punched me. But you know how it is, fool me once...
I have no one to blame but myself.
July 1, 2018
I've been meaning to read this ever since seeing it referenced in To Wong Fu Thanks for Everything Julie Newmar, which is one of my favorite movies ever. I found the first couple dozen pages rather obnoxious, until I adjusted my expectations and unbent enough to enjoy this piece of antiquated, frivolous nonsense. As the author reveals towards the end, many of her charming anecdotes never actually happened; this is a book that's more about capturing a mood and a tone of voice than it is relating historical events.
October 30, 2012
The editor of vogue during the 1950s and 1960s was influential and worldly. She doesn't come off that way in this rambling memoir. There's a lot of name dropping. It's also a bit frustrating that she lived during some great historical moments and has a very superficial grasp of her eras. It's like reading the memoir of Bertie Wooster or a character from Evelyn Waugh's Vile Bodies. Her old-fashioned ideas on women and race made for some uncomfortable reading.
May 8, 2015
There is absolutely not anything I could say about this book that would be enough. Sparkling, wildly charming, outlandish, bold, captivating... That any such human with such brains and passion and zest ever lived is remarkable. I could happily turn back to page one and read it again and again.
Five stars!
Five stars!
January 23, 2009
A must read for anyone hoping to develop any sense of style. I have to read it every few years jut to recharge. Diana Vreeland is living proof that one need not be pretty in order to be Glamourous.
Read
February 19, 2017Light and fun.
January 10, 2022
Роскошь, бахрома, кабуки, Конде Наст. Родиться в Париже – хорошо
March 20, 2024
Very glamorous- Diana was one of a kind! 4.5/5
May 25, 2023
So utterly charmed by this woman! So chic and so full of life
June 12, 2016
Here's how you read this book: you wait for an evening where you don't have much going on, put on a nice outfit, get a glass of cool champagne and read it in one sitting. It probably helps if you have some Cole Porter or something on the background. What I'm trying to say is, you need atmosphere.
Why would you need all that to read a book? Well D.V. is a kind of autobiography - but really it's EXACTLY like you're at a party with Diana Vreeland, and she's talking and talking about her life (and no one gets a single word in!). And you wouldn't want to be at a party with Diana Vreeland and not look your best.
Of course, because we're at a party, you have to keep the stories interesting. She's had quite the life, so she had plenty of them (about herself and about other people), but she also made up some and embellished others, as one does when you want to captivate the audience. And it's not polite to talk about personal tragedies or sad events in general, or you'd bring down the mood of the guests.
Well, Diana was a force of nature, a true original, and of course it's fascinating to hear what she has to say - everything about her is over the top. But it does get a bit tiresome to be in a one-sided conversation all the time, and while the shallow and sparkly kind of talk does brilliantly at a party, it can make a book feel a little flat after a while, because you know you aren't getting beneath the surface of the story.
In any case, I would recommend it for people who are interested in fashion or society - Diana made more of an impact on your life than you probably know. Perhaps before picking this up, if you aren't the sort of person who knows exactly who she was, and who can name the main society women of the XX century, you might want to watch the documentary D.V. and read the book The Power of Style (Tapert & Edkins).
If you are doing the Kitty Pong Reading Challenge, D.V. is part of it, but you have to follow the reading order, and The Power of Style comes before it, exactly because it explains who a lot of the people who are mentioned here are (with gorgeous photographs to boot).
Why would you need all that to read a book? Well D.V. is a kind of autobiography - but really it's EXACTLY like you're at a party with Diana Vreeland, and she's talking and talking about her life (and no one gets a single word in!). And you wouldn't want to be at a party with Diana Vreeland and not look your best.
Of course, because we're at a party, you have to keep the stories interesting. She's had quite the life, so she had plenty of them (about herself and about other people), but she also made up some and embellished others, as one does when you want to captivate the audience. And it's not polite to talk about personal tragedies or sad events in general, or you'd bring down the mood of the guests.
Well, Diana was a force of nature, a true original, and of course it's fascinating to hear what she has to say - everything about her is over the top. But it does get a bit tiresome to be in a one-sided conversation all the time, and while the shallow and sparkly kind of talk does brilliantly at a party, it can make a book feel a little flat after a while, because you know you aren't getting beneath the surface of the story.
In any case, I would recommend it for people who are interested in fashion or society - Diana made more of an impact on your life than you probably know. Perhaps before picking this up, if you aren't the sort of person who knows exactly who she was, and who can name the main society women of the XX century, you might want to watch the documentary D.V. and read the book The Power of Style (Tapert & Edkins).
If you are doing the Kitty Pong Reading Challenge, D.V. is part of it, but you have to follow the reading order, and The Power of Style comes before it, exactly because it explains who a lot of the people who are mentioned here are (with gorgeous photographs to boot).
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