D.V.. (Anglais) Broché – 19 avril 2011
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Description du produit
Revue de presse
“This title is the best possibility to “meet” the legendary icon of American fashion. It’s not a long book, which makes it the perfect beach read this summer. Your personal style will thank you!” (The Fashion List)
Présentation de l'éditeur
“An evening with D.V. is almost as marvelous as an evening with D.V. [herself]—same magic, same spontaneity and, above all, never a boring moment.”
D.V. is the mesmerizing autobiography of one of the 20th century’s greatest fashion icons, Diana Vreeland, the one-time fashion editor of Harper’s Bazaar and editor-in-chief of Vogue, whose incomparable style-sense, genius, and flair helped define the world of haute couture for fifty years. The incomparable D.V. proves herself a brilliant raconteur as she carries the reader along on her whirlwind life—from English palaces to the nightclubs of Paris in the 1930s to the heart of New York high society, hobnobbing with everyone who was anyone, from Queen Mary to Clark Gable to Coco Chanel.
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Each chapter of the book is a memoir on its own, each one very loosely structured, each one heavily studded with dropped names. You know at least some of the names that are dropped, in episodes ranging from finding back plasters for Jack Nicholson, to helping Charles Revson with his nail polish, to finding herself seated next to Josephine Baker (and her cheetah) in a Paris movie house. From that sampling alone you get a sense of the book. It is sort of like a series of evenings listening to a highly successful grandmother hold forth. The stories are fascinating, even as your conscious mind tells you that not all of them can be true. Vreeland is on to this fact, of course, and she drops the veil ever so slightly late in the book and much more fully on its last page. But by then you've either run screaming from the room, or you are so enchanted that you don't care about something as trivial as truth.
Fair warning to anyone looking for much about Vreeland's years at Vogue: she has little to say about them. There are a couple of stories, mainly about her making impossible demands that her staff seemingly found ways to fulfill. But of the magazine, she says flatly, "They fired me", and that in Mme. Vreeland's world seems to be that.
Like all good party guests, she knows when to make an exit, and the book is short...you will probably finish it in one or two readings. You have to like this sort of thing, but if you do, this is as good as it gets. Highly recommended.
I loved the descriptions of Mrs. V's personal style, from the cheapness of prewar couture, to the Chinese red nail lacquer, to her introduction of the thong sandal to America. I adored it all; the flamboyance, the insouciant commentaries on American hypocrisy, the rather sly way she comments on her dismissal from Vogue. What a personality!
I'm off to search for a lady's maid; some shoes whose soles are worthy of polishing, so I can cross my legs in confidence; and for some silk underclothes in greige. Oh, wait. You say that's not possible in this day and age? No doubt the divine Mrs. V. would find a suitable replacement, and with her trademark style. If only she was still around!
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