72 books like Avedon Fashion 1944-2000

The names Audrey Hepburn and Hubert de Givenchy are inextricably linked. Their union transformed the bond between two industries: fashion and film. This book wasn’t just a reference source for me; it has been a point of inspiration since it first arrived in my library many years ago.

I am a longstanding admirer of Givenchy and his timeless creations. His legacy is a testament to his dedication to quality construction, clean lines, and unique details. This book is an intimate look into Hubert’s life narrated in his own words and told through stunning photos showcasing his beautiful clothes and his ornately decorated homes. Each page makes it more evident why Audrey and Hubert weren’t just friends but fashion soulmates. 

When I was brainstorming the outline for my book, I knew from the outset that I wanted to explore Audrey’s noteworthy friendships, including the larger-than-life luminary Diana Vreeland. Diana transformed the way the general public saw fashion. During her time at Harper’s Bazaar and Vogue her influence was seen on every page, from the creative backdrops, to the imaginative themes, to her vibrant use of color.

This book by Eleanor Dwight beautifully captures the true essence of Vreeland. Dwight navigates Vreeland’s journey with glamorous photos that are grounded by her elegant narrative. It goes without saying that Diana was more than a footnote in Audrey’s life. She was a friend, an admirer, and a collaborator.  

Audrey filmed seven movies in Paris, three of which were directed by the multi-talented Stanley Donen. When they first worked on Funny Face, Audrey was twenty-seven, and Donen was thirty-two.

Their five-year age gap allowed for an ease between the two colleagues, which would manifest into a friendship spanning over 30 years. In fact, Audrey wrote a touching introduction to Dancing on the Ceiling. Silverman wonderfully chronicles Donen’s life in films during the golden age of Hollywood at a time when movie musicals were still box office hits. Best of all, the book covers all three of Audrey and Donen’s collaborations: Funny Face, Charade, and Two for the Road.  

In many ways, this book is a precursor to Audrey Hepburn in Paris. Both books were conceived by Audrey’s son, Luca Dotti. I used Audrey at Home as a guide while writing my book. I was moved by Luca’s personal anecdotes and the private photos from his family albums.

Although the two books differ in subject—one is about Audrey’s home life, and the other is about her fashionable career—one concept I borrowed was the exploration of the woman behind the actress. Luca’s book changed the field for Audrey biographies. By inviting us into the intimate setting of his mother’s kitchen, we are given access to a rarely-shown side of Audrey. This book tenderly examines the actress, the mother, the wife, and the friend. 

This book, a collaboration with photographer Richard Avedon, is experimental, exhilarating, and exasperating. I’ve always been drawn to it, which includes striking portraits by Avedon (Marilyn Monroe, Civil Rights workers, Allen Ginsberg) alongside Baldwin’s gnomic and haunting essay.

Panned by the New York Times in 1964, the book has been overlooked by scholars and fans of Baldwin’s work, which encouraged me to return to this troubling book. Published shortly after the Civil Rights Act of 1964, Nothing Personal offers up a portrait of the United States as complex and dangerous. Baldwin’s rage at the state of America is apparent, but I’m drawn to his writing about love, which he sees as key to the country’s future: 

“The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with one another,” Baldwin writes, “the sea engulfs us, and the light goes out.”

I love showbiz biographies full of the inside dope on glamorous, brilliant people, because I’ve always wanted to be one of those glamorous, brilliant people. 

Mike Nichols knew everyone important in the arts, ate at the most fabulous restaurants, traveled to the most luxurious locations, and owned several grand homes. And I am pleased to report that he was frequently anxious and depressed. 

I find it very reassuring to learn that someone who has everything I’ve ever dreamed of is no happier than I am. I know that sounds a little mean, but I never claimed to be perfect.

I loved that Julia Satow uncovers the history of lesser-known female department store professionals who hit the pinnacle of their careers in an era when few women were allowed to have executive careers following the Depression.

What delighted me the most were the details of tactics employed by the women to attract more consumers to the stores, such as selling bestselling novels that glamorized the career of an assistant buyer in the shop or the men’s club in which they could gawk at underwear models while shopping for lingerie for their wives. I was also surprised and amused by the stories of name artists such as Salvador Dali, who created window displays for the stores.

This one is literally about a wasted woman. It’s a fascinating non-fictional journey to be taken on by the author, who has led a fascinating, glittering New York life working for Conde Naste and other high-profile jobs. A life that she is consistently self-sabotaging through the abuse of drugs—particularly the ones prescribed to her by her father when she was a child. She is smart, sharp, interesting, interested in the world around her, and yet she continues to burn everything down time and time again.

This author is a former NYC firefighter and a terrific writer. This book is well written, with plenty of action in the firefighting world in New York City and plenty of heat for the slow-burn romance.

The heartfelt emotion this author writes is so realistic that she had me laughing and crying along with her characters. Now and then, I like to read a steamy romance, and this one more than delivers on that score. I’ll read anything this author writes.

I can still remember so much from this book. A great stat Hawes included was that in the year 1870, 90 percent of upper-class New Yorkers lived in townhouses or other types of single-family homes. By 1930, 90 percent lived in apartment buildings or “French flats,” as they were sometimes called. Basically, almost alone among American cities, New York chose to emulate Paris in its model of urbanism rather than London.

New York developers built and sold “French flats” that were large and ostentatious, like the Ansonia and the Dakota, which are still there today. These iconic apartment buildings were built along the streetcar and subway lines. Hawes was a writer for The New Yorker, so this is very readable.