I recently purchased two elegant books, one a lavishly illustrated biography of the genius designer
Tony Duquette by Wendy Goodman and Hutton Wilkinson, the other a photographic peek into the preppy world,
A Privileged Life by Susanna Salk. Whereas my heritage is squarely in the WASP-y culture of one book, I find that I am drawn to Duquette’s gloriously bohemian vision and the bold way he mixes texture and color.
But this post is not about that. Rather, I find myself compelled to write about my disappointment with some of the content of these books. As a copyeditor, I tend to be fussy about details in any circumstance, but especially in texts. So you can imagine how I squirmed in my chair while reading
A Privileged Life when I saw Luke Wilson—in full
Tenenbaum regalia with Gwyneth Paltrow—labeled as his brother Owen. And a few pages later, the society hostess Jayne Wrightsman was called “Jane.”
What really irked me was the chapter on WASP fashion, in which the author, who shares a good number of family images in this book to position herself as a WASP insider, made a true faux pas: she proclaimed Jack Rogers the WASP sandal of choice.
Now, had I not been a reader of
Mel’s savvy blog, I might have not given this brand a second thought. But last spring Mel’s blog took me to
Vivian’s blog, which complements her company, Stephen Bonanno sandals, a long-time family-owned business and originator of the authentic WASP-y sandal. As Vivian explains, Jack Rogers is a knock-off, and uses vinyl as well as leather. Lilly Pulitzer wore (and wears) Bonannos. I'll bet Jackie Kennedy Onassis wore Bonannos.
Why, oh why is Jack Rogers being touted by a supposed WASP-y insider? This book is beginning to lose its credibility with this reader.
* * *
In the Duquette book, the images are front and center, as they should be. But that doesn’t mean that editors can get sloppy with the prose. On p. 360, the last page of the last chapter, the sentence “When his ranch in Malibu burned down in 1993, . . .” appears at the beginning of two paragraphs in sequence. Methinks a copyeditor or proofreader should have brought equal care to the prose as to the images.
As a consumer, I’m disappointed that these art books, published by reputable houses (Abrams and Assouline), are lacking in editorial expertise. And I don’t want to pay $75 for typos. I’m a professor. I can read those for free.