My lovely friend Sandi, editor of Onya Magazine, also has a personal blog, a source of wonderful images and words and a lovely place to spend an afternoon.

In 2011, she resolved to read a book a week.

Her first book, Summer at Tiffany, was read and blogged and passed on to me to enjoy as much as she had.

Following is Sandi’s review of the book, first appearing on her blog, In The Thick Of It, January 2011.

I’ve always loved reading. And as a writer, reading is imperative. Reading as much as you can. Whenever you can. And a good mix of it too.

I strongly believe that if you want to write well, you need to read well. In fact, if you want to think well, you need to read well.

And so I plan to share, each week, the book that I have read, and a short review of what I thought, or felt, liked or didn’t like.

This week I read: Summer at Tiffany by Marjorie Hart.
 

It was fun. Joyful. Innocent. A romp of a memoir about a couple of college pals from Iowa that head to New York City in the 1940s and get a Summer job at Tiffany’s – at a time when Tiffany only employed men.

Hart, now in her 80s, reflects upon the best Summer of her life – with her best friend by her side, they navigate their way through a new city – the opportunities, the challenges, the boys, the stores bursting with things they want most – cosmetics, hats, gloves and designer dresses – and life, in a post-war country.

It’s the kind of story, all entirely true might I add, that makes you want to switch eras. Hart’s charming account of her Summer of 1945 is romantic – it presents the city, the people, the time, Tiffany – through peachy pink coloured glasses. And the reason I suspect she presented such an account is because it was accurate – the New York she describes is hopeful and engrossing, the people gentle and friendly, and the time – tough, but utterly glorious, and wholly full of promise.