Summer at Tiffany

By Marjorie Hart

“Hart has a genuine gift for conveying the texture of midcentury Manhattan…. [She makes] the dilemmas of her own young life both compelling and contemporary.”

—USA Today

“[A] glorious once upon a time fairytale come true….I loved every moment!”
  —Adriana Trigiani, author of Very Valentine

A memoir acclaimed as “reminiscent of The Best of Everything and Breakfast at Tiffany’s” (BookPage), Summer at Tiffany by Marjorie Hart is the true story of two best friends experiencing the time of their lives in New York City during the summer of 1945. The Cleveland Plain Dealer raves, “Hart writes about that stylish summer with verve, recollecting with a touching purity a magical summer in Manhattan, seen through the eyes of two 21-year-olds, just as the end of World War II approached.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Oct 13, 2009
• ISBN: 9780061754982

Marjorie Hart

Marjorie Hart is the former chairman of the Fine Arts Department at the University of San Diego and a professional cellist. She lives in La Mesa, California.

Book preview

Chapter One

FROM THE top deck of the bus, Marty and I were mesmerized by Fifth Avenue as we watched glamorous stores spring up like pages out of Mademoiselle. Bergdorf Goodman. Bonwit Teller. Cartier. De Pinna. Saks Fifth Avenue. Peck & Peck. We knew all of the stores even if we had never been through any of their doors—or even seen a store bigger than Younkers in Des Moines!

When the Empire State Building loomed ahead, we were speechless. I felt like a princess on a Fourth of July float, looking at my kingdom, which in this case was a landscape of high-fashion show windows, screeching traffic, and the tallest building in the world.

We couldn’t stop to sightsee. We were looking for a job.

Marty was holding a Manhattan map in her lap, while I held on to my hat.

Get ready. She pointed. Thirty-eighth Street is coming up!

We barely made it down the narrow circular stairs before the bus took off again. In my eagerness to cross the street, I stepped into the path of a Checker Cab. A man pulled me back and Marty screamed. My heart lurched as I tried to catch my breath. The light changed from red to green, red to green, before I found the courage to step off the curb and cross the street.

I felt calmer as we entered Lord & Taylor. It was a historic moment. We could be working behind one of their glistening counters as early as tomorrow. In a trance, I followed the scent of Chanel No. 5 past the cosmetics counters and the racks of two-piece bathing suits, Hawaiian dresses, and turbans with sparkling rhinestone clips. By the time we reached the elevator, I had mentally spent my first paycheck.

Opening the door to the employment office, I stared in disbelief. Marty was wide-eyed. There, cramped into a vestibule with overflowing ashtrays, were over thirty girls waiting for applications, some crouched on the floor. Included in that group were a Powers model type in a sleeveless pink linen dress; a pert brunette teetering on four-inch white ankle-strap heels; and two elegant girls with white shantung jackets. Looking at us, they smiled, giggled, and laughed. My face flamed as we squeezed into the line.

We were garbed in black. Totally. Black dresses, shoes, and cartwheel hats. Our inspired outfit had been copied from a glossy ad in Vogue, but that sweltering day, we looked like characters out of a Tolstoy tragedy.

Marty and I gave each other The Look. With heads up, we peeled off our white gloves to fill out our applications, and smiled back at the girls. Little did they know the kind of pull we had.

The harried manager didn’t bother to look up when we handed our applications in.

Come back next fall, she said crisply.

Next fall? She’s dismissing us without reading our applications? She doesn’t know our connections? I was furious! We’d counted on this job. We needed it for the summer. Now.

Excuse me, I said. We have friends working here—my voice was so tight, I scarcely recognized the anger in it—and an important reference—

She shook her head, filing our applications without glancing at them. Or us.

Don’t worry, Marjorie, this isn’t the only big deal in town, Marty said on the way out.

Beads of sweat trickled down my face. We trudged in and out of a dozen stores, waiting in lines and filling out applications. When we reached Saks Fifth Avenue the management only shooed us away. I couldn’t believe it! What was this wild rumor that finding a job in Manhattan was easy?

IT HAD ALL started a month ago, when three of our sorority sisters had landed fabulous jobs at Lord & Taylor. Lord & Taylor! The day they received the letters, they shrieked and celebrated the news all over the Kappa house until our housemother put the kibosh on the wild conga line they had started.

Come along, Anita had urged every Kappa. Getting a summer job in Manhattan is a cinch!

The next thing we knew, every girl at the University of Iowa wanted a train ticket for the East Coast to find a high-fashion job.

We can get on a train for New York, too, Marty said in our dorm room.

"New York City?" She couldn’t be serious. Summer school was beginning in a few weeks and I was sure that her savings were as meager as my own.

You bet, she said, pitching our summer schedule in the wastebasket. All we have to do is collect Coke bottles—there’s tons around the campus. Enough for a couple train tickets. Gesturing with her cigarette, she added, Think of the fun we’ll have—Broadway shows . . . nightclubs . . . and those beaches!

That struck a chord. I’d never been east of the Mississippi River and had always wanted to see the ocean. Remembering the last stifling Iowa City summer that only a row of corn could love and the dim social life at Whetstone’s Drug Store—now that nearly every eligible man was either fighting in the Pacific or waiting to be shipped out—it wasn’t difficult to start collecting those empty Coke bottles. Leave it to Marty. Scooping up those bottles was fun, frenzied, and frantic. All we needed was that job.

NOW, STANDING OUTSIDE of Saks Fifth Avenue, Marty shrugged. I was scared. We climbed back on the next bus. The upper deck was crammed with servicemen, shoppers, and kids with ice cream cones dripping from the blazing June sun.

Two navy lieutenants tried to stir up a breeze with a newspaper while they debated the merits of President Truman. I fanned myself with my hat. A red-hot blister forced me to take off my shoe.

Marty was undaunted. Sitting close to the rail, she studied each block looking for the next strategy like some four-star general. The stores were becoming smaller, more exclusive, and more unlikely. Hattie Carnegie? Good heavens.

Suddenly, Marty jumped up. There’s Tiffany!

"Tiffany? The jewelry store?" I exclaimed.

Marty was halfway down the stairs of the bus before I could find my shoe. On the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifty-seventh Street, the sun illuminated a sleek new building, seven stories high with the elegant sign TIFFANY & CO. In the showcase window was a brilliant diamond necklace with matching ear clips mounted on black velvet.

"Marty!" What was she thinking?

She only smiled and checked the angle of her hat in the reflection of the window.

So? Marty laughed, and swept through Tiffany’s wide revolving door.

I followed.

Inside, it was cathedral-like: spacious, serene, and cool. It made me gasp. On the paneled main floor, marble-framed mirrors reflected the light from the windows on the opposite wall. Diamonds shimmered from glass counters as if they were alive, while solemn, dignified men watched over them like sentinels.

There we were, two long-limbed, blue-eyed blondes marching down Tiffany’s center aisle in our shiny black pumps. Only the click-clack of our shoes broke the silence. I treaded cautiously—feeling the scrutiny of the salesmen—while Marty clipped along like a golfer on a fairway. As we reached the end of the aisle, our steps slowed. Where was the employment office? The personnel office? To the right, a jowly man with bushy eyebrows in a cashier’s cage glanced at us with an amused smile.

I approached him, my face burning in shades of red.

Could you please direct us to the employment office? I asked, my voice shaking.

I’m sorry, miss, he said kindly. Tiffany does not have an employment office. Nodding to a man nearby, he added, Our superintendent is over there. Perhaps he could help you.

A tall, stoop-shouldered man came forward. May I help you, ladies?

We would like to apply for work, Marty said.

Work? he echoed, as if we were speaking in tongues.

"A summer position," I clarified.

Silence. An uncomfortable silence. I looked down, as if fascinated by the design of their parquet floor.

Finally, the superintendent motioned to a door. Please come this way.

We left the main floor for a narrow corridor, which took us to a small paneled office. He introduced us to his secretary, a fiftyish woman with tinted hair pulled back in a severe bun. She sat behind a desk, typing.

These young ladies are looking for summer work, he said to her. She looked up; her eyes widened. What kind of job are you looking for? he asked us.

We could sell jewelry, I said. What else?

His eyebrows arched and the secretary pursed her lips, suppressing a laugh.

At Tiffany, we only have salesmen on the floor, he said. What’s your work experience? Do you know shorthand?

Marty explained that we were students from the University of Iowa and her major was in business and economics. She said that she had worked in a defense plant for the summer, and had administrative experience (as president of the university’s Business Club) and (because her father was a lawyer) some legal experience.

When he looked at me, I hesitated. I was terrified I’d say something idiotic and look like a nitwit. I’d never been president of anything.

In a small voice, I answered, I’ve worked part-time at a campus dress shop. I’m a music major . . . and play the cello. As if, wow, the cello would make the difference.

The superintendent looked puzzled.

"And you girls have come all the way from Iowa?" he asked as he looked at the secretary and rolled his eyes.

We’re here for the sum-mer, Marty answered, enunciating every syllable, living on Man-hat-tan.

Near Columbia University, I added, so he’d know our classy address.

The secretary stared as if we were a couple of crazed runaways. The superintendent glanced at his watch.

"I’m afraid there are no openings at Tiffany—for girls," he said, putting all his emphasis on that last word.

I see, Marty said, meeting his gaze, while I looked for the door. But we have an important business reference for your president.

Marty—there are no openings!

"Our president? President Moore?" he asked, stepping back.

Yes. Marty repeated coolly. President Moore.

The secretary pulled off her glasses. The superintendent reached for the telephone. I swallowed hard, stunned.

OHMYGOSH. I CLAMPED my teeth; I felt nauseous. The bewildered superintendent had left, the secretary sent us furtive, frowning glances, and even Marty looked apprehensive, tracing a circle on the floor with the toe of her shoe.

Our hope was our reference, Mr. Carl Byoir. We had met him the day before.

My dad said to look him up, first, Marty had said. But we couldn’t find his address until we stepped back from the building and looked up to where his name was etched in stone across a tall building on Fortieth Street, near Madison Avenue: CARL BYOIR & ASSOC.

"Good heavens, Marty—who is he?" I said, my eyes never leaving those perfectly carved letters.

I have no idea, she said, staring at his name. My dad only told me he’d gone from rags to riches.

On the top floor, we were ushered into his sumptuous office with a view overlooking the city. A short, balding man, he had the warmest smile that we’d seen since we’d arrived in New York City.

I hear you girls are from Iowa U., he said. I’ve been expecting you. He shook our hands and motioned us to sit across from his enormous desk. University of Iowa is the greatest college in the world—don’t you forget it!

While Marty relayed the news about her father’s partner—a man called Stub Stewart whose nickname came from his days as a football player on our college team—I stared, amazed, at the wall behind his desk. It was filled with photographs of Mr. Byoir with President Roosevelt. Some were at a mansion with Fala, the president’s dog, and one beside a huge tiered birthday cake. I hoped Mr. Byoir would explain them to me, but he was in his element recalling his college days. He had been manager of the Hawkeye, our college yearbook, and he told us that it was its success that had paved his way to New York City. He asked where we were living. How did we like the city? Would we like to go nightclubbing? Would we!

So where are you girls looking for work? he asked, leaning back in his chair.

When Marty mentioned Lord & Taylor, he said, "Oh, that would be a good place—my wife loves that store. Though Tiffany is really her favorite. Then he winked. I’ve been working for Tiffany’s ever since I married her!"

Marty and I exchanged knowing glances. So that’s what he did.

Before we left, he said, My secretary will give you a card for a reference.

I was counting on that card, our ace in the hole.

WHEN THE SUPERINTENDENT reappeared, he ushered us to a special elevator. Not a word was spoken. He tightened his paisley tie, pulled his handkerchief from his breast pocket and unfolded and refolded it, cleared his throat, wiped his palms, replaced his handkerchief, and checked his tie again. Stage fright. I knew the signs. I vowed to keep my mouth shut and let Marty do the talking.

Reaching the top floor, the superintendent led us into an elegant lounge with velvet upholstered chairs and delicate French tables holding lavish accessories: a silver cigarette lighter, a cloisonné ashtray, and a letter opener mounted with gems. Along with an application, he handed us each a silver fountain pen.

When we finished, he checked our applications and turned to Marty.

Miss Garrett, please come with me.

Only Marty? We were being interviewed separately?

I panicked. My head was swimming and my hands began to feel clammy. Suppose I’d be asked things about Mr. Byoir that I didn’t know? Without Marty to do the explaining, I knew I’d be left stuttering and stammering. And if they asked for work experience, boy, was that dismal: straightening neckties at my father’s store, selling slips and girdles (oh no!) and bathing suits at Towner’s dress shop, and playing wedding gigs on the weekend. On second thought, they probably wouldn’t know what a gig was, or a cello. I knew darn well that mentioning the cello would evoke a baffled stare or an amused snicker. There wasn’t one impressive thing to talk about—if I could talk at all! What a pair we were: me with the squeaky voice, and the superintendent clearing his throat.

They were back. Marty smiled and rolled her eyes.

What did she mean?

Miss Jacobson, the superintendent said.

My legs trembled as I followed the nervous superintendent down the hall. We walked in single file, funereal style. Before he opened the door, I took three deep breaths, put on my gloves, and tilted my hat like Joan Crawford.

Standing at the far end of a table—the length of a bowling alley—were two distinguished-looking gentlemen. The superintendent introduced the taller one as President Moore and the younger, round-faced man as a Tiffany nephew. The superintendent sat next to me, halfway down that long polished table. He was uneasy. I was petrified. I couldn’t have been more scared if it was my Carnegie Hall debut.

President Moore gazed directly at me, holding my application.

Miss Jacobson, could you please tell us why you decided to find work here?

That was easy.

Marty—Martha Garrett—and I were looking for a summer job. I tried to sound as natural as possible, but my voice was quivering. When we saw your store—well, we jumped off the bus and came right in.

The younger

Reviews for Summer at Tiffany

[natalieriley · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Marjorie Jacobson spent a summer working as a page at Tiffany’s. 1945, Marjorie and her best friend move to New York from Iowa during a summer break from college to find jobs and experience the city. While the author shares funny stories adjusting to a new place and new job, there’s so much more significance to this one particular summer. Marjorie grows into adulthood learning how to manage her finances, dating, and making decisions about her college future. There’s a lot of interesting historical events Marjorie witnessed; the plane crash into the Empire State Building and the ending of WWII.

[reader1009-863136 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Adult nonfiction/memoir. As told by a charming, 82-year-old lady.

[nhlsecord · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Young women working at Tiffany's in New York the summer the war ended. Lovely story of their lives and work and the family back home.

[chrisweir-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fun book about the author's perfect summer. She leaves her little hometown in Iowa to go to work in NYC for the summer. She and a friend from college end up getting jobs at Tiffany and Co. It's actually a true story. This was the summer right at the end of WWII. It actually reads like it should be a movie set in that time period, which is not a detractor. She talks about bringing like 4 changes of clothes and living in a tiny one bedroom apt with her roommate. Her salary at Tiffany' is $20 a week. Stories include her trying to buy a dress that she thinks is marked down to $5 at Bergdorf's and it's actually $50. Or a socialite woman who buys plates for her goddaughter's wedding that are $100 a piece. She and her friend are the first female pages ever employed by Tiffany's. It really draws you in with her wide eyed mid-west naiveté and the totally different world of the very rich where she works.

[briandrewz · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An extremely enjoyable read. Marjorie Hart has written about what was to be THE summer of her life. She and her best friend Marty journeyed from Iowa to the New York City. Finding work as pages at Tiffany (the first girls to ever work on the showroom floor), Marjorie and Marty take us through a "virtual tour" of the esteemed company. From the celebrities and gangsters that walk through the front door, to the elevators and secret rooms within the building, we get it all. It's a very quick, light read, but one worth reading all the same.

[carolee888 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I read this for the Just For Fun Challenge which encourages reading one book that has been on the TBR shelf for a long time and without doing a review. I still rated this book though. While reading this book, I felt like the author was my friend!

[gingersnap000 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Summer at Tiffany is a memoir of a young college girl of Norwegian heritage who took the bold step to spend her summer break in New York City. Majorie and her best friend from college, Marty, decided to move to New York City for the summer from Iowa with not forethought but luck was on their side. The girls were able to find a furnished flat via connections and "fell into" a job at Tiffany's as the first girl pages employed in the flagship store.Although the summer of 1945 was my mother's era; the description of an era which occured during World War II was fascinating to me. I did recognized many of the names of celebrities of that era along with long gone landmarks. Having lunch at the Automat on my first visit to New York City was one of the trip's highlights. I loved reading about a time where two young naive girls could enjoy a summer of adventure in the city without too many incidents. Majorie's description of her family warmed my heart and conjured up my memories of a Norwegian Grandmother...show emotions not! The book is a fast read and entertaining.

[satyridae · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A gentle, sweet memoir about the summer of 1945 when Hart and her best friend became the first female floor employees at Tiffany in New York. So nostalgic and warm, full of beautiful girls, glamourous movie stars and doomed soldiers. Highly recommended.

[kebets_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Our December/January book club book.This is a World War II story about two naive University of Iowa girls and their decision to move to New York City for the summer. They were led to believe there were easy to find and lucrative jobs for dependable Iowans. Instead, they find loads of girls for every opening in all the posh stores.On a whim they decide to try Tiffany's. They are surprised to be hired as the first two girls on the sales floor. But, they aren't selling - they are pages earning $20/week. Hardly enough to pay for the rent of their two room flat, bus and subway fare and a little left for food. But, the adventure of living in the City makes the lack of money unimportant.They meet more than one famous person - from a gangster with Marjorie's last name to Marlene Dietrich. They are also in the midst of NYC when a plane hits the Empire State Building and in Times Square with 2 million other excited New Yorkers when the end of the war is announced.Marjorie discovers love, friendship and excitement. As well as a deep appreciation for her roots back in Iowa.This was a fun and fast read. Although it reminded me again that memoirs aren't my favorite. I'd rather read a novel based on this summer!I wish I had read this before our trip to NYC this summer. It would have been fun to find some of the places she mentioned. We did find New Yorkers to be every bit as friendly and supportive as Marjorie did! Maybe some things don't change.

[julie3billing · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

You should read this one! Not many non-fiction books get on my "you should read this book" recommendations, but I really enjoyed this one. An easy read about two college girls from Iowa who go to New York to work in the summer of 1945, and were hired as the first women to work on the sales floor at Tiffany. I enjoyed not only their impressions of the famous personalities of the day, but their simple misunderstandings about life in the big city. I always love WWII era books, especially those about those coping back home or immediately after the war, and this one was a lovely read.

[marliesd_4 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Completely charming! Loved it--all about two young Midwestern girls who work at Tiffany's the summer WWII ended. Nice, cheerful little book.

[pegswaney · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

true story of 2 college girls spending the summer in NYC- only job is floor girls at Tiffany's. They were the first. good

[booksandwine · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I greatly enjoyed this simple memoir of a summer spent working for a world-famous jewelry store, Tiffany. Summer at Tiffany by Marjorie Hart is a light read and will make you long for a simpler time of soda fountains and midshoremen. This book is definately a quaint gem and worth checking out. Just try to ignore the continually ohmygoshes.

[scoutlee_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

New York City is one my favorite cities. So when I first discovered Summer at Tiffany, I was curious to read about a young girl’s first time there in 1945. I also wanted to read this memoir because I normally do not read biographies or autobiographies.Summer at Tiffany is about Marjorie and Marty, two best friends and sorority sisters, who spend their summer in New York City. Both are from Iowa and decide to go to New York for the first time. Their first stop for employment was Lord & Taylor’s, but it appeared that was every other girl’s idea too. So, the two friends decide to try Tiffany’s. To their surprise, both girls are offered jobs.I absolutely loved this book. While reading, the words lovely and innocent kept coming to mind. This is how I would describe this book. Looking at my favorite city through Marjorie’s eyes was enlightening. Especially because the New York that I love is different than the New York of Marjorie’s day.I also found myself googling the places were the girls frequented. Reading Summer at Tiffany sparked an interest for the mid 1940s. I spent hours searching the internet to learn about the events that occurred along with New York’s history. I was quite surprised by this as history was my least favorite subject in school.The reader will instantly like Marjorie and Marty. When both girls meet the two midshipmen, you will wish for a happy ending for both girls. Reading Marjorie’s description about her dates with Jim was delightful, I couldn’t help but to smile. Overall, I enjoyed this memoir and highly recommend it.

[thelostentwife · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I don't know about you - but when I think memoir I think of some of the more depressing stories I've read; stories of abuse and abandonment. I don't know when Memoir became synonymous with those subjects in my head but thank goodness Marjorie Hart was there this week to show me how different memoirs can be. This book was one of the most pleasant, most nostalgic memoirs I've read. It almost felt like fiction in spots so fantastic were the names and the places being seen. Tiffany has always been a magical name to me, I mean, what girl doesn't love at least looking at sparkling diamonds or watching Audrey Hepburn on the screen as she emerges from a taxi in front of the famous store. I loved getting an "inside" look at what was like in the 40's during wartime for these girls who made a place for women working in the established store. Although there wasn't as much store talk as I had hoped there would be, I still wasn't disappointed. Marjorie has some amazing memories and brought goosebumps to my arms more than once as she described the scenes she was seeing in New York at the time of the Japanese surrender. Overall the book was a very light, perfect summer memoir to read and I highly recommend it if you are looking for that perfect story to read on the beach.

[thewindowseatreader · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Imagine the best phase of your life - a trip, a job, an opportunity of some sort, a time you reflect upon now with fond memories and a desire to be transported backward in time. Summer at Tiffany describes just this type of phase experienced by Marjorie and her best friend, Marty. Their summer adventure takes place in 1944, as the two college girls attending the University of Iowa decide to take a chance and move to New York City in search of jobs at a ritzy department store and a glimpse of the glamorous, fast-paced lifestyleThe Big Apple had to offer. Their hopes of finding work in a clothing store fizzle, but they catch a major break and discover an opportunity at Tiffany working as female pages (the first the store had ever employed). This book is a collection of Ms. Hart's memories from that lovely summer - what they learned, the people they met, the celebrities they encountered, and they ways in which their journey changed them.For me, this book was delightful to read. It was not something that I had to sit down and read in one sitting; rather, I enjoyed reading it a bit at a time, here and there. It did not captivate or wow, but it did provide me with simple enjoyment as I imagined the adventures of Marjorie and Marty.My first reaction to this memoir was to dismiss it as oversimplified and lacking depth, but then I had a moment of realization - Ms. Hart wrote this book in her eighties trying to capture the feelings and expressions of her twenty year old self. This would have been no easy task for her, and approaching the writing with this attitude really allowed me to enjoy the book and appreciate it for what it was: a short glance into the past, into a world that is no longer, into a beautiful summer adventure. It is rare even now, 2010, to hear of a smalltown guy or gal jetting off to the 'big city' to risk it all. With this in mind, I was able to admire Marjorie and Marty's courage and gumption even more.If you are looking for a simple, but delightful read I recommend Summer at Tiffany - maybe if you recently came off of a challenging book or are looking for a pleasant and light choice to wind down these dwindling summer days.

[mrs2starbucks · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

[3.5 stars:] Summer at Tiffany is a light, engaging read with all the depth of a Tiffany silver teaspoon. It's amazing how life, laughter and youth move on even in wartime, and if you want a blast from the past without any of the attendant horror, this is the right book for you! Everyone has a story to share, and while it could have been shared with less exclamation marks, the overall girlish, squealing pitch of the book hits the right note for breezy, charming summer entertainment.

[bremmd_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

To quote Marjorie, "Ohmygosh". I want someone to invent a time machine and a transmogrifier so I can go back to New York in 1945 as a leggy blond girl from Iowa and work for Tiffany. What a wonderful story that truly is a snapshot of a moment in history and in Marjorie Hart's life. This was so well written that I could really feel what it was like to be young and excited about everything happening to me and around me. I loved every bit of this book. From her descriptions of her first moments in New York to the events leading to her and her best friend Marty becoming the first ever girls Tiffany had every hired, from celebrity sitings to dates with handsome midshipman, everything was new and exciting. But there was also sorrow as the War neared it's end it seemed no one was immune to loss. This was a beautiful memoir that captured a time in a young woman's life and was so well told I couldn't put it down. And as a bonus there are some great photos as well as lovely sketches from a Tiffany brochure of the time. If that isn't enough the dust jacket is in glorious Tiffany blue.

[2chances · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I would describe this one as an airport book, light, sweet, easily digestible, and you can lose it in the cab and not feel sad.Marjorie Hart was 19 when she and her friend Marty decided to spend a summer in NYC working at a "glamorous store" like Saks Fifth Avenue. It was 1945 and they each had about $30 - plenty of money, right? Saks and Bonwit Teller rejected them, but Tiffany's offered to employ them as pages at near-starvation wages. They knew they would be on the Wheaties and celery diet, but you know - they were nineteen. And as Marjorie tells it, it was the best summer of her life, the kind of crazy, silly adventure only a 19-year-old can have.Marjorie's voice is that of her 19 year old self, even though she was in her eighties when she wrote this. Lots of "Ohmygosh!" and similar wartime expressions, and a very simple writing style. The book is not great literature, nor does it pretend to be; it's more like a friendly letter from an old college friend who isn't a brilliant writer, but has a REALLY COOL story to tell. A pleasant way to kill a few hours.

[larestout_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was a quick delightful read with a history lesson thrown in. I especially enjoyed the description of being in TImes Square when it was announced that WW II was over. That must have been quite an experience for two small town Iowa girls!

[cdianek · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A cute, quick read about two Iowa co-eds who decide to head for the bright lights of New York City for a summer adventure in 1945. Mistakenly told it would be a snap to get a job at Lord and Taylor, they found work instead at Tiffany, as apparently early female floor workers, albeit in more of courier roles. "Marge" tells the story of working at the legendary retailer, seeing the city, and dating military boys, all in the hot summer when World War II ended.This was a charming memoir of a much simpler time (Sorry, Mom, but times really do change). Though I can't say I know much about it, I cannot fathom young girls going from a relatively small town in the Midwest to the Manhattan of today and be able to live as simply, cheaply and safely as these girls did. It really was a delight to read of a time when they could. Quite enjoyable and recommended highly.

[debnance_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Summer at Tiffany is Marjorie Hart’s story of the greatest summer of her life, the summer of 1945, when she and a friend traveled to New York City and worked for twelve weeks at Tiffany. Marjorie’s story is full of the joy and wonder she felt while being in the big city.

[lmteske · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It was sweet, like a Disney fairy tale. This is not high literature, but it is a fun glimpse into the innocence of young women during World War II.

[brsquilt · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Excellent book.

[thescrappycat · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I LOVED this book. This is a sweet, simple memoir of two frisky young women in the summer of 1945, college girls summering in New York from Iowa. They get jobs at Tiffany, and the story is just bursting with vivid descriptions of New York, Tiffany itself, and the WWII era. Reading this book, you get a real feel for what it must have been like that sweltering summer, you will see the wonderful dresses, cartwheel hats, gloves, the sparkle of the jewels and assorted wonders of the store. You'll hear the big band music, and smell Chanel No. 5, you'll know exactly what it was like to wear leg-makeup. Wonderful, sweet story from a talented woman.

[sarahlouise_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I came across this book as I was checking Dewey Decimal numbers and decided the number given (department stores) didn't fit. I think it eventually went into Biography.This is a lovely story of a young woman who spent a college summer (the summer of 1945) in New York, working as one of the first 'girls' on the sales floor at Tiffany's. Marjorie and Marty (her roommate and best friend) came to NYC from Iowa. I loved this book. It was a lovely escape and yet the backdrop of WWII reminded you that life was not always easy.