E-Book Overview
For more than half a century, the red leather diary languished inside a steamer trunk. Rescued from a Dumpster on Manhattan's Upper West Side, it found its way to Lily Koppel, a young writer, who opened its tarnished brass lock and journeyed into an enthralling past. The diary painted a breathtaking portrait of a bygone New York—of glamorous nights at El Morocco and elegant teas at Schrafft's during the 1920s and '30s—and of the headstrong, endearing teenager who filled its pages with her hopes, heartaches, and vivid recollections. Intrigued, Koppel followed her only clue, a frontispiece inscription, to its now ninety-year-old owner, Florence Wolfson, and was enchanted as Florence, reunited with her diary, rediscovered a lost younger self burning with artistic fervor. Joining intimate interviews with original diary entries, The Red Leather Diary re-creates the romance and promise of a remarkable era and brings to life the true story of a daring, precocious young dreamer.
E-Book Content
THE R E D L E AT H E R DIARY Reclaiming a Life Through the Pages of a Lost J our nal
Lily Koppel
For Florence
C O N T E N TS
Foreword
vii
c hapter 1 T H E D IS COV ERY
1
c hapter 2 T H E D IARY
23
c hapter 3 MO D ER N MER CU RY
41
c hapter 4 A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG WOMAN
57
c hapter 5 T H E LAV END ER R EM I NGTON
73
c hapter 6 T H E AMER IC AN DR EA M
85
c hapter 7 T H E SNAKESKI N COAT
95
c hapter 8 EVA LE GALLI EN N E
10 9
c hapter 9 MY F IRST LOV E A F FA IR
129
chapter 10 S PR I NG L A KE
151
chapter 11 P EAR L
165
chapter 12 M
185
chapter 13 EV E LY N
203
chapter 14 T H E C IR C U S
221
chapter 15 T H E SA LO N O F F LOR ENC E WO L FS O N
23 3
chapter 16 T H E ITA LIAN COU NT
249
chapter 17 PR I VAT E EY E
277
chapter 18 S P EA K , M EMORY
295
Acknowledgments
321
About the Author Credits Cover Copyright About the Publisher
As a teenager, Florence Wolfson kept the diary from 1929 to 1934. Rescued in 2003, the battered volume was reunited with its author in 2006. Ninety-year-old Florence had forgotten about the diary until Lily Koppel called with the news of its discovery. “Am quite a busy young lady,” Florence read from an entry written when she was fifteen. (Photo: Angel Franco/New York Times.)
FOR EWOR D
A
t ninety, having survived a car crash and E. coli, I was living what can only be called a bland life. Mobility was low—no golf, no tennis, no long walks—but curiosity about people and politics was high. And there were such activities as practicing scales on the piano, playing bridge, reading, and agonizing with friends over America’s current quagmire. Not too bad a life for a nonagenarian. What was missing were expectations. Everything was going to be the same until the final downhill slide. My beloved husband, Nat, was already on that slide. What was there to expect? What, indeed! In my most cloud-nine dreams I could never have imagined what awaited me. I was sitting on my patio in Florida one glorious April afternoon when the phone rang. An unknown voice greeted me when I answered. “Hello, my name is Lily Koppel. Are you by any chance Florence Wolfson— now Howitt?” I thought, Do I want to admit that I am? Was this going to be some marketing nuisance I regretted ever saying hello to? Well, I was a little curious, so I owned up to being me. Said Lily, “I have some old things belonging to you that I picked up at 98 Riverside Drive, and I thought you might want them
g vi i g
back.” “What t