Dora Saltzman

1. Betsey Johnson: Honor for a Life of Celebrating Youth | The New York Times | May 1999

  2. Marc Jacobs: A Man for all Seasons | Vogue | December 2011

  3. The Women of Alexander Wang | New York Magazine | February 2011

  4. Fantasyland: Jean Paul Gaultier's World of Inspiration | The New Yorker | September 2011

The first thing I ever learned about my boyfriend Matt’s grandmother was that she really liked books and had so many that she had an entire room full of bookcases. The second thing was that I would never see them because she never allowed non-family members in the house, no exceptions. And she avoids having family over: Matt sees her every few months, but they always meet at a restaurant or she makes the drive from Woodland Hills to his mom’s house in Huntington Beach. He hasn’t been to the house for five years. She says she just doesn’t like people around her things.

His grandmother’s house is in Woodland Hills and was built in the 1940s, and with the exception of some dated features, is fairly normal. Except for the room with all the bookcases. The ceilings are 15-feet tall and bookshelves run floor-to-ceiling on three out of four of the walls. Their design is simple and their white paint is wearing thin from use. Books cover every inch of them. There is not a single horror book, and the largest number on World War II topics.

She keeps it dark, without any lights on and with the blinds always pulled shut. It’s eerie and she’s the only person who isn’t uncomfortable being in there alone. In fact, that’s where she spends most of her time: reading in front of her bookcases, often times until midnight (although she moves into her bedroom when it gets dark because she refuses to turn the room’s lights on). With the exception of a 13” TV and home phone, she shuns technology: no cell phone, Internet, or computer. I wonder how she would feel about an e-Reader. I don’t think very positively. Books are her main form of entertainment at home. And when she’s not home, she’s usually volunteering at the library and buying books from the used book sales.

Although I’ll probably never see these bookshelves for myself (I don’t think relation by marriage counts as family allowed in the house), it’s nice to know that there are people who still think the bookshelf is alive and well. Because as writing this, I realized I don’t have a bookshelf in my apartment anymore.

When I got my first apartment in Irvine, I had a small black bookshelf that doubled as a TV stand (all this meant was that my dad drilled holes into the back of it for cords). I only brought a few of my favorite books (“Prozac Nation” by Elizabeth Wurtzel and “She’s Come Undone” by Wally Lamb, etc.) and my high school yearbooks. The rest of it ended up filled with my college books each quarter.

But soon I got roommates, and my roommates tended to be rough on my furniture. That and the fact that we moved around a lot meant that my bookshelf took a beating. So when I moved in with my boyfriend last year, we left it at Goodwill while they were closed when we were moving our things to the new apartment. To this day I still wonder if they threw it out or if someone somewhere is using my old bookcase. 

My dad has terrible obsessive-compulsive disorder. He doesn’t count how many times he turns door handles or wash his hands hundreds of times a day. He’s more of a neat freak. And because I have the pleasure of inheriting his DNA, both good and bad, I’m a bit of an anti-hoarder too. We both like to keep things as clutter-free as possible, and although I have no idea what my mom is hiding in her garage, she probably doesn’t either. As a result of all this, I have no history or recollection of what my first book was or what bedtime story I liked to be read (I suppose I could ask, but that will definitely result in a twenty-minute long story about something else from my childhood).

Because my dad is my best friend, it is not uncommon for me to associate most of my childhood memories with him (and by the end of the quarter everyone will probably get sick of me talking about him). But this is no exception. When I think back to an early experience with a book, I think of the times that my dad would let me read to him out loud. It didn’t matter the book, although we had our favorites (or favorite, but I’ll get to that), we would sit for hours: he would listen and ask questions, and I would read. Eventually, I decided I would start to do voices for each character, always making sure the voice matched their personality and background: a Southern accent for someone from Nashville, a British accent for someone from England, etc.

When I was in 4th grade, the infamous Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling came out. I had been reading to my dad for a couple of years now, and when my teacher decided to read the book to our class, I was skeptical. I was never a fan of fantasy books, but I ended up falling in love with it. The only problem was that the teacher did the voices terribly! So later that week my dad and I bought the book, I gradually learned to differentiate my British accents (not easy unless you’re from England), and we finished the book before my teacher did. We loved having each other to keep up with the story lines, not to mention another activity to do with one another.

(Image from blog.carriebastyr.com)

We made it through the first five books; the last ones were published while I was in college and between the distance, my homework load, and loss of interest, it hasn’t happened yet (I’ll admit that I started reading the sixth one on my own but it just wasn’t the same). But we do own the books, so who knows?

(Image from bis-ny.org)

Unfortunately in this day of new technology, print books are becoming obsolete and harder to buy. One of the things I love most is the way a book smells and feels in your hands, and I think there's nothing harder on the eyes than concentrating on a backlit screen. Books I have to buy for school (this quarter it was only those for Sociology) are pretty much the only things I read in print on a daily basis. Sadly I got rid of my large bookshelf when I moved into a new apartment last year, and the only shelves I have are now filled with my boyfriend's vinyl collection (ironic since once outdated means replaced another).  

Be it on my laptop or my iPhone (or often times both at the same time), electronics are really what I am constantly using to read. Although I don't have an iPad or eReader, I do occasionally use my iPhone's Kindle App to read short pieces. I will admit, however, that they are generally for school and mostly for Erika Hayasaki's classes.

From the time I wake up at around 9:30 AM, I don't feel right unless my phone is nearby (I don't feel good about this). One of the first things I do is read my text messages and UCI email (my only account) from my phone. I love shopping (especially on the Internet), and a couple of years ago I decided I wanted to be informed of online sales. I went a little mailing list crazy and joined every brand and designer I could think of.

...Bad idea.

Although I do certainly get informed of almost every online sale in existence, the downside is that the inbox of my only email address gets flooded every morning. I unsubscribed from a lot of them, but am still left with at least 30 a day.

 (Image from Refinery29.com)

After I check my sale emails (as well as those emails from friends, family, school, etc.), I continue on with a similar note. Either on my phone or my computer if I have time to get on, I read a few assorted style blogs to keep track of the latest trends and celebrity going-ons. These sites keep me in the loop on things like new colored denim lines for spring and some of the amazing dresses that Kourtney Kardashian is wearing during her pregnancy. Not exactly the most educational or dense of readings, but it's definitely one of my guilty pleasures and an area I plan to pursue after graduation.

(Image from SheKnows.com)

Another one of my guilty pleasures is Google searches. I think of it as sort of an art. I'm a very curious person and many times during the day I find myself wondering the answer to a random question that has come into my mind. My friends know this about me and love to challenge me, but I don't think I have ever failed to find an answer. I just love to learn interesting things about random junk.