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But the true bard of bijou will always remain Truman Capote, who begat Holly Golightly (now that was a name) and her unorthodox notions of a morning repast.
The 1961 movie version of Breakfast at Tiffany's was a seminal part of my childhood too. Small wonder that as a married man, I have succumbed to the lure of shopping at Tiffany. I know the manly power that comes with presenting a birthday gift encased in that trademark robin's-egg-blue Tiffany box. The jewelry itself is almost beside the point; the symbolism is all in the blue box that proclaims, "I shop with the wealthy. I can afford to pay retail."
What trumpery. The issue is not the aesthetic merit of Tiffany jewelry but my parvenu pretensions in giving it. I was confronted with my folly a few years ago, while interviewing a marketing guru. "When you make a large purchase," he theorized, "there is a simple formula everyone follows -- risk reduction." His prime example, reading me perfectly, was the little blue Tiffany box, which he called "an expensive sign of riskless excellence."
At the end of our conversation, this veteran adman offered me a few words of friendly advice. "Forget Tiffany," he said. "Buy your wife her jewelry on 47th Street." He was referring to the world-famous diamond district, which is the epicenter of the wholesale jewelry trade. Now each year, on the eve of my wedding anniversary, I shop amid the tiny booths of 47th Street. I will admit that the whole experience still fills me with apprehension. Each time I contemplate a purchase, I can imagine the off-price jeweler later boasting, "You won't believe what I just sold to that bald guy with glasses."
How easy to flee back to Tiffany, that bastion of riskless excellence. But bravely I hold my ground on 47th Street, like a World War I doughboy dug in on the Marne, because I have finally absorbed an enduring life lesson: children play with the box; adults care about what's inside. So to Tiffany Ariana Trump, I wish a childhood filled with blue boxes with her first name on them. And if in later life she feels compelled to live up to her first name, may she skip the diamonds and instead open a homey little restaurant. Anyone for Breakfast at Tiffany's?