As always, the Maestro Manolo Blahnik delights and amuses.

And, just in time for the Christmas, he has produced (with Camilla Morton) the seasonally appropriate fantasy picture book…Manolo Blahnik and the Tale of the Elves and the Shoemaker

Ayyyy! He does not know who is Suri Cruise AND he has the new book. That is not one, but two reasons to love the maestro!

Thus, here are four books published in the past year that are worth giving to the people about whom you care.

1.

The duchess of smart Mediterranean cooking books, Claudia Roden, is back with this worthy entry, The Food of Spain.

2.

It is no secret that the Manolo is intensely fond of the comic novel, and this book about the pair of sibling hired killers, The Sisters Brothers, is the best comic novel of the past year.

3.

For the gardening gnome in your life, what better gift than The Founding Gardeners: How the Revolutionary Generation Created an American Eden, where they were learn that Thomas Jefferson proclaimed the flowering acacia to be “the most delicious flowering shrub in the world.” (And who knew those things were even edible!)

The Manolo loves this comprehensive book, FASHION: 150 Years of Couturiers, Designers, Labels by the Charlotte Seeling. It is encyclopedic without being dull and dry, and has pretty pictures by the score. This would be the perfect thing for the young person who has the deep interest in the fashion, but little knowledge of its history.

Happily, today is the Cyber Monday, when the machines do the shopping for us!

Or, perhaps not.

Sadly, until the scientific panjandrums perfect the robotic you, you will still have to do your own holiday shopping, although, thanks to the ancient and hallowed traditions of the Cyber Monday, you can do it on company time!

Allow the Manolo to suggest a few things that might make your life better:

For the hunky man in your life…

The Victorinox Mahale Zip Cardigan available in the three colors (charcoal, black, and navy) is the sort of practical cotton sweater that even the most manly of man would be happy to don.

For the country lady…

There is something about this Eugenia Kim asymmetrical cloche. that makes the Manolo very happy. Perhaps it is because the Manolo has recently been thinking how jolly it would be to visit the year 1927.

For anyone else who wishes to visit the year 1927…

The Manolo just purchased The Best of Wodehouse for himself. He did not technically need it, as he owns several other Wodehouse anthologies and individual volumes, but the Manolo was traveling, and the vicissitudes of that overwhelmed the Manolo’s sensitive constitution.

Hence…Wodehouse, specifically the single funniest work in the English language, Uncle Fred in the Springtime. The Manolo asks you, what better gift to give the person of delicate and antique sensibilities?

For everyone who does not wish to live in 1927….

Paper is dead, long live the book!

Or, at the least, long live the The Kindle DX the e-reader of choice for the Manolo because it has the screen that is 50% larger than the regular Kindle, meaning the Manolo can enlarge the font to maximum size, thus allowing him to pretend that he does not need the reading glasses.

What else would the Manolo be reading this week but We Had It So Good, the smashing new novel from his writerly friend, the Linda Grant?

Although the Manolo read this book the few months ago, he has returned to it this week, as it has finally been published in the United States.

We Had it So Good is nothing less than the biography of the whole generation of middle class peoples, telling the story of the Baby Boomers through the eyes of the Californian who settles in London and ages through the past forty years of tumult.

And yet, what the Manolo likes the best is that, even though the book is ambitious, it never forgets that it is about interesting individuals with individual and particular experiences. It is the entertaining story well told, and because of this it would be the good book for the intelligent book club, something that gives you much to consider and discuss, even as the story pulls you along.

So, you must read the We Had It So Good, it both very smart and very enjoyable.

The first shoes I remember wearing were Buster Browns. Every fall my mom would buy a brown pair for my brother, a red pair for my sister, and a blue pair for me. They looked, more or less, like this:

(It was the early 70s. Toddler-aged boys could wear this kind of thing their fathers worrying about some bizarre danger to their toddler-aged machismo. Darth Maul sneakers hadn’t been invented yet. Darth Maul hadn’t been invented yet. STAR WARS hadn’t been invented yet. I digress.)

For very special occasions, like church and birthday parties, my sister and I had patent leather mary-janes, like these.

My Special Shoes

They had soles so slick that Mom had to put strips of electrical tape on the bottom to keep us from wiping out on our way into the Sunday school room. To keep them shiny and prevent them from cracking, we rubbed them with a thin coat of Vaseline every now and again.

You’ll note that the striking thing about these shoes is their complete and utter tediousness. I suppose they’re classically good-looking, but they did nothing to set my poetic little heart on fire with a deep and abiding passion for the cobbler’s art.

No. For that awakening it was necessary, as it always has been, for me to turn to the revelations contained in a good book.

The book, in this case, was Louisa May Alcott’s An Old Fashioned Girl. (I bet at least one of you is already nodding and smiling. I can’t be the only one.) And the scene is this one:

“There’s one thing you must have, and that is, bronze boots,” said Fan, impressively.

“Why must I, when I’ve got enough without?”

“Because it’s the fashion to have them, and you can’t be finished off properly without. I’m going to get a pair, and so must you.”

“Don’t they cost a great deal?”

“Eight or nine dollars, I believe. I have mine charged; but it don’t matter if you haven’t got the money. I can lend you some.”

“I’ve got ten dollars to do what I like with; but it’s meant to get some presents for the children.” And Polly took out her purse in an undecided way.

“You can make presents easy enough. Grandma knows all sorts of nice contrivances. They’ll do just as well; and then you can get your boots.”

“Well; I’ll look at them,” said Polly, following Fanny into the store, feeling rather rich and important to be shopping in this elegant manner.

“Aren’t they lovely? Your foot is perfectly divine in that boot, Polly. Get them for my party; you’ll dance like a fairy,” whispered Fan.

Polly surveyed the dainty, shining boot with the scalloped top, the jaunty heel, and the delicate toe, thought her foot did look very well in it, and after a little pause, said she would have them.

And the picture. Oh my dears, the picture! (Yes, I still have my childhood copy of this novel. And yes, I knew exactly where it was. And yes, I remembered the picture in every tiny detail. It’s my Proustian madeleine, all right?)

Look at those shoes! They beat Buster Browns and mary-janes without even trying. That scalloped top! The curved heel! The instant sophistication! Not to mention the enticing, and to my childhood mind, utterly mysterious descriptor of them as “bronze.” Were they just bronze in color? Were they shiny and metallic like Mom’s fancy dress up sandals? Did they have metal tips on the toes like my tap shoes? What could bronze boots possibly be—beyond beautiful, unattainable, and forbidden?

My desire knew no bounds. It still doesn’t. Looking at that picture again…who wouldn’t want those shoes?

I should, perhaps, be more cautious in my lust. Because there is something about that scene I had forgotten. Because (since An Old-Fashioned Girl is that particular kind of nineteenth-century fiction for girls that, as Alcott put it, “is not intended as a perfect model, but as a possible improvement upon the Girl of the Period”) our Polly learns a sorrowful lesson after buying her boots.

It was all very delightful till she got home, and was alone; then, on looking into her purse, she saw one dollar and the list of things she meant to get for mother and the children. How mean the dollar looked all alone! and how long the list grew when there was nothing to buy the articles.

“I can’t make skates for Ned, nor a desk for Will; and those are what they have set their hearts upon. Father’s book and mother’s collar are impossible now; and I’m a selfish thing to go and spend all my money for myself. How could I do it?” And Polly eyed the new boots reproachfully, as they stood in the first position as if ready for the party. “They are lovely; but I don’t believe they will feel good, for I shall be thinking about my lost presents all the time,” sighed Polly, pushing the enticing boots out of sight.

Bronze boots were clearly going to lead me immediately down the path of temptation, sin, and financial irresponsibility.

I was doomed.

Happily, I am all but impervious to moral instruction, as my detailed recollection of the boots and complete failure to recall their intended lesson clearly indicates. To this day, I am on the alert for bronze boots, in the hopes of dancing like a fairy and looking perfectly divine.

And I swear I shall keep buying more shoes until I find them.

Manolo says, the publishers of this new book, Shoe Love: In Pop-Up, were kind enough to send the Manolo the review copy, and all the Manolo can say is, Super Fantastic!

This is the perfect sort of the book to give to the person who loves the shoes and enjoys the whimsy, which is the very apt description of the Manolo and many of his internet friends. It is visually witty, enjoyably well-written, and reasonably priced, under $20, and so it would be the excellent little something-something to send to someone in need of the cheering up.

Shoe Love: In Pop-Up... Super Fantastic!

Of the course, the shoe-based pop-up book would also be something one would enjoy having for oneself. Indeed, this book now occupies the prominent place on the coffee table of the Manolo.

So Friggin Ladylike!

Manolo says, the Snooki, she is not just the cultured lady-thing who drinks her herbal tea with the pinkie finger extended, she is also now the published author person!

Snooki once told a reporter for the NY Times that she’d only read two books in her life, Dear John and Twilight. The orange wonder can add one more book to that list, because her new work of “fiction,” A Shore Thing, is out in stores today. [...] The book is about a character named “Gia,” who is basically Snooki, and her cousin, who rent a “Seaside Heights beach house/dump” over the summer and try to get laid.

Ayyyy! It sounds like something by D.H. Lawrence!

Of the course, we must now look at the excerpt of this debut masterwork, The Shore Thing.

A hot guido was staring at her – in a nice way – from across the room.

Gia smiled at him. His back against the wall, he stood just off the dance floor, thumb in a belt loop. His chest muscles strained the fabric of his black tank top. It fit across a tummy that was hard and flat enough to cut salami on. No tattoos, which meant plenty of empty space on his arms to ink PROPERTY OF GIA. He started as if he could see through her dress, right down to the zebra-print bra and thong set underneath.

“I found him,” Gia said to Bella, draining her Slippery Nipple in one long suck…

The Manolo was right! It is exactly like D.H. Lawrence, only with less swarthy gamekeepers, and more swarthy guidos!

But wait, it gets better…

Right at that moment, a Deadmau5 mix came on. He was her fave; it was a sign. She stepped onto the dance floor. The music took her over. Dancing had to be Gia’s second favorite way to work up a sweat. It definitely beat going to the gym. For exercise, Gia cranked house music in her bedroom and danced until her legs felt numb. She loved dancing and was talented, too. Gia won a contest while in high school for shaking it the longest and hardest without spilling a single drop of her vodka tonic.

Tonight, she aimed her gyrating hips straight at Salami Boy. The guy could take a hint. In two seconds, he creeped over to her. In five seconds, they were grinding, her butt pressed against his thighs.

She turned around to introduce herself. “I’m Gia,” she screamed in his ear above the music.

“Rocky,” he said, putting a bear paw on her waist and holding her against him.

Rocky in his jeans, thought Gia.

Even in the dark room, his blue eyes dazzled Gia. Ice blue. Something about light eyes on dark skin always made Gia’s body temperature rise. The music was too loud to talk, not that it mattered. Gia wasn’t interested in making a deep soul connection. Tonight was all about the three D’s: Drinking, Dancing, and Duh.

“Are you from around here?” she yelled.

“You got a nice rack,” screamed Rocky in reply.

Well, yeah, she thought. Okay, not a supergenius. That was fine. Gia didn’t judge. She was glad he approved.

“Come here,” he said, lifting her off her heels to bring her lips to his. She had to wrap her legs around his hips to stay up there. Here we go, thought Gia. Twenty minutes from club entry to hookup. This might be a record, even for her.

“Bitch, get away from him!” pealed a shrill voice from behind.

Bony fingers grabbed Gia’s shoulder and yanked her out of Rocky’s arms. She hit the floor on her heels like a cat, but then stumbled and landed on her ass embarrassingly. A few guys stared, jaws unhinged, at her sprawled on the dance floor. One started drooling.

“Oops,” she said, realizing her dress was pushed up around her waist. Full-frontal thong exposure….

Gia met the eyes of the seething blonde bimbo who’d thrown her to the floor. The girl’s arms were in battle position, ready to go. Rocky stood behind her, grinning as innocently as a choirboy.

The blonde lowered her arms suddently. “Gia friggin’ Spumanti.”

“Oh my freakin God,” said Gia. “Linda Patterson.”

OMFG, indeed!

Please to alert the press, we have found the Jane Austen of this generation!

Snow in Central Park, December 27, 2010

“Winter then in its early and clear stages, was a purifying engine that ran unhindered over city and country, alerting the stars to sparkle violently and shower their silver light into the arms of bare upreaching trees. It was a mad and beautiful thing that scoured raw the souls of animals and man, driving them before it until they loved to run. And what it did to Northern forests can hardly be described, considering that it iced the branches of the sycamores on Chrystie Street and swept them back and forth until they rang like ranks of bells.”

Last week, when the Manolo recommended the super fantastic gifts for the men, he suggested that the Amazon Kindle electronic reading machine, would be the most appropriate gift for gentleman. Subsequently, many of the Manolo’s lady friends said that this thing was something they also truly wanted to find under the tree.

So, if you are the gentleman who wishes to impress the lady of your acquaintance, present her with the Kindle filled with the collected works of Ludwig Wittgenstein and Danielle Steele.

This large Chloé leather bag not only has the good clean lines for the large bag, making it suitable for the classy lady of style, and yet it is also hip enough to satisfy even the most demanding downtown girl.

Here is the Marc by Marc Jacobs Foret Chain Continental Clutch, the perfect little something-something to go with your lady friend’s little black dressy-dress.

Everyone loves to get the cashmere, it is the fabric of love! Here is the Michael Kors Cashmere Cardigan that is simple, elegant, and somewhat reasonably priced, as such things go.

The perfume from CB I Hate Perfume, the shop of Chris Brosius the most original, uncompromising, and iconoclastic of the scent designers. The Manolo is particularly fond of Memory of Kindness, described as “The shining green scent of tomato vines growing in the fresh earth of a country garden”.

Chocolate! Fancy Chocolate from zChocolat delivered in the four-drawer mahogany box that will become lasting memory of the successfully delicious Christmas gift.

1)

In April, when The Thoughtful Dresser by the Manolo’s friend Linda Grant was released in America, the Manolo said the following…

Make no mistake, if, like the Manolo, you are the reasonably intelligent person who likes the clothes, and the shoes, and thinking about why people wear what they wear, you will adore this book.

And so, for the clothing-obsessed persons of some intellect on your shopping list, you could do no better than to present them with the copy of this marvelous little book.

2)

Perhaps the funniest book the Manolo has read in the past year is How I Became a Famous Novelist. It is ridiculous in the most incredibly delightful way, certain to make anyone who reads it giddy with pleasure.

3)

Johnathan Franzen’s Freedom is so 2007. If you want to read about the American life as it is lived in the year 2010, then you must read The Financial Lives of the Poets. Sure to be dated in late 2011, this is the remarkably jolly and well-written account of our current deplorable condition.

4)

For the Manolo, as for thinking peoples everywhere, the best thing to come out of the Project Runway will forever be the Tim Gunn. His fashion advice has always been classically stodgy but sound, however, it is as the life and deportment coach where he truly shines. Thus, for the person in need of the little help, the Manolo suggests, Gunn’s Golden Rules.

5)

For the most atavistic of manly men chefs who harbor the openly poetic side, allow the Manolo to recommend the Seven Fires: Grilling the Argentine Way, from the hand of the magnificent Francis Mallmann.

6)

And for the more cerebrally inclined and less poetic chefs of your acuaintance, you should perhaps consider the Cooking For Geeks: Real Science, Great Hacks, and Good Food, as being the sort of gift book that will provide much entertainment.

7)

With exactly the right amount of informative historical text and beautiful photos Fashioning Fashion: European Dress in Detail, 1700 – 1915 would be the perfect thing to give to the would-be fashion designerish teen.

8)

Finally, the new book of shoe pictures from the Maestro Manolo Blahnik…what more needs be said?