'Scruples' by Judith Krantz
'I'm indulging myself and I won't let anyone tell me I can't afford to. Of course I can and you know it. This is between me and me!'—Review #284
I attended an event at the Brooklyn Public Library in April called ‘Pernicious Trash: Reconsidering the Popular Novel’ that featured the founders of Mandylion Press and New Yorker staff writer Rachel Syme. It was a fascinating conversation that explored how and why some popular works of fiction are critically overlooked and sometimes outright disparaged as ‘trashy novels.’ Several books were name-checked by the panel, but ‘Scruples’ by Judith Krantz caught my attention. I don’t remember why, exactly, but it had something to do with how Krantz sold millions of copies back in the 1980s, but seems hardly thought of today. I guess I was interested to see what all the fuss had been about. Also, it has been said that I only feature high-brow literature, and I wanted to show that:
I figured I would have a hard time finding a copy of ‘Scruples’ in the wild, and I didn’t want to go on another ‘Lonesome Dove’-esque search, so I ordered a copy through Alibris. The edition that arrived was pristine, as if it had never been read, and it radiates a late-’80s energy that I love:
The Oscars are coming up and Billy Winthrop Ikehorn Orsini hasn’t got a thing to wear. Billy is drop-dead gorgeous, glamorous, tall, a multimillionaire, married to a Best Picture-nominated producer, only 35 and the owner of Scruples—one of the fanciest high-end boutiques in Beverly Hills. She storms into Scruples one day looking for her top lieutenants—‘Spider’ Elliot, the store’s manager, and Valentine O’Neill, its in-house custom-couture designer—but they’re nowhere to be found, off with clients. When they eventually turn up, Billy’s like:
The story then pivots to flashbacks. Billy (full name Wilhelmina Hunnenwell Winthrop) comes from the poor side of a patrician Boston family that can trace its roots to the Mayflower era. As an only child of a mother who died young and a father who’s more interested in his work than in her, Billy gained weight and was unpopular in school. Because of her size and lack of interest in college, there is little hope for Billy’s prospects until her Aunt Cornelia has the idea to ship 18-year-old Billy off to France to live with a countess who has a reputation for refining girls from well-to-do families. France transforms Billy—she sheds the weight as meals seem to consist of little more than a lettuce leaf or two—and after two years, she returns to the U.S. to attend secretarial school in New York. She gets a job in the office of a wealthy businessman named Ellis Ikehorn, who’s 40 years her senior, and after a torrid affair on a work trip to Barbados, they get married. Ellis eventually dies, leaving his millions to Billy, who gets the idea to open Scruples. When her lawyer warns her that retail can be a money pit, she’s like:
Spider, who’s real name is Peter, got his nickname from his five sisters—it has something to do with Spider-Man, but I forgot the connection. He’s your standard hot guy from California, with the blond hair and the cool attitude, and he’s a notorious lover of beautiful women. He had been a fashion photographer in New York before running afoul of a powerful editor. Valentine is the red-headed and hot-tempered daughter of an Irish-American G.I. and a French seamstress who grew up in the fashion house of Balmain, where her mother worked as a clothes fitter. Valentine’s eye and aptitude for designing and making beautiful garments eventually leads her to New York, where she lives next door to Spider. A chance encounter with Billy brings them to Scruples. When Spider and Valentine arrive at the store, it’s struggling. After an initial flurry of business, no one goes there anymore. Billy is considering closing, but hopes the pair can breathe new life into the shop. She’s like:
While Spider and Valentine are resuscitating Scruples, Billy flies off to hang out at the Cannes Film Festival, where a series of events will lead her to her second husband and put her on the path toward:
Will Scruples succeed? Will Spider and Valentine make Billy the perfect dress? I won’t spoil it. But if all of this feels like a lot, well, it is—and I haven’t even gotten to the racy bits yet. ‘Scruples’ is packed with plot and world-building that suddenly smash cuts into smut. While fleshing out Valentine’s backstory, for example, Krantz offers an extended and fascinating explanation of the French fashion industry, from how the couture houses function to the various levels of artisans whose skilled stitching, cutting, measuring and sewing is needed to craft beautiful clothes. That thread eventually leads to a raunchy scene in a men’s room. In another example, Billy reflects on her years with Ellis while trying to figure out what to do with his cremated remains. She hires a private plane so she can sprinkle the ashes over the Napa vineyard that they owned. Back at the airstrip, Billy asks the pilot to go with her on a drive, and she takes him to a no-tell motel for an encounter that had me like:
This storytelling reminded me of when you’re at a bar with a friend who is telling you an interesting but long story—and suddenly their third drink kicks in. That can be momentarily entertaining, for sure, but those conversations often devolve into rambling speeches, long-winded and boring. Same deal here. ‘Scruples’ runs out of steam, literally, in the second half of the book during an overly long sequence about making a movie. I thought that part would never end. And when it finally does, the sexy side quests that punctuated the early pages are either drastically toned down or replaced by slapstick humor that doesn’t land. The story blew a tire and never really got moving again. I was like:
‘Scruples’ is not for every reader. Some may be turned off by the explicit material, others by the outdated references to race, religion, sexual identity, drinking while pregnant, weight and unprotected sex. Still, I’m glad I read this novel. I liked Krantz’s direct and unpretentious style. I learned a lot about how rich people live, think and function, as well as how the retail and fashion industries work. (The book even offered insights and inspiration for how to better manage and market this newsletter!) I was inspired by the fact that Krantz, a former fashion journalist, didn’t write ‘Scruples,’ her first novel, until she was 50—it’s never too late to chase your dreams! And I’m happy I explored the work of a new-to-me author and literary genre (bonkbusters?!) that dominated the bestseller lists decades ago. ‘Scruples’ is an artifact from the late 1970s and 1980s, a go-go era of excess, indulgence and yuppie striving, and it remains a relevant read today.
An opening excerpt:
In Beverly Hills only the infirm and the senile do not drive their own cars. The local police are accustomed to odd combinations of vehicle and driver: the stately, nearsighted retired banker making an illegal left-hand turn in his Dino Ferrari, the teen-ager speeding to a tennis lesson in a fifty-five-thousand-dollar Rolls-Royce Corniche, the matronly civic leader blithely parking her bright red Jaguar at a bus stop.
Billy Ikehorn Orsini—whose faults did not normally include a tendency to erratic driving—brought her vintage Bentley to a stop with an impatient screech in front of Scruples, the world’s most lavish specialty store, a virtual club for the floating principality of the very, very rich and the truly famous. She was thirty-five, sole mistress of a fortune estimated at between two hundred and two hundred fifty million dollars by the list makers of the Wall Street Journal. Almost half of her wealth was tidily invested in tax-free municipal bonds, a simplification little appreciated by the IRS.
Hurried though she was, Billy lingered in front of Scruples, casting a piercingly proprietary eye over her property on the northeast corner of Rodeo Drive and Dayton Way, where, four years ago, Van Cleef & Arpels had stood, a white plaster, gilt, and wrought-iron landmark, which looked as if it had been clipped off the Carlton Hotel in Cannes and shipped intact to California.
Billy’s tawny wool cape was lined in golden sable against the chill of the late afternoon of February 1978. She pulled it around her as she looked quickly up and down the sumptuous heart of Rodeo Drive, where the two facing rows of immodestly opulent boutiques outglittered each other to create the most staggering display of luxury in the Western world. The broad boulevard was made gay by pointed ficus trees, vivid green all year round, with low, wooded mountains visible in the near distance, like the background of a Leonardo da Vinci.
My rating:
‘Scruples’ by Judith Krantz was published by Crown Publishing in 1978 and by Bantam Books in 1989 and 1992. 574 pages. $8.99 ebook available at Bookshop.org.
What’s next:
Books on GIF does not solicit or accept review copies. We feature books we purchase at independent bookstores around New York City and on our travels, or were borrowed electronically from the Brooklyn Public Library.
Before you go:
ICYMI: Review #283
Read this: Here is the piece Rachel Syme wrote about ‘Scruples’ for The New Yorker. Now that this newsletter is finished and sent, I’m looking forward to reading it!
Thanks for the shoutout: Special thanks goes to my newsletter friends Alicia and Kolina Cicero. Alicia asked me to list a few books I’m looking forward to reading this summer. Kolina just finished ‘Lonesome Dove,’ and her review includes some quotes from and kind words about BoG. Thank you, friends!
If you enjoyed this review:
Thanks for reading, and thanks especially to Donna for editing this newsletter!
Until next time,
Mike
One thing I forgot to mention in the newsletter is that 'Scruples' was apparently turned into a TV miniseries starring Lindsay Wagner (The Bionic Woman!) as Billy. It also included Barry Bostwick and Kim Cattrall. I looked for it, but it's not streaming anywhere that I could find.
This was SPECTACULAR! Hilarious! So fun!
Busted out laughing at the “I’m a little trashy” gif. 😂
Billy Winthrop Ikehorn Orsini
WHAT A MOUTHFUL!
“This storytelling reminded me of when you’re at a bar with a friend who is telling you an interesting but long story—and suddenly their third drink kicks in.” 😂😂😂
Shrieked at the $55,000 Rolls Royce. Ha! Cries in inflation. 🫠