When I found out earlier this year that there was an Official Preppy Handbook (OPH) sequel in the works, I was pretty stoked. Granted, I thought it was about 3 or 4 years late in the making, but I was excited to see Lisa Birnbach's take on how WASP life has evolved over the past 30 years and wondering if she'd comment on the creation of a superficial "preppy" subculture, which now present in most teen fiction and TV shows. I also thought she might distinguish between "WASP" and "preppy." But alas, just like with all sequels, True Prep doesn't exactly meet expectations. Here's a few reasons why:
1. Organization
Where the OPH chronicled Prep life from the toddler age to the "country club years" (p. 185), True Prep's organization is rather hodge-podge, jumping from the Pantheon to money to scandals to recipes (not a particularly vital section, either). Granted, I think this is a bit inevitable, since the OPH has pretty much said it all, everything else is supplementary.
2. Artificially Stretching Prepdom's Boundaries
I know the basic premise of True Prep is that preppiness has become more inclusive over the years and everyone can be preppy. However, having articles about the Google Founders and blurbs about Mark Zuckerberg starting Facebook seems like a desperate struggle to be relevant, kind of like that Vanity Fair slideshow from a few weeks back labeling Michael Cera and Miley Cyrus as preps. The Pantheon this time seems to automatically label everyone who went to a private high school as prep, and it also kisses up to Hollywood in the most cringe-inducing fashion ever. Uma Thurman preppy? Seriously?? Birnbach, do you think Jodie Foster and Brooke Shields are going to advertise your book just because you put them in the Pantheon? Shields is in there for an admittedly superficial reason: "Brooke Christa Camille Shields... is not admitted to the Pantheon for her remarkable physical beauty, nor for her academic pedigree of Dwight-Englewood School and Princeton '87. No, she is included because her handsome grandfather Frank Shields was once a tennis star" (p. 34). Weak.
3. Shameless Advertising
While I enjoyed some of the profiles about people in the fashion industry like the "Brooks Brothers: Now. And Now." section (p.114-115), many of the write-ups read more like advertising than anything else, such as the bit about Book Book (p. 93) and Verdura (p. 94). NB: Many of the clothes items selected aren't particularly classic; why photograph Polo's red leather ankle boots when L.L. Bean's are the standard? Birnbach has stressed before that "old is better than new" (p. 83); perhaps Polo paid more to advertise their boots?
4. True Prep Takes Itself Too Seriously
The OPH was simply a tongue-in-cheek observation about upper and upper middle class New Enlgand life, hence more candid and amusing. True Prep, however, seems rather contrived. From the ever-present "we" narrative to the too-cutesy references like "[a]t True Prep Central Command" (p. 62) which come across as out of date and juvenile, it seems that Birnbach and her co-author are a bit desparate to claim themselves as official arbiters of what is and is not preppy.
This is just the tip of the iceberg, however. To hash out everything I disliked would take forever. I actually did like certain parts. These came mostly from the photographs' captions, such as the mom's perpetual changes in careers i.e. "' I know I'm not a 'licensed healer,' or whatever they're called, but I think I'm really making a difference'" (p. 127) which is the perfect illustration of the prep's flirtation with the boho lifestyle, comme David Brooks, and "Portable Child" (p. 87) as an accessory (Michelle says that this is definitely true in Boston). And the pictures of the kids sulking at the children's table (p. 76-77)- art sometimes does imitate life. But the best caption was the one of the
Also, I thought the book did a good job with balancing out the different brands. I'd wondered in advance whether it was going to be all Vineyard Vines, Tory Burch, J. Crew, and Lilly Pulitzer, but there was more variance. Lilly Pulitzer didn't make much of an appearance at all, but I think it would have been a bit too ...obvious otherwise. Likewise, Vampire Weekend was not overly featured.
And the book does get some things right. Firstly, Hampden-Sydney really is America's preppiest college. My poli sci professor is an alumnus, and True Prep's descriptions match up with his own; though Dr. Sands recalls that many of the students are a bit more uncouth than what the book says. Secondly, Gossip Girl misses the mark in several ways (my boyfriend hated the "Hi, Society" episode because it got everything, from men's attire to procedure, about debutante balls wrong). Greatest quote from that section, directed at Blair Waldorf: "Let Dorota live her life ... in the kitchen, where she's supposed to be" (p. 202). I do disagree with the book's treatment of Chuck Bass, however. He's from new money, as the Colony Club women pointed out with disgust in Season Two; he's supposed to be "preppy fraud" (p. 202).
While True Prep was mildly entertaining, I found myself asking this question while reading: Was this book necessary? Prepdom has definitely morphed and become more widespread since what was chronicled in the OPH in 1980, and has become in some ways, harder to define, which this book struggled unsuccessfully with. So, the answer is: a book certainly is necessary, but perhaps not this book.
I give it 3 out of 5 stars.