Jack turned the page and pointed,
“Look here.”
There it was, Warhol’s signature and above it,
“For my beloved Alexey Brodovitch.”
A GOLD BOOK was self-published in 1957 when Warhol was still an illustrator, working regularly on assignments from Harper’s Bazaar.
In the 50s, Harper’s Bazaar was making its name as the fashion magazine with outstanding creativity with its artistic fashion portrayal and graphic-rich editorial design. One of the key players at the time was the talented art director Alexey Brodovitch.
To a young Warhol, Brodovitch was probably a god. We can easily assume that this bestowing of his work was based on his earnest desire to be noticed by Brodovitch.
And this book was this precious record of this piece of history and that alone would catapult the value of this copy. No wonder Jack was shaking.
“You have found an amazing book… now how should we get a hold of this one?” Jack said, biting his lips.
“This store is not well-versed in artbooks, so this can easily be an oversight. But the fact that it doesn’t have a price tag means that he hasn’t sorted this pile out yet. I’ll bet the owner hasn’t realized what a treasure this is.”
“Are the unsorted piles upstairs books that you bought recently?” Jack asked the owner, carrying the book in his hand.

“Yeah, this old couple that live at the Dakota House nearby asked us to pick them up recently. Found anything you like?” he asked.
“This was in the mix,” and handed over A GOLD BOOK to the owner.
Then he goes, “I can do $20 for that.”
Jack and I looked at each other.
“By the way, like your pair of jeans. Is it vintage? Love how the color faded,” the owner asked me.
“No, it’s not a vintage but I’ve had it for so long, it’s like a friend to me,” I said.
“Like you say, jeans are like a friend. I love them, so I tend to look at others are wearing a pair. Take good care of it as you do with your friends, alright?” he continued.
Then Jack put his arms around the owner’s shoulder and said, “This book has so much value you won’t believe. I can’t take it off your hands with that kind of price.”
“There are books I know about and don’t know about. You’re the same. And that book I don’t know, so that’s all it is. No matter how much it’s worth, I’m saying I’ll sell it for $20. And I’m not losing out,” the owner clearly stated.
“Yataro, you found this so you should buy it,” said Jack.
“I know you’ve been in here a number of times. Hey, this must be some kind of luck, you know, that’s how a customer and a bookshop get well acquainted. Today is probably something like that,” the owner said with a wink.
So I reached into my denim pocket and barely found a $20 bill and some change.