Vogue might have considered at least hiding Jennifer Egan in the hedgerows, or Lydia Millet by the fountain,” said Schappell. Age-appropriate Egan, not in attendance, turned out to be a popular suggestion—Julavits and Robinson both mentioned her, and she’d sprung to my mind as well. It’s her camera-ready cheekbones, obviously, but also the fact that, like Wharton, Egan is a Pulitzer Prize-winner. But Schappell ultimately decided she sympathized with Vogue’s plight. As she wrote to me yesterday in an email, “Female authors are notoriously dumpy and plain. Often obese. To find a female writer without a hump back and a mouth of tusk-like teeth is quite a task. Behind our backs they refer to us as The Beasts of the creative arts.
Slate’s Kate Bolick on the lack of women writers in the lavish Edith Wharton Vogue shoot.