Because Breakfast at Tiffany’s is about a young woman who sustains herself by consorting with New York City’s wealthy elite, Capote scrutinizes the relationship between wealth, social status, and overall happiness. More specifically, it becomes clear that Holly worships the idea of wealth and prestige, as evidenced by the fact that she goes to Tiffany’s—a jewelry store famous for its diamonds—when she’s feeling down, finding that the store gives her a sense of tranquility. What’s more, Holly claims that looking inside Tiffany’s makes her feel as if nothing bad will happen, a sentiment that underscores the transformative effect that the mere idea of wealth has on her entire disposition. This makes sense, considering that she originally came to New York after experiencing genuine poverty. What’s more, Holly ran away from Doc Golightly, who took her in when she was orphaned and then married her when she was only 14. Given her personal history, then, it’s easy to see that a lack of wealth has put her in precarious situations that have undoubtedly limited her ability to establish a happy life. In this way, Capote suggests that Holly’s preoccupation with wealth is tied to her desire to belong to something, and invites readers to empathize with those who value money and material possessions rather than to judge them for having what might otherwise seem like superficial values.
It’s evident that Holly wants to be revered by New York City’s elite, given that she frequently entertains rich men, commits herself wholeheartedly to perfecting her mannerisms, and cultivates an aloof persona that draws people to her. However, neither Holly’s popularity nor her status as a “girl-about-New York”—as a newspaper article refers to her at one point—appear to have any lasting influence on whether or not she’s happy. This becomes evident when Holly tells the narrator that very few things in her life help her banish what she calls “the mean reds,” a term she uses to talk about a restless feeling of discontent and “angst.” She tells the narrator that alcohol doesn’t make her feel better, nor does marijuana or, for that matter, aspirin. The only thing that does help, she says, is going to Tiffany’s. “It calms me down right away,” she says, “the quietness and the proud look of it.” It’s worth noting that Holly takes comfort in the “proud look” of the expensive jewelry store, as if the elevated sense of status has an inherently soothing quality to it. For Holly, wealth and opulence represent the contentment and comfortability that her life still lacks.
What’s most tragic about Holly’s preoccupation with Tiffany’s is that she feels as if her actual life is out of touch with what the store represents. To that end, she tells the narrator that the reason she hasn’t bothered to properly furnish her apartment is because she doesn’t feel as if her current life contains the happiness she’s looking for, so she doesn’t want to settle down. She says she would finally do this if she could find “a real-life place” that made her feel like she feels when she’s at Tiffany’s. This suggests that Holly’s attraction to Tiffany’s is directly linked to her unhappiness, though she never quite admits that she’s dissatisfied with her life. All the same, it’s obvious that her trips to Tiffany’s are attempts to feel something that she thinks is sorely missing from her actual existence. Interestingly enough, though, the wealth and opulence that Tiffany’s symbolizes actually are in sync with the life Holly already leads, since she has successfully become a popular and respected “girl-about-New York” who is an integral part of the city’s high society. Accordingly, readers begin to sense that Holly yearns for something deeper than the supposed happiness that comes along with material wealth.
Indeed, what Tiffany’s represents to Holly isn’t just status and wealth, but a sense of belonging. Although she socializes with the city’s elite, she herself doesn’t come from a wealthy background. If Holly could be a customer at Tiffany’s in her own right, it seems, she might feel like she actually belongs in her life. Instead, she works as something of an unofficial prostitute, going out with wealthy men and sometimes engaging sexually with them in exchange for their financial support. This is the only way that Holly has managed to work her way into this echelon of society—a fact that makes her feel as if she doesn’t belong amongst even her closest acquaintances. Holly even admits at one point that she doesn’t have any true friends, a sign that her status and popularity do little to make her feel at home in her new context. This feeling of estrangement from her current circumstances is why she covets wealth, seeing it as a way to move on from her embattled past and finally settle into a life that otherwise feels inauthentic and foreign. By spotlighting these emotional dynamics, then, Capote suggests that Holly’s attraction to affluence and prestige has more to do with her search for happiness and belonging than with a sense of shallow materialism or vanity.
Wealth, Happiness, and Belonging ThemeTracker
Wealth, Happiness, and Belonging Quotes in Breakfast at Tiffany’s
“Oh, you get used to anything,” I said, annoyed with myself, for actually I was proud of the place.
“I don’t. I’ll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead." Her dispraising eyes surveyed the room again.
“If I do feel guilty, I guess it’s because I let him go on dreaming when I wasn’t dreaming a bit. I was just vamping for time to make a few self-improvements: I knew damn well I’d never be a movie star. It’s too hard; and if you’re intelligent, it’s too embarrassing. My complexes aren’t inferior enough: being a movie star and having a big fat ego are supposed to go hand-in-hand; actually, it’s essential not to have any ego at all. I don’t mean I’d mind being rich and famous. That’s very much on my schedule, and someday I’ll try to get around to it; but if it happens, I’d like to have my ego tagging along. I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany’s.”
“Rusty thinks I should smoke marijuana, and I did for a while, but it only makes me giggle. What I’ve found does the most good is just to get into a taxi and go to Tiffany’s. It calms me down right away, the quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there, not with those kind men in their nice suits, and that lovely smell of silver and alligator wallets. If I could find a real-life place that made me feel like Tiffany’s, then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name.”
“The night I proposed, I cried like a baby. She said: ‘What you want to cry for, Doc? ’Course we’ll be married. I’ve never been married before.’ Well, I had to laugh, hug and squeeze her: never been married before!”
“Certain shades of limelight wreck a girl’s complexion. Even if a jury gave me the Purple Heart, this neighborhood holds no future: they’d still have up every rope from LaRue to Perona’s Bar and Grill— take my word […]. And if you lived off my particular talents. Cookie, you’d understand the kind of bankruptcy I’m describing.”
Flanked by potted plants and framed by clean lace curtains, he was seated in the window of a warm-looking room: I wondered what his name was, for I was certain he had one now, certain he’d arrived somewhere he belonged. African hut or whatever, I hope Holly has, too.