Last week, shoppers around the world lost an expert and an icon. We here at Frommer's lost a colleague and a friend. Longtime “Born to Shop” author Suzy Gershman died in her hometown of San Antonio after a ten-month struggle with brain cancer. She was 64.

(You can read her obituaries here and here. Travel writer Peter Greenberg wrote a lovely tribute to his friend here.)

Suzy started the Born to Shop series in 1986 for Bantam, and Frommer’s published the guides from 1995 to 2010. Suzy and her writing partner, Sarah Lahey, shopped the world: New York, London, Paris, San Francisco, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Beijing, Italy, France, Mexico, Great Britain, and elsewhere -- more than a dozen books, some in more than a dozen editions. Her 2008 world shopping book, Where to Buy the Best of Everything, was the product of her 25 years of research (and, she noted, “ten pounds and 100,000 extra miles”).

I had the pleasure of editing this and other guides and got to know Suzy as sharp, tenacious, fun, and friendly -- graced with a remarkable wit. She once sent me a fake Rolex while traveling in China. (“Sorry, it stopped working in the taxi from the market,” the note said.) She sent me a long request for guidebook copies in the form of a Dear Abby letter. Her shopping reviews -- with their enthusiastic exclamations and creative putdowns stashed amongst the meticulously researched tips -- often made me laugh aloud. The best I would share with fellow editors: Hey, listen to this line…

When you read Suzy Gershman’s reviews, you are right there in the store or market with her, following in her wake of exotic perfume and jangling bracelets as she dashes for the goods, both the sales and splurges. Her verdict was unflinching, and she nearly always added a zinger. If she loved the store, she might declare: “I often confess that I belong to a cult -- I love just about everything Chanel.” If she hated it: “Their website sucks. Don’t waste your time.” She had no shortage of personal anecdotes: “Snugli is a tote for the baby, but I've used it for a geriatric cat, too." Or pointed observations: “Sabbia Rosa is the kind of store where a man takes his mistress." 

Here are a few more of the many sentences and stories that made me laugh aloud and read aloud. Listen to these lines -- and remember Suzy Gershman. She was one of a kind.

On the origins of Born to Shop:

"Over 25 years ago, when I first had the idea for the Born to Shop series of travel guides, I went to my then agent and said something like, 'Voila!' She was not impressed with my book outline and refused to handle the proposal or the series -- she said I was a serious journalist who worked for Time magazine and I would ruin my reputation by writing about a silly subject like shopping. I took the proposal to my husband's agent, who sold it in 2 days."

From her introduction to Where to Buy the Best of Everything:

"I have suffered more or less the same nightmare for well over three years. I wake up screaming, ‘LouLou.’ The LouLou in question is LouLou de la Falaise who now has one very charming, very interesting, very exciting store in Paris. In my nightmare, I have left her -- and her store -- out of this book."

From her chapter on “How to Be A Shopping God or Goddess”:

"Mere mortals may ask how to get to Carnegie Hall (practice, practice, practice), but a Shopping God or Goddess wants to know how to get to Woodbury Common."

On curiosity: 

"Maybe curiosity killed the cat, but it rarely kills the shopper. (I don't mean to be glib here -- curiosity can kill the shopper. Don't go down any alleys in search of a fake Vuitton handbag.)"

On knowing when to quit:

"Sure, you can shop 'til you drop, but why would you? On the way down, you'll make mistakes and buy the wrong things."

On using magazines for research:

"My home looks like the waiting room of a dentist's office. They know me at the seniors' residence around the corner because I drop off a valise full of magazines every other month. I hope that the seniors do not notice how much has already been torn from these magazines."

On the importance of museums:

"People laugh at me whenever I say that all good shopping sprees begin in a museum. I'm not trying to be funny. If you are at all interested in merchandise (of any quality or price), you can't judge it accurately until you know what the best looks like."

From a Frommer's podcast between Suzy, Frommer’s Editorial Director Kelly Regan, and me, when describing purging her house of clutter:

"Every once in a while I stop and say to myself: 'Suze, stop buying crap.'"

On Anthropologie, one of her favorite brands:

"The best thing about the store is that it teaches you how to mix periods and styles and layers and looks and come out looking fabulous and not like a bag lady."

On Hermes:

"One accessory from this brand can define an entire persona." 

On Disney Store merchandising:

"If you don't think that Minnie Mouse made into the Statue of Liberty and selling for under $10 isn't genius, then you are Goofy."

A description of Dr. Hauschka Lemon Bath Oil, by way of Nora Ephron:

"Be careful when you use this stuff. It's slick. Enter and exit tub with care or you could feel bad about your (broken) neck."

Bentwood Country Mart in Santa Monica:

"This isn't even a mall, it's a lesson in what rich people want and enjoy."

On Neiman Marcus:

"When I was a girl growing up in Texas, Neiman Marcus was not the name of a store; it was a prayer. 'Dear God, please make Momma take me to Dallas to buy a dress.'"

On 10 Corso Como in Milan:

"Take two very talented and stylish Italian sisters who look a lot like twins and you get either a Greek tragedy...or the most talked-about team in a generation of fashion talent."

On Fred Segal in Los Angeles:

"You don't need to understand how to get the LA look. You just have to have enough money to shop at Fred Segal...Okay, big boobs help, too."

On jewelry:

"I'm trying to grow another hand so I can have more room for a few more rings."

On shoes:

"What are the best shoes in the world? The pair that doesn't hurt."

...and more shoes:

"I have shoes for walking. I have shoes for standing. I have shoes for walking the dog at 3am. I have shoes for the beach. I have shoes for travel. I have shoes for bad weather. I have shoes for dressing up. I have shoes for seducing men. I have shoes for doing TV interviews. I have shoes for public appearances. I have boots and booties, too. And those are just the black shoes. You are laughing because you understand."

On wallets:

"I am still trying to find the perfect wallet. The one that is the right size is the same one that doesn't fasten and opens up in my handbag. The one that fastens weighs a ton. My Judith Leiber has lost a gemstone. My yellow plastic job from some supermarket in Italy -- the best wallet of my life -- is all marked up with pen smootz and filthy seams. I cannot afford Goyard. I persevere. To keep my handbag from becoming too heavy, I also carry a tote bag. To keep my tote bag from becoming too heavy (that laptop weighs a ton), I also schlep a roll-y roll-y when I travel. And then there's the dog tote. Someday I'll just break down and get a team of donkeys with some deep-fitted panniers."

On Lush soaps:

"The distinctive aroma of the store is enough to send an asthmatic into convulsions."

On department store beauty products:

"When the world was flat, you went to department stores for premium makeup brands and drug stores for low-cost brands. (You also stole a Tangee lipstick from the drugstore as a coming-of-age ritual, but that is another subject entirely.)”

On Sephora:

"In France, we say 'Seph-a-rah.' In the U.S., we say 'Se-For-ah.' I say tomato, you say tomah-to -- it's all the same when you're having a shopping moment, believe me."

On Paul Stuart:

"When you enter the store, it may at first glance look like a yawn, but that just proves that good taste never shouts."

On men's dress shirts:

"These days it can cost an arm and a leg to give someone the shirt off your back."

On Italian brand Zegna:

“Even if you can’t pronounce it (say ‘Zen-ya’), you can shop it.”

On Elegant Linens in Park City:

“It’s not often that I go wild for a store in the middle of nowhere (excuse me, Mr. Redford) that has no bargains, but yup, here I am in a very touristy city, just drooling onto my chest and happy to tell you that this store has an excellent collection of hard-to-find sheets and features brands that even I have not heard of.”

On Pratesi linens:

“I once became seriously ill in the [Pratesi] factory in Pistoia, Italy. I passed out; an ambulance was called. When I came to, I was in the bed in the outlet window -- the only bed in the factory. For just one moment, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.”

From an introduction to cleaning products:

“I hired a professional cleaning team to get my house in order; they treated the house with the utmost respect but seemed to have little leftover for me. I am the Rodney Dangerfield of housewives, I guess.”

On catalogs:

“My favorite catalog story is about the child who was a peer of my son’s. This young lady -- aged 6 -- was asked to bring her favorite book to first grade for a class project. She brought the Tiffany catalog. You go, girl!”

On the world’s best clothes:

"The best clothes in the world -- the best wardrobe around -- is the one that makes you feel confident. Nothing else matters."