In a 1999 London Review of Books essay, the Scottish novelist Andrew O’Hagan recalled stopping one night at the window of the Ferragamo store on Fifth Avenue. On display were a pair of stilettos once owned by Marilyn Monroe, “scarlet satin, encrusted with matching rhinestones,” which put O’Hagan in mind of ruby slippers. After a decade, or perhaps much longer, of contemplating Marilyn, it seems O’Hagan has finally got her—and her little dog, too.