Because You Can't Wear Platforms in the Peace Corps

my life illustrated by stories of shoes

Louboutins and Women For Women International March 24, 2010

Filed under: Life,Uncategorized — Geri Gordon Miller @ 9:13 am
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I was just catching up with a girlfriend, and she mentioned she had friends who stayed in her New York City apartment over New Years.

While in the meatpacking district having cocktails one night, they met a fantastic couple who was in town for the holidays as well. They were fun and many cocktails passed before the woman showed them the present her husband had bought her- a pair of beautiful, butter soft Christian Louboutins from the shop around the corner. After fawning over the shoes, the  man asked if they wanted a pair of the shoes as well.

YES, he went and bought them each a pair of $1200 Louboutins, just because he could. What an incredible gesture. For him, it was about seeing the gratitude and pleasure in these girls eyes. This is a gesture that changed their life in some way.

It would’ve changed my life in some way too…

Now, I feel slight guilt saying that, because think of all the good you can do with that money. You can pay your bills, go on a vacation, pay for healthcare:) Or, if you have lots of money you can do all that and buy the Louboutins, Choos and Guiseppe Zanottis, my personal fave. 

You can also sponsor a woman in a war torn country for three years with that.

 I want to share an organization that I think is incredible.  Women For Women International. www. womenforwomen.org

The sobering fact is, many women across the globe don’t have shoes. They have no water, or roofs over their head. They live in war torn countries and are trying to survive. WFW goes into these countires and teaches these women survivors of war how to rebuild their lives. They give them tools and training so they can take care of their families. Feed them. Teach them to be powerful empowered women.

For $27 a month!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just give up a few grande  lattes and there you go.

I recieved the most beautiful and heart wrenching letter from my sponsor sister in Rwanda after our year together. She thanked me for helping her, and told me for the first time ever, and she was 50, that she had a real home. She built a house for her family, all 12 of them, a small tin structure with the money she made from the skills she acquired from my small donation. She asked for my picture for her wall so she could always remember the person who did that for her.

I could not stop crying, and felt like I should sell all my shoes(and everything I own) and go live there and help every single woman who needs a fighting chance. Being realistic, that’s not happening at this minute, however, I am trying to figure out a way to do something bigger to change the world.

One fighting step at a time. In my Zanotti’s.

 

Drugs, Shoes… November 9, 2009

Filed under: fashion,Life,love,Uncategorized — Geri Gordon Miller @ 10:09 pm
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I just spent the day with my friend Darlene from New York who I  hadn’t seen in 18 years. We met waitressing at American Festival Cafe, which was in Rockefeller Center, right on the ice rink.

skating at rockefeller center     dana, geri, darlene bel grayson

There were so many people she remembered that I forgot, like my old roommate Doug,an over the top smoker, who lived with me and a couple other people in an enormous loft for the time; 2 stories with a wrap around balcony across from the Chelsea Hotel. I always say my only regrets so far in life have to do with real estate. That is one apartment I should’ve never given up.

 

The late 80’s in New York were really a moment in time. I had some of the best, most outrageous and wonderful times in my life when I lived there. The fact that I am still friends with many of those people says something. We bonded over alcohol, pot, shopping, sex, and acting  among other things.

 Not only was it a fun time to be in NY, it was much cheaper too. I think that apartment was like $1300. Right now, for $1300 in NYC you can get a 300 sq foot box studio with windows facing an alley. In the Bronx.

At the same time Doug lived with me, so did  Joanne from Wisconsin, who had short dark hair and the biggest, reddest lips I have ever seen. She waitressed with us as well. Joanne used to borrow everything I owned, and somehow never returned anything. I remember I had this cool pair of Kenneth Cole booties, that were black and had big silver buckles on the sides. Joanne swore she put them back in my closet, but I later found out she sold them on the street for a $5 bag of smack. seriously. Smack.  Try to go buy heroin for that cheap now. Or as a trade for a Kenneth Cole pair of shoes-not happening.  Although I never did indulge in drugs like that,  I have no idea how much it should’ve cost, but  $5 seems really cheap.  I guess it’s about supply and demand. Particularly for a drug dealer.
Cut to the mid 90’s, when i met my now ex. When we first spoke, he told me I was going to marry him one day. I told him I wasn’t even going to go on a date with him. How wrong I was. The week he moved in with me, he took me to the legendary once-a-year American Rag sale where he bought me FIVE pairs of shoes. I remember calling my sister and telling her this was the man I was going to marry. Unfortunately, I later found out he was bi-polar and self medicated with crack.  I am pretty sure he sold his shoes for crack. He sold everything he had for crack, including a $2500 Rolex for $250. If he only knew how much some of my shoes cost…

 

shoes. an obsession.my story November 4, 2009

Filed under: fashion,Life,love,Uncategorized — Geri Gordon Miller @ 8:40 am
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I have been obsessed with shoes since I was little.11-3-2009_001

I remember every pair of shoes I have ever owned, and the circumstances surrounding each pair. I barely recall events of my childhood unless they are about shoes. Poor Patti Mangan. I wouldn’t let her come to my birthday party if she was going to wear her white go-go boots, because I was wearing my black ones. it was my birthday, and I needed to be the center of attention.

I have loved fashion ever since I can remember. My grandmother Sadie instilled that love of clothing in me. Some of my earliest memories are of her taking me shopping. I think back on going to Jacks Department Store with her and watching her try on clothes…and furs. Mr Reynolds, the furrier (I can’t recall someone’s name I met yesterday, but I remember him) used to give me real mink tails for my Barbies. I was the only girl I knew whose dolls had genuine mink stoles. They also lived in huge mansions with black panthers as sofas, but that’s another story altogether.

When Frye boots were all the rage, my grandmother took me shopping and we bought the coolest pair of “Frye Campus” boots, which have been in my closet up until about two years ago when I handed them over to my sister, you know, as a  as a sisterly bond. Plus, they didn’t fit me anymore.Frye Boots

pink clutch 001I still have the pink, butter-soft Ruth Saltz clutch with the sculpted leather rose she bought me, also at Jack’s for my high school homecoming. I wore it with a black, way too sexy for high school, but I was a virgin so who knew, column dress, that had different colored velvet patches around the neck in different shades of red, pink, and gold, and tied around me Greek style. To top the look, I wore LOTS of eyeshadow, winged Farrah Fawcett hair, and black suede platforms. I was verryyy fashionable. And my date my a football player from a rival school.

Getting back to my youth, I had a pronating foot, so at some point my pediatrition Dr Pewterbaugh,who gave us packets of green colored, licorice flavored pills after every visit, and had the solar system painted on his walls in the waiting room, thought I should get “special” shoes. We had to get them at Newswangers, and whenever we would go to get a new pair, all the salespeople would scatter. I would throw temper tantrums like you have never seen. “I will NOT wear the ugly orthopedic shoes. They are hideous!” Seriously, I was about 6. Even then I knew, shoes make the man, or girl as it were.

I had every new trend that came around: Earth Shoes, Kork Ease, Famolares, Tretorns, Duck Shoes, each a parallel as to where I was in life. The duck shoes were important as I was going off to college, and they did look good with the Fair Isle sweaters and cords…very collegian. But I was still into my platforms, especially my tan Kork Ease with the red roses carved into the wedge and foot strap, and what I really wanted was to be an actress and study in New York.

My father didn’t think that was a real thing people did, and I had to go to a four year college or support myself, which was never going to happen, as he craftily knew. I mean, I worked at Ormonds, the Forever 21 of its day, and spent every dime on clothing. Admittedly, he did offer up FIT, but I didn’t think I had the talent, and clearly lacked the desire.

So, I decided I would go to school and be a journalist. I mean, that is acting, kinda. Plus, I could cover wars and really important things, and that would be my way of showing the disparity in the world, and those jobs are easy to get…right. It seemed like it would be a cinch, and my dad was paying for the experience.

Then, the summer before college started, I got mono, and there was the possibility I may not be able to make first semester, so I was thinking if I couldn’t start with my friends, I needed a Plan B. The Peace Corps. It seemed very adventurous to go to another country and lend a hand, plus, I read in Seventeen magazine , no doubt with Jayne Modean on the cover,about a girl who volunteered and found true love with another like soul somewhere in Africa. Exotic! Romantic!  Daring! Fantastic! I was always interested in exploring other countries, I would be doing something noble, and let’s face it, I would be a world away from my father. We just didn’t see eye to eye. On anything. Yes, that was the answer. It didn’t matter that my strict father made the edict that I had to go to school somewhere within 3 hours from home so he could check up on me, but I actually thought if I paid my way he would let me go around the world.

But of course, being that I had maybe $100 saved, and, I didn’t even rough it at camp, let alone own a backpack, that wasn’t going to happen. Plus, I wasn’t ready to give up my platforms and the collegian clothes we had bought for a year in khakis and desert boots.