Herstory: A Tiny Tale Of Alchemy (from October 2007)

Recycling the past  to stitch together The Red Tent

Whether sequin, plastic, or twenty-four carat, I believe all that glitters is gold. I'm in the business of alchemy; a job of turning what seems to be trash into treasure. Always eager to spin a good story, it's come time to weave the end-knots of one journey into the new beginnings of the next. Last fall the Caroline's Closets Vintage Adventure hit the end of a long interesting trip, rolling from 1998-2005.

One of the e-commerce early birds, community just naturally coalesced around Caroline’s Closets’ vintage content. Never a costume but sometimes an alter-ego, it was an adventure of stepping into someone else’s shoes or gently worn jeans and sharing common threads. It took me fascinating places, connected me with inspiring people, it even created a wild tale for TV. But the story that most needed to be told stayed stashed in the closet until I got so sick that my disorder slammed on the breaks.
In 2001 our press kit changed as I finally came out of my closet:

" Enough with the fake flowers and plastic smiles. The brilliant chrysanthemum Vera chosen for this Harpar’s Bazaar bio wasn’t a big bellowing fashion statement of individual style, as deemed by the fashion editor. 

It was simply long sleeved.

With only three days notice of the photo-shoot I needed something that would cover the self-injury marks on my arms. So, I flowered over the bruises and scratches and in a snapshot sealed the camouflaged face that is mental illness today. Fear filled, embarrassed and silently supporting the stigma."

And with that statement said, everything changed. A percentage of Caroline’s Closets profits started going to the DiDi Hirsch Mental Health Center of LA, an organization committed to erasing the stigma of mental illness. Slowly I began to weave a new path. Today, that path no longer has the need for old Pucci prints or corduroy bell bottoms, but, it certainly has the need for new fabric, red fabric to be exact. Along with some other building materials...

Caroline's Closets was my proof that it is possible to prevail over panic, self-injury disorder, and depression. The whole experience was messy, often times a nightmare, absolutely exhilarating, and always exhausting. And, I wouldn't trade it for the world. But what I will trade, gladly, is the old stash. Whatever funds you donate in exchange for our remaining vintage vittles will go 

directly into raising the brick and mortar Red Tent. A place where my work with women in recovery, work that began during my days at Caroline's Closets, can find an enduring home here on the west-side of Los Angeles.

What I learned through DiDi Hirsch about the mental illness epidemic in this country turned my life and path on its head. Literally. The energy I once spent dumpster diving is busy building community at a new address: www.redtentrising.com

So, as the vintage adventure rolls for one last ride, I'm issuing my final double dog dare: Do something bold. Support a local alchemist. Donate some dough in exchange for our one-of-a-kind classics from decades ago-go and watch a red tent rise.

"I'm so excited - I'm pitching a tent!"

Several years ago I rolled up The Red Tent in Venice to focus on sorting out my new life with children.  Once I took off the HEAVY mantle of "teacher" and its even more daunting badge of "healer" - I found that I had a much more to sort out than just how to handle my new role as mother.  For years I had been on the front lines of the war against women and in the midst of the carnage I hadn't noticed that I, myself, was bleeding out.  By the time I left our particular theatre - in-patient eating disorder and chemical dependency recovery for women - I was in need of my own rehabilitation.

 
My time off allowed me to figure out how to help my children stay whole while coming to my own senses about how I might be of service in the world with them.  I am excited to say that I've got the beginning of a plan even though it's nothing new.  (It never has been. )  Yep, it looks like I'm raising a red tent again!

This time around I'm changing a few things.  I'm redirecting my  energy from recovery to prevention.  I'm focusing on writing and I'm making this tent a traveling one.  Most importantly I'm not offering to teach or heal anyone.   I'm simply offering an opportunity.  I'm raising a red tent because I am raising a girl child and she needs it - as does the whole world.  I believe, that now more than ever before, we need girls who will be the living answer to Judith Duerk's long standing question, "How would your life have been different....".   I'm planning on staking the main pole and bringing the old fabrics but I need other women to pull (and reclaim!) the "guy lines" with me.

Which gets me to the subject line of this post; "I'm so excited - I'm pitching a tent!"  Yes, the pun is intended.  With me, the pun is ALWAYS intended.

What I am decidedly NOT changing this time around is what I've learned to be one of my most valuable strengths - I'm punny.   And, as it turns out, that is pretty important.  It might actually be the most important thing about my work.  I'm punny, and occasionally funny, while trudging alongside other women through our common depths.  What I discovered working with women in recovery is that an undertaking as serious as reclaiming one's sense of authentic self requires a fully functioning funny bone.  Otherwise, it can all be to much.  It can be fatal.  From where I'm standing, in the trenches of a common culture where sexual assault is excused with the label "locker room talk" - it looks to me like we are going to need a steady and strong source of levity in this most grieveous time.

A while back I started the Red Handed blog as a place to keep questioning and to keep lightening up as I navigated some personal issues born of patriarchy.  It is my hope now to share this platform with other women and girls as we communally question, confront, and rise.  And, together raise our next generation under the protection of a red tent.