Momentum

I never would have guessed that my (thankfully!) brief interaction with the "mean girls" at an upscale area boutique would be so abundant in lessons (as well as blog material!), but I've come to realize that when a lesson is truly learned, the Universe responds by sending rich rewards. 

My main concern in canceling a Fabulous Shoe Night event at that boutique was that it would inadvertently halt the seemingly self-propelled forward momentum FSN has seen to date. Response to the concept has been so overwhelmingly positive that sometimes I have to pinch myself … so, after canceling, I was nervous at having virtually no future events scheduled. 

But again, my intuition began nudging me  … and this time, I listened. As I've watched Fabulous Shoe Night grow, it has become clear that this growth has all been organic … meaning that nothing was ever forced. Serendipity has played a huge role in our progress, and my gut was telling me to just to let things progress on their own. So, I did something that, well … does not come naturally me. I was patient.

Not patient as passive … I still worked, every day, to get FSN heading in the direction of my long-range vision … I just didn't push things too hard, trusting instead that things did, and would continue to, happen in their own time … when that timing was right.

Remarkably, I didn't have long to wait.

Within a week of canceling with the "mean girls," I was contacted by two boutiques and two restaurants about doing Fabulous Shoe Nights. As if that wasn't exciting enough, it was so refreshing to see that the people involved truly "got" the FSN concept. They were excited about raising money for charities near and dear to their hearts, and their eyes and faces virtually lit up when discussing who their Fabulous Shoe Night event would benefit. There's nothing more gratifying than working together with enthusiastic, compassionate people to benefit a deserving cause, and then actually making a difference. It's like a drug, really … and the addiction seems to be contagious. 

Fabulous Shoe Night now has several events scheduled in the coming weeks, and we have more irons in the fire stretching out into the New year. Looking back, I feel almost silly now that I was so worried about canceling an event with that little, snooty, inconsequential boutique … particularly given the location, instant name recognition and prestige of where our second Fabulous Shoe Night charitable event was held just last week. 

Oh, wait …. you mean I didn't tell you??

Bloomingdale's!

I can't wait to see where our heels take us next … !

A Most Important Cause

While Fabulous Shoe Night continues to grow and flourish, we have had to modify some things to accommodate our changing needs. That sounds better than, say … we're making things up as we go along, but, actually … we are. 

I had first intended that our FSN monthly Girl's Nights Out  would benefit a different local charity each month, figuring it was a way to help many in our own backyard. But, this is a new concept, and we're learning as we go along. Since the restaurant where we hold our GNO's can only donate from the food portion of our bill, and are donating 10% at this point, I felt it wasn't making a big enough impact. As most of the members of Fabulous Shoe Night feel with the height of our heels, our thinking is "go big or go home," and that includes money donated to charity. So I made an executive decision and decided that, for our first year, FSN Girl's Nights Out would benefit the same local charity in order to be able to donate more money, thereby making a bigger impact. The charity we chose fell in my lap, thanks to the suggestion of my wonderful friend Robin.

Lately you can't turn on the TV or radio, browse the Internet, or pick up a newspaper without hearing about the heartbreaking story that has come out of Penn State, and now Syracuse University. So when Robin told me about the Family Support Line, in Media, I was eager to get Fabulous Shoe Night involved. 

Family Support Line is a non-profit organization offering "specialized services that prevents child sexual abuse and cares for children and families who have experienced this trauma." They were established in 1984, when a mother seeking support for her daughter called attention to the need for the support of families with a child who has been sexually abused. Surely, with the secrecy and shame associated with childhood sexual abuse, such support for the entire family is vital. 

Yes, the cause is timely, with all the horrific details emerging daily on the news, but … I honestly can't think of a better organization to donate regularly to during our first year than one that protects the very innocence of children. 

So while our social Girl's Night Out concept has piqued the interest of many for it's pure fun-factor, we get the most satisfaction in that by simply gathering together with friends each month, in our fab shoes, (something we would absolutely do anyway) … it's actually making a difference. That is what I'm most proud of. I love that. Love it.

But … the best part is … we're just getting started. Can you just imagine the possibilities??

Something So Simple

Every time I've ignored a gut reaction, I've regretted it, so I don't know why I thought this time would be any different. Ultimately, it wasn't, but I think I nipped what could have been a disastrous situation in the bud. Lesson learned.

My last blog post relayed the story of a not-so-nice sales clerk I dealt with while trying to promote Fabulous Shoe Night at an area boutique. The initial meeting did not go well, and I left with a distinctly bad feeling …  it was abundantly clear these people just didn't "get" the Fabulous Shoe Night concept.  FSN is not about how many pairs of high-end designer shoes you own, but rather about helping people. So I was frankly shocked when, more than a week later and seemingly out of the blue, I received a phone call telling me they wanted to host a Fabulous Shoe Night after all. Wanting the event to take place, I convinced myself that I misjudged them. I worked really hard to convince myself of this. Really, really hard.

Yet still, the bad feeling lingered. I was ignoring the little nudges of my intuition that any type of a partnership with this boutique was going to be difficult at best, but I was determined to go through with it, unpleasantries and all, to gain further exposure of the FSN brand. But … at what cost?  I've often felt that when Life is trying to teach you a lesson, the same issue will present itself again and again until you finally get it, and, if you continue to ignore it, you will be presented with a proverbial smack in the head, something so jarring and obvious that it will be virtually impossible to ignore any longer. I've experienced this exact pattern often enough in my own life, yet still I  forged ahead, against my better judgement and willfully ignoring the ever-increasing nudges of my intuition … which were growing distinctly sharper with each interaction I had with this boutique staff.

While  negotiating the terms of the simple, straight-forward business contract I presented to them, they were haughty, condescending, demanding, and at times, almost mocking. I felt I was, literally, caught between a rock and a hard place. In an attempt to keep the event on track, I tried to stay focused on two things … I really wanted to help  their charity of choice, and I also wanted to get the Fabulous Shoe Night name out to their customer base. This was business, right? Just suck it up, deal with the mean girls, and, in the end, be proud that FSN helped another charity.

But, again … at what cost? Dealing with these women was so difficult. The more I tried to compromise, the more unreasonably demanding and mean they became, at one point going as far to ask me, "Really … who do you think you are??"  (This was because of a point in my contract asking that they get an insurance rider, for one night, so if any of their customers drank too much wine that night, FSN wouldn't get sued. I know, I know … how incredibly selfish of me!) 

It was then that the Universe dealt me my long overdue smack in the head … in the form of a sweet, thoughtful and totally unexpected email. 

It came from a young woman living nearby who was diagnosed last year with a disease that resulted in alopecia. She is now almost completely bald … and in her early 20's. Wigs are expensive, and she bought one with the hope of purchasing another in the future. When she went back to Lovely You to browse wigs, she was offered a substantial financial gift toward the purchase of her second wig … a direct result of the money raised at our first Fabulous Shoe Night held at Sorella Boutique in Media.

My eyes flooded with tears as I read her email, and suddenly, everything made perfect sense. I got to work immediately. Within minutes I drafted an email to the boutique, canceling the event altogether, politely telling them that I didn't feel "our goals were in synch." Clearly, they weren't. Perhaps I was putting FSN back a few steps in order to gain the right kind of forward momentum in the future, but my instincts were literally screaming that any kind of association with this boutique would be detrimental. I'd much rather we stay stationary for a time, waiting for the right kind of people to move forward with, than damage the vision and integrity of Fabulous Shoe Night for mere exposure. 

The next email I sent was a thank you note to the young woman who unknowingly provided me with that much-needed wake up call. My desire to grow FSN and help ever more charities clouded my judgement, and caused me to veer dangerously off-track. It took something as simple as a thank you note to steer me back on course. I am beyond convinced that if we remain pure of heart and true to our intent to be a vehicle to help charities, Fabulous Shoe Night will effortlessly gain all the "exposure" we need. I see it happening, seemingly of it's own accord, nearly every day. 

Going forward, thanks to my wake-up call, I have more clarity and focus about how to proceed as Fabulous Shoe Night grows. But, as anything grows, some things have to be modified in order to accommodate changing needs. 

So … we have added an addendum.

Mean girls need not apply.

Just Keep Swimming ...

Coming off such a successful Fabulous Shoe Night charitable event at Sorella Boutique in Media last month makes me, actually … a bit nervous. This is such a new and unique concept, so I think it's only natural to wonder if I can pull it off again.

I don't know … 

Can I??

Unfortunately, there's only one way to find out, and that's by knocking on doors, asking other area shops and boutiques if they, too, would like to host a Fabulous Shoe Night to benefit the charity of their choice. Despite the overwhelmingly positive reaction I get when and wherever I explain the FSN concept, I still get jittery when it comes to asking.

I started my quest at one of the Main Line Philadelphia area's premiere boutiques, located about 40 minutes away from my home. Since they are so fabulous, and since I never fail to get comments and compliments on them, I decided to wear my lucky cowboy boots that were the catalyst for the entire Fabulous Shoe Night concept. 

As I walked into the boutique, a place I had never shopped before, I was greeted by a pretty, stylish woman about my age, who immediately zeroed in on my boots. (Yes … they really are that fabulous!) Inwardly smiling that my subtle, harmless manipulation had worked, I thought how easy this was going to be. After a few minutes of browsing, we began chatting,  and I told her and another clerk about my purpose for the visit. The first clerk, whom I'll call Mary, immediately understood the concept, as well as what it could mean for sales at the store and the owner's pet charity, and was very enthusiastic. The other woman was older, and unfortunately had the snooty demeanor of the sales clerk who shamed Julia Roberts out of her store when she was dressed as a prostitute in "Pretty Woman." Lets's call her Brunhilde. In fact, she had the same gaunt appearance and haughtiness as the mean clerk in the movie, but I didn't want to be judgmental, so I focused my attention equally between the two. A few more seconds into my pitch and it became painfully obvious that she didn't like …the concept …? My boots …? Me …? She looked distinctly bored as I was explaining the FSN concept, while Mary chattered on excitedly what fun their customers would have. They told me the owner was due in shortly, so I decided to try a few things on while I waited.

The store was packed with wonderful merchandise, so I got to work looking around. But … have you ever had one of those "off" shopping days, where nothing seems to really work? I just didn't love the things I was trying on … and, at those prices, I wanted to love whatever I bought. While Mary was busy with another customer, Brunhilde held up a mustard colored ponte knit sheath dress. The color was, frankly, awful, and I politely told her it was "not me." She kept urging me to try it on, telling me it looks fantastic "on everyone." Ugh … whatever.

True to my instincts, I did not like the dress on me. I felt it made me look wide in the hips/thigh/abdomen area …. not a look any woman aspires to, so I couldn't wait to get it off. I normally wear between a size 4 or 6, but, for some reason, it just wasn't flattering on me … at all. Just as I began to unzip the back zipper, Brunhilde called for me to come out of the dressing room and show her how it looked.  I pulled back the curtain and told her my concerns with the fit. She said, loudly, her voice seeming to echo throughout the shop, "I couldn't agree more. I'm agreeing with you! Take that off, right now! Get it off!" 

 And here I was worried about my sales pitch of the Fabulous Shoe Night concept?? 

Not exactly feeling the love, I decided to leave my card and ask that the owner of the boutique call me if she wanted to learn more. Feeling dejected on my ride home, I began questioning the viability of the FSN concept, as well as my ability to "sell" it. Yet, any time feelings of self-doubt creep in, there is a spark that remains, refusing to be extinguished. I believe in this. I believe in this with every fiber of my being, and I know that once we get this truly off the ground, FSN has the capability to raise a lot of money for charities. That thought is what keeps me going when I begin to doubt myself, and even the concept itself. This is going to work … as long as I "just keep swimming," like the character Dorie sings in one of my favorite movies, "Finding Nemo."

I was able to shake the feelings of dejection after a few days, and realized I had to pull up my boot straps (on my fabulous new Lucky Brand boots!), and continue to knock on doors. Then, while in the middle of driving one of my sons somewhere, my phone rang. It was Mary, telling me that the owner of the boutique was "very eager" to hold a Fabulous Shoe Night event at her store. Could I come in later that week to discuss details and possible dates? 

Wow …. really? 

Like Dorie, who had to learn to steer clear of  stinging jellyfish while she just kept swimming, remaining focused on her goal, I have learned that I need to keep clear of the Brunhildes of the world.

And the color mustard yellow.

There is No Crying in Fabulous Shoe Night

All throughout the genesis and planning of the Fabulous Shoe Night concept, I have been eager to basically just hurry up and start helping people already. Having to wait to do so until the (boring! mundane! God-awful!) legalities could be put in place was like Chinese water torture to me, because, as anyone who knows me will tell you, I am not very patient. So I should have been thrilled and happy last Thursday night, the evening of our first fund raising event, that what I had been waiting for, planning for, wishing for all these months was finally here, right?

Nope. Not even close.

Instead I was a bewildering blend of self-doubt and certainty. I was certain … positive! … that no one would show up. Certain that the entire concept was a stupid idea. What was I thinking …?? A women's social group combining shoes and charity??  Ridiculous!! A little voice would occasionally interrupt (I like to think it was the voice of reason) and whisper that if it were truly a stupid idea, I wouldn't have so many wonderful, intelligent, busy people offering their time and talent to help make my "folly" a reality. Only problem was ... it didn't interrupt often enough. In the mental tug-of-war between self-doubt and reason, self-doubt was clearly ahead.

Sorella Boutique, here in my hometown of Media, PA, was hosting the first ever Fabulous Shoe Night charitable event. Guests were invited to wear their most fabulous shoes, and enjoy wine, champagne and appetizers as they shopped. 20% of sales from the evening would go to deserving clients of Lovely You, a shop catering to the special needs of women enduring the ravages of chemotherapy and/or radiation, offering wigs, head scarves and comfort care products … as well as emotional support. I couldn't think of a better  group to help for our first event, and my panic rose anew … I didn't want to fail these women.

The closer the hour got to the event, the more doubt crept in, all but 

obliterating any voice of reason. I needed reinforcements. I had already pestered my husband enough during the day … so I called Jeff. He has that Yoda-like quality that imparts calm and wisdom during my frequent bouts of panic. Thank God he picked up. After patiently listening to my verbal and emotional tsunami, clearly hearing the impending tears in my voice, he succinctly said, "There is no crying in Fabulous Shoe Night."  As I tried to protest, he stopped me again, knowing I hadn't really heard him. "No … listen to me. There is NO crying in Fabulous Shoe Night. People will come, it's going to be great. Just go and do it. Call me tomorrow." 

Oh … ! Well … that was quick. Humph. Having no other choice, I squared my shoulders and sighed, brushing away one last tear. Okay, then … let's do this.

Through my panic, I couldn't help but notice as I walked through the door at Sorella that the atmosphere was … festive. Char, the owner, and her staff were excited, happily relaying that they had been answering calls all day from women inquiring about the event. 

Despite my fear of no one showing up, women began to slowly trickle in, some in groups, others alone. I walked around, talking to each of them about what Fabulous Shoe Night was all about, and my goals and hopes for the future. Everyone seemed very receptive to the idea, and not a single person confirmed my fear that it was a "stupid" idea. Quite the opposite, actually … they loved it. I slowly began to relax. 

At one point I stood back and just observed, visually trying to drink in everything that was going on. I noticed something I hadn't counted on … in fact, never even thought of;  a growing sense of sisterhood became evident. There was an energy in the air that you could actually feel. They got it. A group of women came together on that rainy Thursday night to help other women, women they don't know … and will likely never meet. But we all knew we were there in silent support of these women going through their own personal Hell called cancer. We were happy to be there, and that positive energy we all felt was both unifying and unmistakably up-lifting.

By the end of the night, I was mentally drained, but feeling buoyant enough to go out for a celebratory drink with Char and my friend Patty. We exceeded our goal for the night … exceeded it. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. When I think that the money we raised that night may help a woman going through chemotherapy get a wig instead of the head scarf she thought she had to settle for … I feel buoyant all over again. That's what we're all about. That's the spirit of Fabulous Shoe Night I intended all along … women coming together for a fun night out, all wearing our most fabulous shoes, helping to make the world a better place … unified. 

Every time I think about it, my eyes fill with tears. Happy tears.

Let's do this.

Who ... Me? Networking .... ??

I was lucky enough to attend the "Women on the Move" luncheon given by Main Line Today Magazine last month, as two of my friends were honored. I was going for the fun, and to support my friends, yet a lot of people told me it would be a great networking opportunity to get the word out about Fabulous Shoe Night. 

Oh … I never really thought of it that way.

Networking is not something that comes naturally to me, as I've never had to do it. Before my entry into full-time Mommy-hood, I was a nurse, and, unless you had administrative aspirations, you just did your job and collapsed at the end of each shift. Simple enough. The same with motherhood … do your "job," and pretty much collapse at the end of each day … hoping that when your head hit the pillow it actually was the end of your day. Sure, there are always those Mommies in any neighborhood, pre-school playground, etc. that try to cozy up to the "popular" Mom … but, if you want to get technical, they're actually social climbing, not networking. Not something to aspire to.

So, I went to the luncheon with some new terminology swimming about my head … I wasn't just there to support my friends, I was also there to "network" and "make contacts." 

Okay. 

Ummm …. okay. 

For those of you who may not know me personally, did I mention that I'm shy? I am. For those of you who do know me, please stop giggling. I say that because, every time I mention what I feel to be my innate shyness to one of my friends, they always burst out laughing, at which point I usually stamp my foot in frustration while insisting that I really am shy. This is always followed by more laughter, then another foot stamp and a more emphatic "Really!!!" ... with perhaps a mild expletive thrown in. My wonderful friend Danel is a perfect example of this;  she burst into a fit of giggles when I once mentioned my shyness. The more I protested, the more (and harder) she laughed. Ten minutes later we just had to call a truce and agree to disagree … each confident that we were actually the right one.

Armed with the knowledge that I was there to harvest "contacts," I scanned the crowd nervously. How does one go about this networking, I wondered? Forgetting my mission, I soon became engrossed looking at all the women's shoes. Old habits die hard, I guess. Before I knew it, though, someone was complimenting me on my shoes. We got to chatting. One thing led to another, and before I had time to think about the answer, I was asked what it was I "did." My usual answer, "I'm a stay-at-home Mom … I have three sons," was on the tip of my tongue before I caught it. Instead, I answered, " I'm forming a women's social group combining fashion and charity for fabulous women … it's called Fabulous Shoe Night." Previously, my answer regarding full-time motherhood would be met by a myriad of reactions ranging from admiration to all-out pity, so I was unprepared for what came next. "Wow!! Really??! That sounds like so much fun! Tell me more!" Before I knew it, the one woman I was talking to had morphed into five. They all had questions for me. Someone tapped my shoulder and said there was someone on the other side of the room who wanted to meet me. Wait … wanted to meet  me?  Oh … okay.

By the end of the luncheon, I had a purse full of business cards, two lunch dates, and an offer to do PR. Oh, yeah … and an invitation to join a women's networking group.

Networking group, you ask?

Not to worry … I've got this networking thing covered. 

The (Too) High Price of Fashion ... (continued)

Part II: The Fall

The doorman grasped my elbow protectively as he guided me up the stairs and out of the storm. I thanked him profusely as he took my (useless) umbrella out of my hands and closed it with a practiced ease. "Bet you're glad to be out of that mess, huh?" he asked. Just this brief, pleasant exchange, combined with being out of the fury of Mother Nature and the other horrible events of the morning, made me feel … protected, taken care of. What a nice older gentleman! He saw I was in distress, soaked, stressed, and helped me. I loved this place. It was safe. I smiled at him gratefully, feeling the pink, happy glow of unexpected, caring interaction between two strangers. I was here. Mission accomplished. Now I could relax and enjoy the rest of my day.

Determined to shake off my rocky start, I straightened up, shook the remaining raindrops from my hair (careful  not to spray my new friend, the doorman, in the process), and wiped my face dry. I would worry about my shoes later, I thought, as I felt my toes sloshing around. I looked around the grand lobby of the Bellevue. A huge expanse of marble floor stretched before me, bustling with people and activity. Looking up, I took in the height of the atrium, flanked on all sides with upscale stores. Now comes the fun part. Shopping. Retail therapy was definitely in order.

I began to make my way to the ornate staircase at the far end of the lobby. Not four steps into it … it happened.  Time suddenly shifted into slow-motion as I felt one of my 4" heels slip on water on the marble floor … water that had traitorously  dripped from my own umbrella. My arms made a crazy backstroke motion in the air as I tried valiantly to maintain some sense of balance.  My left leg flew out in a grotesque split as I watched in a dazed, detached curiosity, as if it was happening to someone else. I crashed down onto my right knee-cap, hard. So hard it would ache for months afterward; the impact actually bruised the bone.  My body pitched forward as I landed on my belly. My arms flew out before me and the umbrella clattered noisily on the floor, the impact now amplified in the suddenly quiet atrium, drawing attention to my awkward gymnastics. Time switched yet again from slow-motion to a dead stop as I realized I was lying … literally belly-flopping … on the floor of the Bellevue.

No … the ground did not swallow me up, as I was wishing  it would. Why do sinkholes never happen where and when you want them to?

Time remained at a standstill as my eyes swept the lobby. It was suddenly, impossibly empty … I was the sole attraction. From my position on the floor, I scanned the upper levels of the atrium and staircase … all conversation, all activity stopped as everyone's eyes were now on me … still belly-flopping. No one stepped forward to help me. I heard a business man chuckle on one of the upper levels. The attendant at the Information Desk remained seated as he casually leaned forward to ask, seemingly unconcerned, if I was alright. I looked back toward the lobby … where was my friend, the doorman?? He was no where to be seen … probably helping some other woman in out of the rain. Bastard.

My face burned with hot shame as I tried to gracefully hoist myself up off the floor. My umbrella lay several feet from where I landed, and I limped over to retrieve it, my right shoe having landed somewhere else entirely. It took another minute (hour!) to find it. With both shoes now on, and with as much dignity as I could muster, I got up and took a few tentative steps, having lost all confidence in my ability to walk in public. Oh, yeah … and if I remembered correctly, I didn't have a stellar track record for driving so well over the past two days, either. Note to self: all forms of self-locomotion will be suspended until further notice.

Feeling like I was enveloped in a cloak of shame and embarrassment, I somehow made my way up the staircase as I abandoned my plans to shop and head right to the luncheon. No … I wasn't hungry, I just needed, desperately, to sit down. Maybe I could get a glass of wine? But then I thought better of it … I didn't want the garage attendant to smell alcohol on my breath when I confronted him about the low-hanging pipes that damaged my car as I ripped him a new one.

The lunch was uneventful and woefully predictable … rubber chicken amidst a table of strangers I wouldn't know today if I fell over them, too. I did notice, however, that I was the only one with limp hair and damp clothing; no doubt my table-mates hogged all the indoor parking at the Bellevue. I managed to make pleasant chit-chat and eyed their glasses of wine enviously as I made plans for escape. I needed to get out of there. I needed to go home.

I needed a nap. 

I needed a hug.

I needed a good cry.

The rain and wind hadn't let up at all as I trudged my way down Broad Street back to the garage. I resigned myself to being uncomfortably damp until I got home. I was met with indifference when I confronted the garage attendant about the damaging pipes. In my panic, I didn't even think to take photos of the pipes making actual contact with the roof of my SUV, so there was nothing to "prove." Being married to an attorney, I should have known better. Oh, well … just add that to the growing list of stupid things I did that day. And, of course I was told, "No, Ma'm … that's never happened before." Yeah … right. 

Ironically enough, the day's storm clouds really did contain a silver lining. That was the dark and stormy March night I met my friend Andrea out for dinner when we were complimented on our shoes. The night the idea for Fabulous Shoe Night took seed, and slowly started to grow. Looking back, I guess it was a good day after all. No, not just good … pivotal. Fateful. Even life-changing.

As far as the Joan & David black patent leather pumps with the 4" heel that played a part in my belly-flopping … no, they haven't been on my feet since. And the Bellevue …? 

Um, no .. I have not been back.

I hate that place.