London in New York

Women on my Mind in the Month of May

Mother & Son, Circa 1999

Women are on my mind these days. I am well aware of the many challenges women face still in America and around the world. But for me it is even more personal.  It has been a year since my mother was diagnosed with Lung Cancer which spread to her spine and brain and took her life shortly thereafter in the Summer of 2011. Yesterday was Central Park Conservancy’s FLO Luncheon which for the first time in 8 years, my website, ManhattanSociety.com did not receive an invitation to cover it despite our prior coverage being widely perceived as favorable (that story will be laid out in a coming blog post so do return for some juicy details), but on Thursday, May 3rd I will be at Cipriani 42nd Street to cover the 2012 Women Who Care Luncheon: A Benefit for United Cerebral Palsy of New York City which will honor many women, including a special lady I have a great deal of respect for in Patricia Duff (see also: NNDB, IMDB, Blog) who founded and heads an organization called The Common Good which is covered regularly by ManhattanSociety.com, including most recently a discussion with Gloria Steinem along with a screening of  “Gloria: In Her Own Words.” On May 8th I will be at the New York Historical Society’s Strawberry Festival Luncheon will honor Chelsea Clinton. And then on May 10th the New York Women’s Foundation will host the 25th Annual Celebrating Women Breakfast honoring among others Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton. And then on May 13, 2012 it is Mother’s Day.  Given all of the foregoing, I would expect that my mother would want me  to reflect and honor her life by being striving to be a better man each day that I am alive and following the lessons taught me from her own life.

Who Am I?

I have been asked on a number of occasions who I am, what I stand for and how did I become this way. Sometimes the inquiry was intended as a compliment, other times it was made perhaps out of shear frustration and confusion with my approach, but  finally in a number of other instances it was intended as an insult.  While it may be useful, from a communication standpoint, to be understood to achieve certain objectives, in those instances where those that did not get it or me, I was never insulted for their inability to grasp the import of a less conventional man. In some cases, perhaps a rapprochement might be necessary but yet in other cases I soon realized that it was perhaps not necessarily worth time to justify the essence or foundation of my character as a man.  Conventional thinkers have a hard time grasping unconventional people, and thus sometimes you can help them by simply walking away from them.  For, in this life, I know that I have already experienced profound love, lust, happiness and loss.  Were I to die today, I would rest comfortable in the knowledge that I have taken all that life could give in terms of punishment and need not solicit anymore.  Likewise,   I have sampled sufficiently from the tree of life, enjoyed its plentiful bounty and been given the opportunity to continue to plant seeds to infuse my spirit in to those who may out last me here on earth.  This gives me solace in the fact that while maybe there are things that cannot be changed in the here and now perhaps can be changed when I am gone.

A Revolutionary Builder of Souls: Virginia Bernadette Saunig-Roche (1-31-39 to 8-24-2011)

In my mother’s company, I always felt truly rich for it was always clear that I was in the presence of a revolutionary builder of souls. On the eve of the anniversary of her  diagnosis with Lung Cancer, which took her life soon thereafter, a little less than a year ago in the late Summer of 2011, while the pain of her loss is still fresh in my mind, the lessons of her life instilled in me are ones which I believe must be passed on.

Because of my mother, the women I have evolved to most admire have most often been strong, independent minded women committed to their own evolution, who were “resilient and self-reliant”.  Much like my mother, they could do it all. And much like my mother, they often had to explain away their success or hold back their achievements, accomplishments or superior insight because it might undermine men the stature or confidence of men relying on their wisdom.   Many of my heroes and favorite artists are women.  I am sure that some even see a place in their life for cold heartless bitches. Personally, I do not go that far, but I do have an appreciation for those who like author Arden Leigh who can embody being ‘A Weapon of Mass Seduction’. ‘‘The New Rules of Attraction: How to Get Him, Keep Him, and Make Him Beg for More is a philosophy any reasonable man would love to unwittingly embrace. Let the deception begin. But I diverge.

For the preferred type of women, a man was certainly a welcome or useful accessory but not a necessary component for their survival. While I embraced those kinds of women in my professional life, my romantic life was a mixed bag. Maybe I thought that I did not have enough to offer them? I am not 100% certain but all too often I rushed to those who I thought I might be able to assist rather than those who might complete me; some even ‘had me at hello’ but before too long I was already headed for the door.  At this point, with the clock winding down, all I can say is that may the epilogue to my mothers life be that I finally get the most important and obvious lesson of all, to embrace and support women of strength, independence and character who choose to embrace and accept me, a man with both alpha and beta personality attributes, whose passion and pursuits are not always conventional. The reward I seek may sometimes have no value to the more conventional man. I do however, know, accept and appreciate that I need the love, if not the vital energy of a strong woman infused into me much like plants need sunlight. Unlike a predatory vampire stalking his prey, I will let nature take its course; therein lay the conundrum of the beta man, he may not invest the time only to learn that she’s just not that into you. Besides which he won’t be tempted to hire a Wing Women or employ the Wing girl method. You can instead figure out how to get a Scorpio man to fall in love with you.

“Though all Scorpios do not spend their lives pondering the mysteries of life …  truly evolved Scorpios can learn to use their power to help and inspire others”, and this is what I hope to do hereby.   I honor my mother, my god and my country by embracing powerful feminine spirits who gravitate towards me and choose to steer carefully and respectfully away from those who offer a mere frolic and detour that will result in taking me off a productive trajectory in what remains of my life. I recommend you do the same. For I know that I no longer frankly have the time.  Those are my values as taught to this Scorpio man by the woman whose sign was brewed in the Age of Aquarius.

The Lessons Learned/Distilled

Female strength comes in many forms. Know, understand and accept that. But more importantly, recognize it when you see it.  Don’t run from it. Fear not strong women. I am certainly not scared of them. Instead I am scared more of weaker and manipulative women who will detract from your pursuits in life and set you back from accomplishing your ultimate destiny.

Nurture and support a woman’s strength and independence for it is the best emotional venture capital investment that a man can make in life.  More and more men will come to grasp that as fact. As men grow increasingly more secure with women’s strength they will in effect become more liberated from self imposed servitude towards the wrong women and be free to love a woman for being all those amazing things that even you as a man are as well and some of those things that you are not.  And even so they will still accept you. If you need an arithmetic lesson: 2 + 2 = 4 and 1-1=0  Many of these women know that but too few of us men know that.

A real man should have little or no desire to restrain, inhibit, control or undermine a woman’s power and feminine strength should he be lucky enough for it to find and embrace him. Likewise he is not controlling, jealous or possessive in his romantic relations with her. Even when overwhelmed by desire for her, he stands back and let’s her roam free in the wild, taking care of his other business in life, until her return. If you satisfy her needs, quench her thirst and stimulate her mind, body and spirit on many levels, rest assured and be confident….for she will return, only to savage you for you patience in dealing with her evolution away from you and to celebrate how you too have evolved in her absence. This coming together and apart is part of the process of developing your spirits and power mutually and independently. Fear not the absence of your loved one, but instead do something with that time.

Our society will only grow stronger if we nurture and support the independence and strength of women in our personal relationships, in our country and worldwide in our human policy. As the anniversary of my mother’s passing draws near and in a month of women being honored while also facing challenges around the world, I am reminded that perhaps my ultimate purpose is to help others who would dare to repress women to recognize we as a people can only lose, if our women are less or if we strive to make them less to appease fragile male ego’s.

God bless America. God bless the women of America and everywhere on this planet they meet those who would contain their dreams and their passion. Tear down the walls that impede their progress and we will remove those impediments to our own evolution.
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About: Virginia Bernadette Saunig-Roche (1-31-39 to 8-24-2011), was born in Chelsea section of Manhattan to working class American parents of German, Austrian and Italian descent. Virginia attended St. Colomba’s Catholic Parochial school and attended mass regularly at St. Colomba Church.  As an adult, Virginia resided on the Upper East Side of Manhattan for nearly a quarter century working in media ad sales and the barter industry, before retiring to Cape Coral, Florida with her second husband, James P. Roche (who worked in property management for the Trump Organization and Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center for nearly 3 decades) where she passed in the summer of 2011 at the Hope Hospice survived by her four sons, two sisters and her grandchildren.  In September of 2011, I, along with my older brother Stewart, eulogized our mother at a service held for her at Church of Our Lady of Peace, a Roman Catholic Church on the Upper East Side of Manhattan which she regularly attended during her days in Manhattan. My development and perspective were impacted strongly by my mother’s Catholic faith, common sense and wisdom as well as the regular nourishment she provided me and her other 3 sons with her flavorful and hearty meals, especially on Sunday. She will never be forgotten by those that were touched by her grace, wisdom and humanity.

Jeffry Picower – The Largest Philanthropic Fraud in American History?

ABBA -The Winner Takes it All (1980)

The history books are written by the winners. In the words of Swedish pop band, ABBA, ‘the Winner takes it all, the loser standing small, beside the victory, that’s [our] destiny.’  The relative triviality of the loser’s pain and suffering is often long forgotten. But it truly need not be that way.  With the Madoff Crime Family again in the headlines these days, what may be a worthwhile endeavor is to gather a petition of Madoff’s Victims worldwide to petition the institutions that benefited from donations made by one of the largest philanthropic frauds in American history —Jeffry Picower, the largest Madoff beneficiary. The petition should request that they strip his name as their donor of record and that  whatever that they have named in his honor should be appropriately renamed for the interests of those defrauded as well as for the integrity of said institution’s brand going forward and their ability to raise funds in the future . For example:

MIT’s Picower Institute for Learning and Memory

should be renamed to:

The Madoff/Picower Fraud Survivors Institute for Learning and Memory

Picower’s name should be removed from any institution that carries his name honoring his philanthropy. Too much of American philanthropy often comes in one name at the expense of those who have had their legacy taken from them. The Madoff Survivors have had their legacy taken from them while Mr. Picower has not.

Critical to the American Restoration movement is that  we discredit the legacy of those who have been honored for their philanthropic deeds with funds fraudulently obtained. In those cases it can be presumed that their generosity was not purely or honorably motivated but instead part of a fraudulent overall branding mechanism, the extension of their  philanthropic brand masking their covert criminal wealth redistribution schemes. America must cleanse itself and conduct an internal accounting or philanthropic colonic to liberate and detoxify ourselves from the stench of a legacy built on a cesspool of corruption or a mountain of crappola.

It matters not now that Mr. Picower was found dead and seemed to have curiously drowned in his own pool at his estate in Palm Beach, that his lawyer William Zabel of Schulte, Roth & Zabel, “who has has spent his career striking complex deals for wealthy families in sticky situations” according to the NY Times, negotiated a $7.2 Billion extraction from Mr. Picower’s widow in the form of a civil forfeiture to the U.S. Department of Justice.  Likewise that Mrs. Barbara Picower was rather graciously left with $200 million and her Palm Beach home so she could continue her ‘philanthropic works’ at this point is troubling but I will also concede it is no long relevant to the legacy of the Picower name.

This is a movement which may and ought to have legs.  Let us discredit those previously honored. The legacy of Jeffry Picower is an objective fraud so let us begin with him.  Despite the best public relations efforts of William Zabel and Picower’s widow, the   Department of Justice settlement has not cleared the Picower name as intended in the eyes of most American citizens.

RIP: Virginia Bernadette Saunig-Roche (1-31-39 to 8-24-2011)

Virginia B. Saunig

One of my fondest memories of my mother was getting up early before school to find her at the kitchen table drinking her morning coffee with several newspapers scattered in front of her. My mother prepared for me Tea & Toast and sometimes two soft boiled eggs, if I desired them. When I asked my mother why she read several newspapers instead of just her favorite one, my high school educated mother stated rather emphatically “you have to get some different perspectives on what is happening in the world.”  To this day, as I attempt to analyze and write about the world around me and my experiences in it, the lesson she taught me so early on is what keeps me evolving as a human being and as a citizen. She instilled in me the idea that there was always another layer to what you might accept as your own personal truth.

As the years passed, and I graduated from Sheepshead Bay High School, no matter how far I advanced my High School educated mom always had some wisdom, experience or perspective that would often make me stop literally in my tracks and wonder why all that time at Boston University and the University of Pennsylvania Law School had given me so many intellectual blind spots. She would joke that she got an advanced degree at the ‘School of Hard Knocks’ and boy did she ever.  She often rather humbly joked that I was the educated one and that all she really had was common sense; the type which was necessary to survive in a complicated world.

Years later after a horrible break up with a woman I hoped to marry left me shattered, confused and lost, my mom asked me two simple questions.  ”Christopher, after you get done crying, what are you going to do?”  I looked at her in a bewildered fashion. Was she really that heartless? And then she probed further and stated in a somewhat hesitant fashion “You know that girl seems to have everything she needs in life and you keep giving her more and yet she is still not happy. Did you ever stop to consider that maybe it is not your job in life to make her happy?” I sat alone in my stepfather’s den looking at the ceiling literally stupified how she seemed to say so little but change the whole trajectory of how I looked at the world.

Again a few years later, when I found myself distraught and dispirited after a business failure in the post 9/11 economy, I called her for assistance as I felt ready just to give up. This time I was not crying but by the tone of my voice I might as well have been. Again, she asked, “when you get done feeling bad for yourself, what are you going to do? You still have two arms, two legs, you are healthy, strong and educated, do you realize how lucky you are relative to all the other folks who have fallen down and may never get back up?”  I said well mom, I may lose my residence. You are all the way in Florida.  I may end up homeless. What would I do?  ”I guess you would go to a Homeless Shelter, get a job, start saving your money again and when you have enough get a small place or an apartment share.” To this day, I love her more for not giving me an easy out when deep down I knew she wanted to.

Out of the blue a friend, my former Pilates instructor offered me a deal in exchange to help her with some personal matters ironically enough close by to where my mom grew up in Chelsea.  I could have use of her spare bedroom until I got back on my feet. When I was finally getting back on my feet, I asked her how do I repay you? I do not have the resources to do much. She said, some day someone will reach out to you when you are in a similar position to me.  Don’t turn away from them. If you have food, a shoulder or a space for them to lay down on and rest their weary bones, you will know what to do. I sat there with my Tea & Toast contemplating the synergy of feminine wisdom that had infused my life and reinvigorated my passion for getting beyond life’s challenges. Throughout my life in some troubling moments, select strong women have appeared randomly, people who my mother would likely have enjoyed meeting, and served as reminders of what is possible so I might no longer consider them impossible.

When I visited with my mother for an extended stay recently, my mom’s grace was self evident even while her time on this earth was clearly coming to a close. She seemed more worried by those around her who she thought were making too much of a fuss and too many sacrifices for her.  She was always more worried about someone else more  than herself.

The Son of A Heroic Woman

Most of my life I know that I have been somewhat of a character, one that my family nevertheless found charming because I took ‘the road less traveled’. They, especially my mom, never bothered to remind me that maybe I ended up on that road by default because of my own imperfections and failings as a man.  Nobody likes an old Peter Pan.  My father’s demise helped me turn one corner in terms of emotional maturation. Yet, I was never really sure whether I had my mother’s respect because I had not built significantly on what she aspired for me. In many respects she believed in me more than I believed in myself. Her parting gift to me was subtle. My oldest brother reminded me shortly after I left her side in Florida that “Chris had grown up and become a good man, and she did not realize how good until she saw me again,” As a man all you ever want is the woman you most admire to think you are a good man.  Isn’t that what we live for? Whether I have achieved that status or not, my responsibility now is to be the type of man that honors the investment that my mother made in me. And if I do that all praise by to god and my mother. I am no hero but I am the son of one.

A Chelsea Girl Moves On

Today at 3 p.m. in Cape Coral, Florida, my mother Virginia Bernadette Saunig-Roche, who was born and raised in the Chelsea section of New York City,  and the daughter of Phillip and Dorothy Saunig, Americans of Austrian, German and Northern Italian descent, passed on. Virginia attended St. Columba Catholic School which was part of the Roman Catholic Church of St. Columba on West 25th Street.  She is survived by my step father James P. Roche and her four sons and two sisters. My mother had been residing in Cape Coral, Florida for more than a decade after living on Manhattan’s Upper East Side for more than fifteen years. At the time of her death, she was under excellent care at the Hope Hospice in Cape Coral, Florida. She passed while she was sleeping. Thanks to the humanistic work of folks at Hope Hospice my mom went on into the next world in a peaceful and dignified manner. May she Rest in Peace.

My mom was one who always wanted to learn something from every experience in life. Over Tea & Toast, she taught me how to learn and she taught me how to survive.

There is never a good time to lose a loved one, but there are better ways to go than others. My mother passed on while sleeping with her beloved husband and my stepfather, James P. Roche by her bedside at the Hope Hospice. Given her humble roots and her life’s dream to spend her golden years on the waterfront in Florida, I am pleased and relieved that she did not go in anything less than a loving environment in a dignified manner and with the love of the daughter she always wanted tending to her daily, her close friend Lorrie Robinson.

End Care in America: A Vital Concern

Masked in the Health Care debate is what we do about our aging population. End Care is a vital concern.  Given the state of our country and the existing Health Care system, my rational fear is that many of our loved one will not leave this earth with the dignity that they deserve. A compassionate society must allow those who have contributed so much to sustaining it move on with honor.  The Hospice Community deserves your attention and philanthropy. The Hospice community exists largely on the generosity of some of Society’s most significant philanthropists, many of whose names I perused over on the walls of the Hope Hospice in Cape Coral, Florida

While I am comforted that my mother will RIP thanks to the humanistic and yeoman work of the good folks at Hope Hospice, many others may not be so fortunate.  The lesson for me is not just to honor my mother’s life, the lessons she taught that enable my own existence but to also use what I learned and what I observed in her last hours to implore those who may not be focused on end care for the aging, to consider making philanthropic contributions to end care facilities like Hope Hospice so that more of our citizens can move on with dignity and honor.

To the philanthropically inclined, I merely ask when you  explore making philanthropic investments consider doing so in the local Hospice community whether you are in Cape Coral, Palm Beach, the East End of Long Island (see East End Hospice),   New York City, Texas, California, New England or another part of this country.

Mothers Are Ordinary Heroes

My mother, Virginia was a woman who from her humble working class roots, equipped herself sufficiently to move her offspring forward to experiencing a greater view and understanding of the world. Many look for heroes or role models to follow in the popular culture, athletes, TV Stars et al etc.  Perhaps if a few more of us recognized the glory of ordinary people who do extraordinary things, including in how they raise their children, we need look often no further than our mothers, fathers, teachers, firefighters, policeman, doctors and nurses etc.

I will find my peace in my mother’s dignified treatment in passing in the quiet of her sleep and my ability to celebrate the life of an ordinary American who had reverence for her god, a passionate patriotism for her country, an unrelenting commitment to her children, her husband, her sisters, a special love for god’s four legged creatures as well as consideration for those less fortunate even during her darkest hours.

To those who read this, I hope your loved ones and friends may find the same comfort when their time comes to pass on as my mother did at the Hope Hospice.  Support the Hospice Community.  If you love me and wonder what you can do for me or my family at this time and have loved ones yourself, find a Hospice to support. You may also make a donation in my mother’s name: Virginia Bernadette Saunig-Roche. The information you need is referenced below:

Hope Hospice
2430 Diplomat Parkway East
Cape Coral, FL 33909-5405
(239) 574-4888
web: http://www.hopehospice.org/
Contact:  John Strickling, e-mail: john.strickling@hopehospice.org

God Bless you all. Peace.

Ken Langone & Friends Set $9.7 Million Dollar Fundraising Record in NYC

View of the Chrysler Building & Grand Central Station from Cipriani 42nd Street Photo Credit: Chris London's Blackberry Bold

Looks like the stars were aligned just right tonight in the heart of New York City at Cipriani 42nd Street for the NYU Langone Medical Center’s Violet Ball where $9.7 million was raised by the city’s leading philanthropists for one of the most critically important institutions in this town, still “a helluva town” indeed.  NYU Langone is a special a place that many of my friends and family have turned to in a time of crisis and received truly “world class” medical care. So seeing this institution on sure footing is one that comforts a great many New Yorkers.

This was truly a historic evening. I feel honored to have been afforded a window to document a good part of it. The 2011 Violet Ball honored Trustee Fiona Druckenmiller and her husband Stanley Druckenmiller for their exemplary commitment and devotion to NYU Langone Medical Center and celebrated the Medical Center’s longstanding tradition of excellence in education, research, and patient care. The Druckenmiller leadership gift to the Neuroscience Institute and their commitment to clinical and research excellence in this field form the blueprint for a truly remarkable future in neuroscience (ok, some of that was from the press release but I verified it and its all true).

The 2011 Violet Ball was the highest single dinner fundraiser that I have covered for any institution in New York City since I started documenting philanthropy in NYC shortly after 9/11. I do not believe there has ever been a night of this level of fundraising for a single institution, medical or otherwise in the history of New York City. Aside obviously from the Robin Hood Foundation which targets poverty in New York City by finding and funding the best and most effective programs and partnering with them to maximize results, making them in effect a venture capital enterprise or feeder fund for the treatment of the things that ail or plague our perfectly imperfect society.

This is noteworthy because at a time where many may be inclined to level critique on the gilded classes I have over the last few years watched one man, an Italian-American I can proudly say, working in a rather resilient fashion, change the face of how charity works in this town. And as a Spanish/Italian American that makes me especially proud to be perfectly honest. Generations of New Yorkers will have Ken Langone to thank, to thank that he spent his golden years as a prolific fundraiser rather than relaxing or chilling on a lounge chair on a secluded Island drinking Mai Tai’s. The man with the heart of a lion is virtually unstoppable and I can only hope that for our sake he keeps going like the Philanthropic energy bunny that he is. As a former close female friend and confidante stated to me when she read my text message of this blog: “ I love Ken Langone, the man has big cajones and is truly a class act.”

Speaking of health, I am writing this blog on my blackberry from in front of my locker at Equinox where I am about to do some “preventative care.”

All the professional photos (or at least the ones I took with my Nikon) will be on Manhattan Society.com tomorrow but the best photo may have been taken with my blackberry outside Cipriani 42nd Street.  Yes, for it truly was a Violet Night thanks to Philanthropists Ken Langone and Stanley & Fiona Druckenmiller, even if the sky looked more periwinkle, close enough I say, close enough.

God bless them and New York City! Still a helluva town indeed.

Credit this report as from the heart and the photo as well as the rather quick prose to my Blackberry Bold. The things you have to do when you are a publisher, writer, photographer who has to work a day job to do the thing he loves to do at night –Life, Liberty & The Pursuit of Philanthropy. C’est la vie.

**A Special Thanks to Eileen Sullivan at Rubenstein Associates, Inc. for helping me expand my understanding of the world of philanthropy in New York City.

Stacy London Leads UJA Fete of Frank Doroff & Steven Tanger at Cipriani

Elie Tahari, Stacy London, Steven Tanger

The Jewish spirit of philanthropy and commitment to community were very much in fashion and boldly on display at Cipriani earlier this week. More than 400 fashion-industry executives, professionals, designers and pillars of New York’s philanthropic community gathered to honor Frank Doroff, vice chairman of Bloomingdale’s, and Steven B. Tanger, chief executive officer of Tanger Factory Outlets Centers, Inc., at UJA-Federation of New York’s Annual Fashion Luncheon on Tuesday, April 5th at Cipriani 42nd Street in New York City.

Stacy London, co-host of TLC’s What Not to Wear, style correspondent for NBC’s Today Show, and founding partner of Style For Hire, emceed the luncheon. Michael Gould, chairman & CEO of my favorite department store, Bloomingdale’s, presented to Frank Doroff and Laurence C. Leeds Jr. of Buckingham Capital Management Inc. presented to Steven B. Tanger.

This year’s event raised more than $850,000 for UJA-Federation’s annual campaign that sustains a network of more than 100 health, human-service, educational, and community-building agencies that touch the lives of more than 4.5 million people annually. Among those celebrating Doroff and Tanger were Jacki Nemerov of Polo Ralph Lauren, Elie Tahari of Elie Tahari, David Fisher of Bloomingdale’s, Ron Frasch of Saks Fifth Avenue, Brigitte Kleine of Tory Burch LLC, James B. Bradbeer Jr. of Lilly Pulitzer, Eileen Fisher of Eileen Fisher Inc., Wes Card of The Jones Group Inc., Vince Camuto of Vince Camuto, and more.

I was only too happy to cover this event, not just because UJA is the world’s largest community based philanthropy and because the event took place at one of the city’s most regal venues in Cipriani 42nd Street or because many in attendance were some of the very people who intensively support many critical local philanthropic organizations.  Stacy London’s presence was very much of interest.

As I arrived to take photos at the event, Stacy London asked me when the last time I took her photo was, I advised her that it was at a DIFFA –Dining by Design event in 2008 but that I had actually covered her father Herb London’s (a big thinker with the Hudson Institute), philanthropic efforts at the Soho residence of A.C.E. founder and philanthropist Henry Buhl. I then joked that since we had the same last name, if we got married she would not have to change hers. I was only half kidding. She humored me and expressed relief about not having to change the monograms on her luggage.

New York City local of Sicilian and Jewish American heritage, Stacy London (no relation to me despite some crossover in our ethnic backgrounds) has evolved into a truly unique media persona. Her fashion perspective is, in my estimation, truly humanistic.  She brings forth to her work values that involve self respect, taking pride in one’s appearance as a process to elevate one’s life and ultimately human dignity. God knows at times, personally I felt like I could use some instruction in “what not to wear.” Ms. London’s useful and often humorous instruction in how to attain confidence in one’s appearance makes clear that self respect is not a function of one’s socioeconomic status.  Thus, as more than a stylist but in effect consumer advocate she assists the every day man or women to find the proper way to value themselves without breaking the bank.  Stacy London illustrates that dignity is affordable for everyone. For you elevate our society one individual, one family and one community at a time; values that UJA, its honorees and Stacy London clearly exhibit in the values of their every day lives. And to that I can only say “L’Chaim.”