Blogs and Stories
The Bag Lady Papers Cont'd
Alexandra Penney—a New York artist and former editor of Self Magazine—lost her life savings in the Madoff debacle. In a new post on her Daily Beast blog, she writes about her shaky future, losing her health insurance—and Domino’s Pizza sticker shock.
It's been a little more than a week since Bernie Madoff raped me financially.
Hundreds of vitriolic comments blasted onto the site basically calling me a rich bitch. A few were sympathetic. I wasn't surprised one way or the other because I'm scared shitless about just having to survive these days. But it suddenly seemed clear to me that we are all in this together. Aren't we all afraid when we've lost our jobs, our savings, our homes, pensions—and our confidence?
I'm down to a tranquilizer and a half a day and only a few are left. I won't be able to afford health insurance any longer. For God's sake, hurry up, Obama!
Those fears are overwhelming me now. The fear of loss of independence, the loss of dignity, the loss of self, the loss of identity, even the seemingly small loss of not being able to pick up the check for a cappuccino when a friend is going through a rough patch.
You may think I was an out of touch elitist prancing around in starched white shirts, but pretty much everyone I talk to is scared of what's going to happen to them in these really frightening times. Greed and insatiability have ripped off millions of Americans just like that M.F. (aka the motherfucker, Bernie Madoff) robbed every cent of my IRA, my entire life's savings.
I confess I loved luxurious things. I admit I have 40 white shirts (they add up when you keep them from college days). I admit I had a housekeeper who came three mornings a week, elegant china, and a dented white 20-year-old Chrysler LeBaron convertible.
I have never, for one nano-second, felt entitled to anything, but I have the goddamned right to feel good about having earned the money by myself. I was able to have the life I had as a consequence of working really, really hard from the time I was 16.
Yes, I was lucky. Spectacularly lucky to have a first-class education, landed good jobs, written best-selling books, and met influential people along the way. (Some of us are granted this, by whom or why I don't know.) I am grateful every day for that luck and for good health (so far) and my small, faraway family and my incredible friends. I am grateful for all these gifts—they were given, not earned.
I've always tried to be a decent, generous person. I've worked in smelly fish markets and walked through the rarefied air of the Condé Nast offices in three-inch Manolos, I've lived in a cubbyhole cold-water walk-up studio apartment, and owned a (highly mortgaged) house as a getaway, so I know a thing or two about many aspects of this complex world. If you think that makes me a whiny, guilty, self-serving, self-reverential bitch, be my guest. (Although I won't be able to serve you caviar or white truffles anymore.)
New Routines
Every day I arrive at my studio in my white shirt (I'm sure you'll want to know if it's freshly ironed) and jeans, usually around 6 in the morning. I most often leave between 9:30 and 10 at night. I'm down to a tranquilizer and a half a day and only a few are left. I won't be able to afford health insurance any longer. For God's sake, hurry up, Obama!
I write and work on my photography with fanatical concentration. Nonstop activity also helps to keep the ever-circling demons of fear at bay. But really I don't know what else to do with myself. I don't even think about eating at the studio, so when I finally get home, I've been subsisting on what's around: some Progresso soups, nonfat yogurts, eggbeaters, and the last of the Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia.
I've been out once, in the evening, with old friends who called and said, "We're on our way to take you out for dinner—now!"
In these ten days the M.F. has been parading around town with that rictus smile on his greedy, bloated face, while his personal chef is sweating in one of his kitchens, preparing moist, exquisite Kobe beef for him.
Last night I thought, ‘Okay, it's Saturday, I'll leave work, it's time for a treat.’ Called the consort and we decided we'd try and watch some TV and munch on a pizza. There's a Domino's on my corner so I sally in and order two pizzas, no salads, no extras. When I hear the piped-in Christmas carols, a deep sadness envelops me.
As a child I went to a big church with my grandmother every Christmas Eve. The world seems so bright when you're a kid and there are gifts under the tree. "Suck it up," I say to myself. "Don't waste your energy on self-pity. The plain cheese and the veggie 'feast' pizza smell delicious and are ready to go." But the tab comes to over $20! "I thought the ads said 'buy one, get one free...'" I protest. "Only on Tuesdays," the cashier replies with a sympathetic nod. Are the rip-offs ever going to stop in this country? Can the sleigh bells ever sound real again?
Guilt
I wake up this morning at about 4 and the terrors are beating me down in full force. I think about my life, the bad parts of me and the good. About trying to better women's lives with the pink ribbon, about giving money to a friend's daughter to send her through college (no, she never knew it was from me), about helping those who cannot read or see, about mentoring retired schoolteachers, volunteering in a mental hospital to help women regain a sense of self-esteem.
Staying Alive
I am writing this blog for money (not much). I need money. And some peace of mind. I have only enough to last for a few months. I am sometimes so paralyzed physically by the thought that I literally cannot move. And I'm looking for a job. Or jobs. Again. Good ideas suddenly come to me. They've been the bedrock of any "success" I've ever had. This is one of my best new job ideas:
Set up a lemonade stand on Worth Avenue in Palm Beach, and charge a million bucks a glass, save a few dollars for myself and give the rest to the charities that the M.F. killed.
I am not a weeper. And yet when a friend wrote me about the death of her husband after a horrible illness, the email completely undid me. There are so many worse things happening in the world but still, each of us, no matter how bad things are for others, has his own worries, his own horror stories. My consort, seeing me, head down on the kitchen counter, said, "Hey, you look a lot younger. Crying makes your face puffier, much better than Botox."
{Humor keeps you on track. That and the absurdities of the world. The M.F. walking around town, smiling, smiling, smiling…)
This morning is slushy gray New York at its most forbidding. When an artist friend gave me a Valentine's Day present of a $35 eBay digital camera 11 years ago, I began taking pictures of flowers. On my kitchen windowsill (yes, I have a windowed kitchen, my first ever), are four orchid plants. Three were gifts from friends, and the fourth I bought a few months ago at the flower market on 27th Street. I am embarrassed to say those poor plants are living in the worst conditions, but I love them and talk to them like some sort of lunatic (but it's what green thumbers recommend highly). The sill is freezing in the winter and stultifyingly hot in the summer.
I water them from a nice copper thing, and feed them, but they never seem to blossom. Who would under such circumstances? But this morning, looking out at the opaque, moody city, I saw a shoot with some unmistakable buds on it. My orchid will bloom again. I hope I will see its pristine white flowers by the new year. I am deeply grateful for all I have. But the terrors and the dark demon snakes do not let go.
Related:
The Bag Lady's Papers, Part I
The Bag Lady's Papers, Part III
Alexandra Penney is an artist, best-selling author, former editor-in-chief of Self magazine, and originator, with Evelyn Lauder, of the Pink Ribbon for breast cancer awareness. She had a one-person show at Galerie in Berlin in April and her work was shown at Miami’s Art Basel. She lives in New York, has one treasured son in Los Angeles and more amazing friends than could ever be imagined.
The Right Dumps Carrie
Jacob Bernstein is a senior reporter at The Daily Beast. Previously, he was a features writer at WWD and W Magazine. He has also written for New York magazine, Paper, and The Huffington Post.
What's Joe's Problem?
Lloyd Grove is editor at large for The Daily Beast. He is also a frequent contributor to New York magazine and was a contributing editor for Condé Nast Portfolio. He wrote a gossip column for the New York Daily News from 2003 to 2006. Prior to that, he wrote the Reliable Source column for the Washington Post, where he spent 23 years covering politics, the media, and other subjects.
Geithner's Stock Plummeting
Jeff Madrick is a contributor to the New York Review of Books and a former economics columnist for the New York Times. He is editor of Challenge Magazine, visiting professor of humanities at Cooper Union, and senior fellow at the New School's Schwartz Center for Economic Policy Analysis. He is the author of Taking America, The End of Affluence (Random House) and The Case for Big Government.
The Bag Lady Papers, Part VIII
Alexandra Penney is an artist, best-selling author, former editor-in-chief of Self magazine, and originator, with Evelyn Lauder, of the Pink Ribbon for breast cancer awareness. She had a one-person show at Galerie in Berlin in April and her work was shown at Miami’s Art Basel. She lives in New York, has one treasured son in Los Angeles and more amazing friends than could ever be imagined.
The Bag Lady Papers, Part VII
Alexandra Penney is an artist, best-selling author, former editor-in-chief of Self magazine, and originator, with Evelyn Lauder, of the Pink Ribbon for breast cancer awareness. She had a one-person show at Galerie in Berlin in April and her work was shown at Miami’s Art Basel. She lives in New York, has one treasured son in Los Angeles and more amazing friends than could ever be imagined.
Madoff Victim Alexandra Penney on His Guilty Plea
Alexandra Penney is an artist, best-selling author, former editor-in-chief of Self magazine, and originator, with Evelyn Lauder, of the Pink Ribbon for breast cancer awareness. She had a one-person show at Galerie in Berlin in April and her work was shown at Miami’s Art Basel. She lives in New York, has one treasured son in Los Angeles and more amazing friends than could ever be imagined.
Its time to return to God ask for His help He is always there and that is real security! Try it and see the blessings shower on you, for the the ones who submit to Him there is no fear on them and the do not grieve.And the way to return to Him is to learn about Him .To do that all you have to do is ask Him from the bottom of your heart with all sincerity to guide you to the right path.Dont suffer anymore ask for Gods help believe in Him and submit to Him and you will see the truth.I will pray for you also!
Are you kidding me? White shirts, ironing, maid, cottage, 500K in money returned to you? This has got to be a statirical look at the "victims" of Maddoff. Well you had me going there for a little bit.
I have been in your shoes and it is not easy to even get up in the morning let alone share your story with the world. I admire your ability to lay yourself bare while going through this nightmare. I wonder though if you could find an attorney to sue the SEC for their part in the Ponzi scheme.
What you will lose in this process is the arrogance that you can somehow control everything. When my husband lost his job 2 years ago with no severance, I learned compassion for those who really have no choice. We have 4 kids and were suddenly plunged into this anxiety ridden state you suggest only at a much lower level.We never were at the economic level you were to begin with so we had less far to fall when it hit. It doesn't matter how many pink ribbons you've given, how much goodwill you yourself have generated because that still suggests YOUR effort. This will be about surrender to something far greater than yourself. We learned what our saggy self esteem had been propped up on all those years. It's not an easy thing to go through and it's still going on more than I want it to be, but I know now that we will make it. Poverty is a great equalizer.
I read your story in yesterday's London Times and cannot tell you how sorry I am firstly for the horrible crime that has been committed against you and secondly for the hurtful comments being posted to your blog. I like you am a woman who has worked extremely hard to achieve success and financial security. I also confront jealous and uneducated individuals who believe everything has been handed to me because the concept of hard work has never been a concept they understand. I wish you all the best Alexandra and have no doubt given your talents you will achieve your fortune in the end.
Penny, You are in my thoughts and prayers. I wish you the best and hope you can get yourself out of this unbelievabel financial pit this MF man created for you. Sending you Light~Love~Serenity~ a hug and the knowledge that not everyone is a total worthless shit like those that want to tell you how much wose they have it..and call you names. Shame on those that would kick you when you are down. Do whatever it takes Penny, but do pick yourself up and surround yourself with good people. I'm really sorry for you.. you did everything right and this is very very wrong.... Take Care.., Susan
So why are you giving away blog posts instead of selling your work?
There's little doubt in my mind that you'll heal in every sense of the word. Right now your self esteem is understandably a little shot, but the talents and strengths that have brought you so much success haven't gone anywhere. And notice I've not put the word in quotes like you did. Feel proud of what you've accomplished. You're still the same gal you ever were. The fortunate thing is that you're still young enough to rebuild. But you can't cheat the grieving process. I'm sorry there have been so many nasty comments. People can be so unfathomably cruel.
Maybe you should buy some more tranquilizers (off the street), and wash them down with a bottle of cheap vodka. If that doesn't kill you, I'm sure your self-pity will find another way to get the job done. Don'tcha love Darwinism?
Hang in there, Alexandra -- you're going to get through this. I was sorry to see all of the negative posts that your first column attracted. Like you, I have the good fortune of having more than most, so I get little sympathy for having been laid off -- even though it hurts.Keep looking ahead and not back. Your future is brighter than you suspect.
It hurts to lose money--especially money you've earned with hard work and determination. Somehow, it's worse. My heart aches for you and others alike--whether they have 40 starched shirts or not (who cares!). The only thing that disturbs me however Penny, is that you live in NYC and you are picking up Dominos pizza. Granted it is cheap, but take it from a transplanted New Yorker who cannot get decent pizza in the South--get the good stuff. No matter how bad it gets, never settle for chain-store pizza. Hang in there and wear those starched white shirts with pride! The dry-cleaners can starch them for 99 cents. That's got to be cheaper than Yolanda.
I'm sorry that so many commenters previously gave you such a hard time, but it is difficult for those of us who don't even have a Xanax to rely on or health insurance to lose to feel sympathy in this difficult time. Some of us live paycheck to paycheck and scrape barely by, so hearing the luxuries you have to lose is more like a laundry list of decadence. I want to sympathize, really, but I suffer from anxiety myself, and I have to beat this whole thing without pills. So even though I started this comment intending to laud you and comfort you, I really can't. You may have worked hard, but you may not have worked smart.
A- This is great material. I love it and love anybody brave enough to come out of the closet right now about what we're all really afraid -- loosing the small graces in our little lives and what we will do to survive.Thanks!
PS - I am betting that you will get a huge book contract and then you can hire someone to get Madoff in prison. Fun!
What you pay in yearly real estate and school taxes would probably support a battered women's shelter, but it sounds like you're about to join the foreclosure club.
Sheeee's Baaaackkkkkk !!!!!!!!!!!
Well, I will say this for you, Ms. Money-Penney, you sure can't take a hint. Still that self-pitying picture, still this HORRIBLE title, still the same whining.
Perhaps it is generational. Are you not aware that there are millions of people in this world who have "made [their] goddamn money [themselves]"?? People who have raised families, worked three jobs, scrimped and saved and STILL do not live on Fifth avenue in an apartment with a WINDOWED kitchen?
It seems to me that life has served you a well-deserved cup of reality. And still, you are so entitled. Yes, you can dispute it, but you are. You are ENTITLED to a second free pizza for the price of one. And Dominoes, no less! Look, kids, she isnt even springing for Famous Original Ray's anymore! (By the way, most people entertaining themselves and their (ahem) consort would have ordered one pizza. You still don't get it. You still want the excess, only now, you want it for FREE, because after all, LOOK at you! You are no longer fabuloulsly wealthy!
Finally, I have still one thing to say. Maybe some day you will see why you are so loathed for this moneymaking venture ... this blog where you are seeking pity, assistance, sympathy and of course, money. It is ELEVEN degrees where you live today. If you bundle your frail, white-shirted frame into a cashmere sweater and designer overcoat, walk a few blocks from Fifth to Lexington and hop the subway, you can find her. She is there, huddled next to a shopping cart that contains all of her possessions. You cannot tell her gender, because she is hunched from away from you to protect herself from the bitterness of the wind. She slept there last night, on the subway grate, because it was warm. Going to a shelter is too scary, because she could be robbed or raped. Or maybe she could not get into a shelter. She is a bag lady. A real bag lady. A truly needy woman. I pray for her on these cold days. Why dont you toss her some leftover Dominoes and head down to your precious studio to weep over your losses some more.
You have obviously lost your mind. Domino's? No wonder you can't think clearly, you are eating junk.You call yourself a New Yorker? Please get out more and see the great city you still live in and don't remain so isolated. Ask "the consort" maybe he knows a decent pizza place.
I have been taken aback by the nastyness and/or righteousness of many of the comments to both of your postings. You have the makings of another book with all of this. God speed with your re-building.
Just because we don't sympathize doesn't mean we're being nasty. Its a little dose of perspective, that's all. You did have far to fall, having worked so hard and found so much success. The problem is, in your first column, it was mostly the material things you were crying over. Yes, to lose one's Independence is frightening, but to make a French laundry list of the uber expensive things you will now have to do without, as most of us have done our entire lives (even those of us who make over 150K) Its just hard to muster up sympathy for that. Go stay with your son. You earned a little TLC from a family member.
Hi to you. I must say, please stop reading the more insensitive comments. Those who feel jealousy and happy that you have lost your life savings are the more likely to write in and say so. I venture to say that the great majority feels very sad for you in this circumstance. I think among all the emotions you're feeling, you're probably in shock as well. I sincerely hope you keep on going forward, you have gifts to use and to give others. Our thoughts are with you and the other individuals and charities that were scammed by that MF. Stay strong!
Welcome to the world. We should not bust you for your success because you earned your "luxuries." On the other hand, it is difficult to feel sorry for you since you have a lived a life most people only get to watch on TV. The good news is the old cliche that "it will only make you stronger" is true. I too am an ironed white shirt addict and have dealt with the economic downturn by purchasing a nice iron and getting to it once a week. Kudos for your honesty. There has be a book in here somewhere.
On a more practical note.... the chlorine in city water will kill orchids... so like all living things orchids need filtered water to flourish.
Ug. I seriously hope this topic isn't going to be a regular for you.
When I read your first entry, I thought some of the more colorful comments were out of place. After all, you'd just been taken out at the knees by another person's greed and malice. Then, however, I noticed the title (Bag Lady? Really?) of your piece and realized that through this lose you had somehow begun to think of yourself as a some type of destitute homeless person. Are you aware that the signature picture for that piece of tripe shows you wearing a pearl necklace, pearl earrings and a cardigan draped over your shoulders in stereotypical country club fashion?
You are not homeless, in fact, you are home-plus, literally. You are, at worst, newly middle-class; and your piece reads with all the arrogance and facetiousness that would come with such a fall.
Dominoes is expensive? Really? Who knew that having someone else cook you hot food could bring the price up? Spare me.
Lady, find out how much a bundle of ramen costs, then come back and tell me again how poor you are.
Penny, you have accomplished so much in your life, I'm sure you will again. You are a winner and a fighter, and what other choice do you really have? You're not the only person I know who has lost everything to the MF. I'm praying for you all. The only thing that is certain is change
I not only sympathize, but empathize. As bad as things are (and I ain't lyin', they're bad), the MF cannot take away from you the prodigious internal resources you've shown all your life: your writing and artistic talents, your entrepenurial (sp) spirit, your guts. You're spilling it for all of us. I wish you only the best.
Hey Penny -
I find your blog all too real. I've been laid off for a year. I feel scared, exhausted, and full of anxiety about the future. Like you, I've always been a worker and never a complainer. I even had 3 jobs at the same time to put myself through college. Through incredibly hard work I was able to achieve financial and professional success. But the economy and corporate buyouts decimated my company and wiped out my division. Savings are dwindling and opportunities are few.
However, that being said... I think your situation is a hundred times worse than mine. I do believe your intelligence, creativity, tenaciousness and friends will all help you during this very very difficult time. I'm pulling for you too!
I am so sick of people criticizing this woman for having achieved a level of success and simultaneously denying her the right to feel violated by an experience that has robbed her of what she had earned. Clearly, many people of retirement age have seen their pensions and other savings obliterated lately, probably the worst financial violation imaginable, regardless of the numbers involved. Like many others, she earned what she had and saved what she earned. Loss is loss, no matter the amount.
Thank you.
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