In the original Elton John oversized glasses, a vintage girdle, fur and layers of distressed Dior sheer hose, the streets of New York City have become Goldie’s catwalk. Much as she loves to stand alone, she is happily not in Manhattan, because as she puts it, there is always someone crazier than her. A recent LA transplant, she is so smitten with her new ‘hood that if someone were to ask her before she got here where in the world she’d die to travel to, she would never have answered “Greece or Italy,” only New York. The Big Apple symbolizes freedom of art and culture for her and as long as she can imagine a future that involves her answering the door of a townhouse (rather than a house house) in a silk chiffon robe with marabou feathers, it doesn’t appear as though she will ever leave. Though Goldie is an image consultant, or in her words, “a punky, girly, feminine and strong businesswoman,” and not an actor, I am envisioning a Woody Allen movie about her. Even her name, given to her by friends at Burning Man, screams eccentric screen character, let alone the fact that she likes to appear nude when she isn’t. In fact, Goldie doesn’t like anything that is obvious, so her Chanel belt is turned upside down and her Issey Miyake overalls were once a skirt.
“Ladylike [and] hazardous” in the vein of Amy Winehouse is the term Goldie uses for her style since moving to NYC, with her beat-up ballet slippers and “ratty” thick black long hair. Still, this doesn’t negate how emotionally dreamy (like a true Pisces) and deeply optimistic she is. Goldie has been making wishes on 11:11 since she was a little girl. It was on 11/11 that her mother passed away and on 11/11 that she packed up on a whim to move across the country. To say that Goldie is positive is an understatement, and it is clear where her optimism comes from: “If someone were to say, ‘Goldie, here is one billion dollars if you can think of one time that your mother put her needs in front of yours or your sister’s,’ I would be out of luck.” She claims that her mother’s death has given her the feeling that she is never alone. Case in point: her Victorian-inspired Bernard Willhelm jacket was acquired on a trip to Europe that Goldie was taken on by a stranger whom she feels might have been her mother in some form. The woman was turning thirty, walked into the shop that Goldie was working in and spontaneously treated Goldie to a vacation – afterwards, she never saw her again. Of her Sonia Rykiel cream cardigan, Goldie says, “I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t love Clueless,” ironic, considering her skipping off to Paris, London and Spain with someone she didn’t know. It must have been 11/11.