Gratitude: The Bridge connecting my past to my present

January 4, 2016 January 5, 2016

Gratitude: The Bridge connecting my past to my present

Hello New Year, Hello Dear friends!

Another new year is upon us and if you’re thinking what I am thinking – you’re probably wondering where the time has gone. As busy as life is and how hectic the end of the year always seems to be – I still wind it down and take some time for just me and practice gratitude. This year, my “self-time,” didn’t happen until after the New Year celebrations. It took a couple of days to get my house back in order and another night and day to…(as the medical intuitive teacher Caroline Mysse would say, ) “call my energy back.”

I found myself thinking “I have so much work to catch up on now that the holidays are over. How am I ever going to get it all done?” I did the things that needed to be done around Christmas while fighting the nasty cold I picked up on my recent trip abroad. Yet, somehow I still felt as if I didn’t do enough. If I didn’t get my cards out, or get the right gift for someone, or put up my Christmas lights this year…then I thought I must not be up to par. It’s no wonder I woke up grumpy on Sunday morning January 3rd looking for things to blame my mood on. What a self defeating pattern I was allowing myself to run. So, I called my energy back!

I decided to get back into my own groove, return to myself and give myself the gift of time. I started my new year day off with a gentle prayer and meditation. Fortunately, I received some new meditations as a gift from from my professor’s at the University of Santa Monica. Each year the professors and staff at USM invite all the volunteers to a holiday luncheon and our professor’s, Drs. Ron and Mary Hulnick, give us something special in gratitude for the time we give them in service to the university. This year they recorded a beautiful series of prayers and meditations. The one I chose to listen to on this day was the meditation on gratitude.

Mary, in her soft, nurturing voice, guides us to take a moment and give thanks for the obvious things in life. Gratitude for the gift of life itself, thanks for the awareness of her open heart, for the opportunity to be of service, to share her blessings with others, and for the knowledge that we are all divine, knowing that we always have a choice on how we want to be in our lives. During this meditation I allow the things Mary offers in gratitude to resonate inside of me – then Mary leaves open space in the meditation so I may identify the things I am grateful for too. Mary reminds me that this practice helps pull me up and out of the doldrums, the bad mood, and negative voices in my head. It’s a time to re-member myself to my-Self. In other words, to put myself back together as a whole. I am so grateful – if only for that little piece of it, and I want to write it down.

I take my little “gratitude book” with the Zebra print cover that Dr. Bonnie Paul, (co-founder of the non-profit organization “Freedom to Choose”) gave me one day out of the blue. “I saw this book cover and it reminded me of you,” said Bonnie. Freedom to Choose is the team I’ve traveled to the Valley State Prison and California Correction Facility for Women with four times a year for the past 8 years. We serve to help heal the inmates who are serving life sentences for mistakes they have made, or circumstances they found themselves in that may have been out of their control. As I write the things I am grateful for – I add this little book, the woman who gave it to me, and all the inmates I have connected with to my gratitude list. Each time I do this practice I find more things to be grateful for. When I am done – as Mary predicted – I feel SO much better because my heart opens up again and there’s room to see the beauty of life. It’s like pulling back the curtains and letting the sun shine in.

As most of you who have been following my blogs and posts already know, I am embarking on some exciting and challenging career projects. Once again I am following my dreams, this time I have called myself forward using all my skills, talents and life experiences in the world of fashion as a designer in my own right. I’m getting ready to launch my own brand fashion apparel line, and also as a producer, creating a “fashion film” slated to have its “world premier” at the La Jolla International Fashion Film Festival in July 2016. There are crucial deadlines to meet as well as the funds I need to raise to bring this all into fruition. So you can imagine the work I have on my desk right now as my illustrious Siren Star team of lovely, earth angels help me create an Indie-Go-Go fundraiser that will be launched in mid January. My hat is off to these ladies, Cindy, Laura, Virginia and Noe, who’ve been working on this for the past two months! I am so grateful for earth angels.

Meanwhile, my dream is an 18 hour a day – 7 day-a-week dream, including time I spend on all the other responsibilities I have to take care of – one of which has become carrying on the legacy of my former fiancé, our dearly beloved Steve Clark.

Silly Steve Clark with my friend Shawn

Steve Clark Gratitude for Sheffield City Center 1985

This Friday, July 8^thmarks the 25^th year of his passing and of course I could not let this significant passage of time just go by without a special treat.

In December – after shooting scenes for the fashion film Skin On Skin – Peau sur Peay in Paris I returned to visit Steve’s grave at Wisewood cemetery in Sheffield, England. It was my intention to have a gathering and film at least something on my iPhone with Steve’s loyal friends and fans to share with those of you who could not travel the distance. However, as English weather would have it, it poured rain while the winds whipped and howled over the Yorkshire dales. It was impossible to hold the umbrella, much less keep my camera steady. Even so, we braved the moist and misty weather and held hands around his grave in prayer sending all of our love and yours to his memory. I took what film I could and then we all went over to the Admiral Rodney Pub (where Steve and I used to go) and raise a pint for Steve. However, we were all so cold and wet we decided on hot apple cider and coca –colas for the “tea totallers’.” Times have changed and not one of us had a proper drink! It made me wonder if Steve would have been a tea totaller by this time too?

Gratitude for Steve Clark friends and fans everywhere!

We sat by the fireplace for a couple of hours as Mick and Andrew shared their personal memories of Steve and how much they loved him. Andrew worked as a lathe operator alongside Steve, and Mick lived around the corner. Shannon, Lorraine Clark’s eight-year-old daughter, gave me a handmade paper snowflake on behalf of Steve – and sat snuggled up in my arms. Her mum Lorraine is a big fan of the band and Steve – and her daddy Paul, had driven them over an hour and a half in the rain from Doncaster to Sheffield supporting them in their love for Steve.

Gratitude for Mick and Andrew friends of Steve Clark

Later a new friend named Rob dropped in to share his story about being at the very first Def Leppard gig ever at a high school in Sheffield! His wife Ann told me her husband (of 20+ years)“claim to fame” has always been that story. Thank goodness he showed up because at that point I could feel a sore throat coming on from the lousy weather and I needed to get some fresh ginger and cayenne pepper to ward off the first tingly signs of a cold. Rob drove me around Sheffield City center in search of the ingredients for my witch’s brew and then back to the Novotel where I swallowed the hot tea potion and put myself immediately to bed. Once there, I wrapped my throat up with the Clark Clan tartan cashmere scarf from Beverly Knight sent (via Andrew) from Edinburgh, Scotland.

Steve Clark's grave at Wisewood Cemetary

Gratitude fro Steve Clark at his grave at Wisewood Cemetary

Gratitude Bridging my past to my present

One more tid bit…

While I was in Paris I was retracing the footsteps of a young girl who had a dream to be a model and walk the runways of the world. The director Robert E. Ball Jr. decided we should go and film that young girl as she was back then going to work in the “cabine” at the House of Chanel where she got her first break from designer Karl Lagerfeld as his muse…While we were shooting the scene I kept asking God to use me as a channel in this film to inspire people to follow their dreams too…I said “show me what to do father-mother God, let me be a channel for you…” Then the rain began to fall on our film set – right there on the street outside Chanel – but we kept shooting anyway. Poor Mr. Ball with his skinny brim hat on top of his camera to shield it from the rain…me wrapped up in my 80’s fashions and who comes walking down the street but Marianne Williamson!

Marianne Williamson, Lorelei Shellist, India, at Chanel in Paris

Gratitude for Marianne Williamson, me and India, at Chanel in Paris

If you read my book Runway RunAway, you’ll remember Marianne and I met in 1988 in her early days speaking about “A Course in Miracles.” We found ourselves sharing an apartment of a mutual friend of ours in NCY during a trying time for me. Marianne invited me to see her speak that night at a nearby church on Central Park West. I was captivated at the abundance of enlightening information coming out of her mouth. Marianne spoke for over two hours – non-stop – inspiring people to recognize the miracles in their lives, and to shift our perceptions from fear to love. I was riveted, delighted, enthused, and wondering how did she do that?

The next morning in the kitchen I said… “Marianne, you were amazing, how do you memorize all that stuff?” Marianne chuckled at my naivety and innocence and said, “Honey, I don’t memorize anything. I meditate, I ask God to be his channel and use me as her voice. I am just a messenger and I say whatever comes through me.” I was stunned…this was one of the biggest “aha” moments of my life. I never forgot that lesson in the kitchen from Marianne.

That day in December on the Rue Cambon I recognized the metaphor- I looked up at the CHANEL sign above our heads and thought, “really God, so this how you do it!” I felt God chuckle …this very moment in time represented the bridge from where I was to where I am now – still learning – still creating – still following my dreams …

I am grateful for you. Grateful for your support in my ventures, my wild and wonderful dreams. You give me energy and inspiration and I intend to give it back to you. My art is my way of gifting you with beauty, fashion, and the inspiration to continue to follow your dreams too. Whatever they may be, they are yours and yours alone. When we follow our dreams our hearts expand, because it is in the pursuit of our our dreams that we stretch ourselves and learn who we are… Magnificent! As the gifted author and speaker Marianne Williamson would say, “we are powerful beyond measure.”

Chanel – Channel…Chuckle…life is but a dream.

Love and Gratitude 2016

Lorelei Shellist

PS: Steve Clark Friends and Fans: Please download the Periscope App to join the Live Tribute Q & A on January 8^th 2016 – 3 PM Pacific Time- 5 PM Central Time – 6 PM Eastern Time -EUROPE 10 PM Paris time and 11 PM UK time. I will be doing a Q & A sent over to me by Beverly Knight – creator and moderator of the http://www.steveclarkguitar.com website.

Gratitude for Phil Collen, Steve Clark, Lorelei Shellist, Valerie Mazzonelli,

Runway Runaway Fashion: My Secret Dream designed to amuse you!

October 28, 2015 September 24, 2020

Runway Runaway Fashion:

My Secret Dream designed to amuse you!

If you had a secret dream that you’d been working towards for years – that you didn’t even know you had – and your dream became a reality, would you shout it out loud from the top of the Eiffel tower – or whisper it quietly from your ashram?

As I breathe in courage and exhale enthusiasm it gives me pleasure to share some exciting dreams with you. You may already know that I have been involved in the fashion industry for most of my life. My self penned book Runway RunAway: A Backstage Pass to Fashion, Romance & Rock ‘n Roll illustrated the true story of neglected child turned teenage runaway who follows her dreams to become an international model, eventually finding herself in the process. I went from the streets of Los Angeles a teenage waitress, to the catwalks of Paris, Milan, Rome, Tokyo and New York, working as a model/muse to Lagerfeld at Chanel, YSL, Christian LaCroix, Geoffrey Beene, Bob Mackie and more…

My story goes on to share about the doomed love my life; my then fiancé Steve Clark, lead guitar player and masterful songwriter of the multi-platinum selling rock band, Def Leppard. Ultimately fleeing and finding the strength to save myself, I shared the candid and blatant truth of how I survived the greatest loss in my life, the aftermath and the determination to not only survive, but to heal my-self, and help others.

Runway RunAway Fashion. I don’t know how I became a “muse” to some of fashion designers of our time, or, how I managed to “amuse” my musical lovers in so much as to inspire the writings of a few classic rock ballads…some of which are chapter titles in my book. But I am beginning to understand why…

Model Lorelei at 16

My style of dress growing up around Pacific Palisades and Topanga Beach and consisted mostly of bikini’s – halter tops- flip flops- and Hawaiian shirts tied up around my waist. What’s now called branded as “surf and skate culture fashion” we found in 2^nd hand stores like the Aardvark’s Odd Ark in Venice, California. My friends and I followed the bands that played tribute to the Rolling Stones and Led Zepplin. I liked to dress like Robert Plant in bell bottom jeans and shirts tied up around my waist with a little Mick Jagger’s sparkle style scarves thrown in for pizzazz.

Robert Plant Hip Fashion

My high-school sweetheart was the fashionable Brian Ray. He played a gold Les Paul and wore snakeskin boots. Back then he was just a local guitar star…today he plays guitar and bass in Paul McCartney’s band. We broke up in his British MGBGT, but to this day I’ll never forget those snakeskin boots.

Fast forward. I’m living in Milan at age 19 running around on “go-sees” in in spike heels on cobblestone streets, meeting the designers for the runway shows taught me everything I needed to know about 1^st impressions. A naïve girl standing in front of the gatekeepers to Valentino, Armani, or Moschino has an awful lot to learn. I tried my best to express my individual style while still looking graceful and cutting edge. Even if I didn’t know what cutting edge was- I picked up on all the clues that those designers would leave around like the crumbs thrown to pigeons’ in the Piazza San Marco.

In Paris at age 20 the competition was fierce. Getting into the doors of Yves Saint Laurent or Dior was next to impossible if you didn’t have someone behind you pushing you through them. I thought I knew how to dress until my German boyfriend told me I didn’t. He took me shopping in St. Germaine to a boutique of “a friend.” He styled me and dressed me and when they totaled the tab for clothes at the register – he left me with the bill of over 5000 francs- the equivalent of $1000. US at the time. I loved the clothes so I put them on hold and found a way to pay for them myself. I was secretly mad at him- but he must’ve known something. My style of dress just wasn’t up to par for Paris and it was his way of telling me. He hung out with Vivienne Westwood and Malcom McLaren- and what an education in fashion I got from those two. The good news was that I did start getting past the doors of those infamous gatekeepers.

I soaked up everything I could about fashion and design while being nipped and tucked with needles, threads and straight pins by the geniuses themselves.

During my tenure at YSL I witnessed the brilliance of not only the designer Monsieur Saint Laurent himself, but his gifted assistants too. I gasped for air every time LouLou De La Falaise cinched a belt around my waist- and tiptoed out of the studio holding back a formal curtsy under the glaring eyes of Madame Munoz- Yves, right hand madwoman.

Paradoxically over at La Maison de Chanel I was delighted whenever Keiser Karl’s young jewelry designer Victoire de Castellane draped me in jewels, or when Lagerfeld’s chief design assistant Gilles Du Four wrapped a stole around my shoulder’s- cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. And at Ungaro- well, that was an education in itself- but more on how to “show” how to “stand” and how to “present” Emanuel’s priceless creations under the critical eye of the master himself. And critical he was.

Still, under the brilliant tutelage of team LouLou De La Falaise – Meister Lagerfeld – Vivienne Westwood – Georgio Armani – Valentino –Yves Saint Laurent – Lecoanet Hemant -Guy Laroche – …oh, there others – many others…I expanded in beauty and wisdom unknowingly, like a schoolgirl in the front row of the class – I noted them all.

The discipline and direction I received contracted as model for those iconic houses aligned me with opportunities all over the world. They softened my feathers and like an awkward gangly pelican I turned into a swan. My presence on the runway became more fluid and graceful and so I began to fly. I followed the collections from Milan to London to Paris- to New York – to Tokyo. When my contracts in the off-seasons completed I would fly to Dusseldorf- Spain- and Dublin to show for the designers there. And on one snowy December night in walked the love of my life, Steve Clark. A young, timid, unassuming rock star who’d also been living out of a suitcase. I’d met my match.

The travel in my life doubled as the two of us hopped planes – trains and – you know the drill, to be at each other’s side. When we came together on our days off often we would shop. Strolling into Cartier in Place du Vendome, two twenty-some-things, skinny as rails, Steve with his long blonde hair, me with my blood red lipstick, eyeballing the big glass cases filled with sparkling jewels. The hawk-eyed salesmen would usher us toward the exit until Steve would plop down his gold American express card and say, “I’ll ‘ave that,”- In one instance pointing to a Cartier panther ring from the Duchess of Windsor collection and placing it on my finger. Amazing how perceptions change when money exchanges hands. Then we would celebrate over vodka and caviar and talk about the stage clothes he was dreaming about wearing on the next tour.

Back then stylists were few- we didn’t know any so we styled ourselves.

Steve bought me a sewing machine and I collected accessories and trinkets like flags, polka dots and studs, while following the runway collections around the world. I put my foot on the pedal of my sewing machine like a blindfolded race car driver making jackets, belts, and patched up jeans for Steve to wear onstage during the Hysteria World Tour.

Blonde & Black Beauty wearing my Flag Jacket

He loved my designs and my wardrobe. Often I would come across a newspaper photo of Steve taken while he was on tour wearing one of my blouses. In fact, Steve became the most photographed member of the band whose biggest radio hit back then was called “Photograph.” I became his personal designer, stylist, and spiritual confidant. Steve was curious about the occult and the deeper meanings of life. I had always been a soul searcher and inner explorer so our inner-worlds dovetailed when our outer-worlds failed to keep us grounded and the reality of living our dreams became more tense and real.

I have always felt my connection with the greater intelligence, or, as I like to call it, “the cosmic muse.” There behind the veil is the cast of characters – the collective unconscious – the “archetypical dream team” that is apart of who I am. It is that muse who inspires me to continue to follow my own heartfelt dreams and to inspire, uplift, and motivate others to do the same. The muse dresses me and it dresses you. My dream dressing muses take on lives of their own and often they propel at a rate I would never expect. That’s why my first dream has led to another, and another, and another…like a puff white snowball catching speed. The force of this muse is magical, mysterious and magnificent. Runway Runaway fashion… my secret dream is designed to amuse you!

What secret dreams amuse you?

Will you shout them out loud or keep them a secret too?

Follow your heart – Never give up and…

“Don’t let your dreams runaway from you!”

xo Lorelei