Skip links

Meet Ricki

As a clown, Ricki learned you gain the freedom to tap into a part of yourself that you typically keep hidden.

Her Story

Ricki has learned that she cannot discover the person she aspires to be, if she holds on to the person she was. But this wasn’t always so.

In her mid-30s, after years of keeping her “self” silent, she embarked on a journey to find her voice. Through years of therapy and transformational programs, she learned that our view of the world is colored by our unique perspectives. Each one of our interpretations is correct but only as viewed through the lens of our own personal histories. As such, our truth is really not THE truth, it is just the version that we see. We begin creating these versions of “truth” in our childhood, generating ever-more pervasive tapes in our heads of what we believe to be true … unless and until we allow in another perspective. Ricki learned that even though we may know that what we are carrying around no longer serves us, it is nonetheless more comfortable to hang on to it anyway. How scary is it to let go, and create a new version of who you want to be….? 

“Create that which wouldn’t have happened anyway,” shared Ricki.

In 1986, Ricki signed up for a Clown class at her local community college. She was required to create a unique face and character, based on one of three types of clowns in the clown hierarchy. At the top is the white-faced clown, the prim and proper ringleader. At the bottom is the sad Tramp, the brunt of all the jokes. And in the middle is the Auguste, the slapstick clown. As a clown, Ricki learned you gain the freedom to tap into a part of yourself that you typically keep hidden, and she knew that she was destined for the Auguste face. She relished the opportunity to be silly and revisit the innocence of her 4-year-old self. A 4-year-old can say or do anything without fear of retribution, she can be outrageous without embarrassment, she is free from societal judgment, mores, and criticism. She. Just. Is.

So, Rockets was born. While Ricki was very professional and respectful in her everyday life and career, Rockets was carefree and innocent. Rockets did what adults wish they could do, but do not because their “self” becomes judgmental: happily waving and smiling at everyone she met, eliciting waves and smiles in return; stopping to marvel – in front of an audience  – at the revolving door that everyone else took for granted; giving voice to what she honestly thought, instead of what convention expected her to say.  Rockets was Ricki’s uninhibited, playful, self.

Nearly 30 years later, Ricki had an opportunity to rekindle the freedom of Rockets through improvisational coursework. By engaging in the fundamental principle of “yes, and…” she learned to be present, to trust the process and surrender to the journey. Being unencumbered by expectation gave her permission to NOT know, to trust that the outcome, with its unforeseen twists and turns, would work out just the way it was supposed to. She learned to celebrate failure and to navigate life free from agendas. She learned to create that which wouldn’t have happened anyway, to be the person she was before she grew up to become …the person she is. Ricki rediscovered her truth through a reborn Rockets.

How wonderful would it be if we all stood in our “clown?”

“When women come together to inspire and empower each other, we are saying that the façade doesn’t work for us anymore … that by lifting the veil of correctness and secrecy to lay bare our truth underneath, we can begin to connect in ways that grow stronger and richer each time we say “yes” to what makes us human.”

How does the Curve make you feel in your body?

Because I have a small waist and hips/butt that are “womanly,” I have never found a pair of jeans that flatter my shape. That changed when I got my Laurie Felt Silky Curve Boot-Cut denim jeans. As soon as I put them on, I knew I had found THE pair of jeans for me. They made me feel .. sexy. The material was already soft, and didn’t need to be broken in with numerous washes. The waist came up high enough and was wide enough that it didn’t cut into my hips or gap in the back. The jeans hugged me in the right places, didn’t bag under my derrière or at my knees, and the boot cut flared out just enough to balance my hips. I would never have imagined that there would ever be a pair of jeans that I felt good in, and the Curve jeans happily proved me wrong. 

What does an Open Letter to a Woman’s Body mean to you?

I’ve had the same shape body since I was 14 years old. When I was younger, my Mom said that having larger hips would make it easier to have children. Sadly, I never found out. Even as an adult with 66 years of living in this body, it’s difficult not to compare my figure with other more proportioned and younger “models,” especially when it seems that 99% of clothes are made for those women. While I know in my heart that’s not true, the dejection of trying on clothes that don’t fit says otherwise. So this Open Letter to a Woman’s Body, which embraces the curves that G-d gives us, unexpectedly made me cry. Cry, because what I’ve seen as a detriment, the letter to “my” body sees as beauty. Cry because what I’ve wanted to hide, the letter wants me to be proud of. Cry, because it says my body, and my curves, are more than good enough, just the way they are. It’s a letter I never could have written to myself, and one that I’ve re-read over and over again.

Why is it important that we come together, as women, to inspire and empower one other to Stand In Our Curves?

As women, we tend to be especially hard on ourselves. Growing up we are told not be too bold, too aggressive, too visible, too honest. We’ve been cautioned against asking for what we want, for what we deserve. We’ve nonetheless fought for having it all, been conditioned to think we can balance it all, and then been rudely surprised when our intent does not match reality. When women come together to inspire and empower each other, whether in our “curves” or otherwise, we are saying that the façade doesn’t work for us anymore … that by lifting the veil of correctness and secrecy to lay bare our truth underneath, we can begin to connect in ways that grow stronger and richer each time we say “yes” to what makes us human. And in our humanness lies our power. The power of many, from the power of One.

Create that which wouldn’t have happened anyway,” said Ricki.