The Glass Slipper

As the Jewish New Year approaches, I’ve made a decision: I’m going to take humor seriously. And you may be saying; “How can you talk about laughing when there’s a war, and conflict and hostages in tunnels?” And I hear that. AND I think laughter is holy and can exist alongside pain, trauma, crushing anxiety, all the things.

I followed two new and vastly different women’s accounts this week. Let’s start with @harabbanit_yemima. She talks about the word tzchok in Hebrew, which we usually translate as “laughter.” But: tzchok can also mean tze mehachok—breaking out of the rules you know. Laughter as a mechanism to step outside of your routine, loosen your grip, and free yourself from those self-imposed boxes we all live in. Even just for a moment. She makes the case, that being happy is not natural. It’s something we can-and should- light up for ourselves. She cites the ‘Ben Ish Chai’ who claims that when a woman laughs out loud once a day in her home, it brings showers of blessings. No idea about that one. But it can’t hurt.

And if laughter doesn’t come naturally to you—good news: you can work on it. It’s like going to the gym, but for your sense of humor. This resonates with me on a cellular level. For me, it means We get so wrapped up in the grind, in what’s “next” on the to-do list, that we forget to step outside those rules we’ve built for ourselves. Laughter is a reset button, a reminder that life isn’t all about deadlines and inboxes. And let’s be real for a second—no one remembers the days where everything went according to plan.

Like the time I went to pitch Chris Burch on investing in my Fashion brand. I’d planned everything down to the last detail—the outfit, the hair, the samples—everything was dialed in. My Bolt bus from Philly pulled up in midtown and out I trotted in to the February morning. Just a plucky little cluckie. My tights, shoes and case were 5 inches deep into the NYC slush puddle special.

Now, with minutes to spare, I run (hobble?) into DSW and grab the first pair of clearance heels I can find. Fast forward to me sitting in Chris’s immaculate office, trying to pull myself together on a plush pink carpet, dragging a sludgy sample case behind me. I launch into my pitch, feeling ready—and mid-sentence, Chris interrupts me.

“Who’s doing that shoe?” he asks, eyes locked on my feet.

I blink. “Uh, Vince Camuto? ” I mutter, totally thrown.

“We should be doing that shoe,” he says to his assistant. Who start furiously scribbling notes. Forget the brand, forget the samples—the guy was obsessed with my emergency heels.

I’d spent hours, maybe days, meticulously planning every detail of that pitch, but it was the unplanned shoe swap that became the focal point of the entire meeting.

What’s meant for you will find you, and what’s not will teach you a damn good lesson. (Paraphrasing @sophiaamoruso for that one.) Or in my case, a lesson in footwear.

In the spirit of the new year, I hope you find something to laugh about today. And if you don’t, please go look for it.

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