My story

My Second Dolly Mama

Magic Markers & Missed Chances

The very first Dolly Mama was born with magic markers and a whole lot of nerve.
Originally, she was meant to be a greeting card. I drew 12 Dolly Mamas using my daughter’s magic markers and packed them up for the Stationery Show at the Javits Center in NYC. I was on a mission to find a company to license with.

In my perfect world, that company was Nobleworks. Their cards were hilarious, bold, and unapologetically funny… basically everything I loved. I walked straight toward their booth… and then kept walking right past it. 😬
Why? Let’s just say my inner critic was louder than my courage, and I decided I wasn’t “good enough” to show them my drawings.

Plot twist: years later, I became friends with Nobleworks’ owner, Ron.
Life has a funny way of circling back — especially when Dolly Mamas are involved.

The beginning

Self Sitter became a thing

Originally, I thought they’d live on paper as greeting cards. But instead of printing them, I had a slightly crazy idea… what if I made them out of metal and gave them a place to sit?

So I skipped the card rack altogether and went straight to my local hardware store. I bought roof flashing, took it home, and started cutting and shaping it myself. No fancy plan. Just intuition, curiosity, and a lot of trial and error.

That’s how the first metal Dolly Mamas were born — and how they became the very first shelf sitters. They weren’t meant to hang quietly on a wall. They wanted to perch, dangle their legs, and tell it like it is.

Turns out, metal suited them just fine.

My first wholesale craft booth

I'm in the show!

You couldn’t just sign up — you had to apply and be chosen. When the acceptance letter arrived in the mail, I had a full-on Steve Martin in The Jerk moment. “I’m somebody now!”

Then came the actual show in Philly… and reality set in fast.

This was my very first show and I was terrified. So terrified that I scared the buyers away. Every time someone walked past without stopping, I took it personally. If they didn’t like my work, I decided it meant they didn’t like me.

Dreams do come true!

Heading to the NY Gift Show

This photo was taken in my old farmhouse — and these metal Dolly Mamas were the very first ones headed to the New York Gift Show.
At the show, our booth was so busy that buyers were filling out their own order forms. (That’s how you know it’s real.) And right in the middle of that beautiful chaos, Silvestri found me. At the time, they were a huge name in the gift world . They asked if I wanted to license the Dolly Mamas.

Did I totally understand what that meant? Not really.
But then they said the words every tired, paint-covered artist dreams of hearing:
“You only have to make one of each.”

Dolly Mama World

Silvestri Showroom

Then came the Atlanta Gift Market — and the Dolly Mamas officially had their moment.
This was my first show with Silvestri, and my dear friend Ronnie — ridiculously talented and endlessly creative — designed the most incredible showroom for them. It literally felt like I stepped into Dolly Mama’s world.

And because subtle has never been my thing, I showed up dressed as a Dolly Mama myself. Pink hair. High heels. Tutu. Black-and-white stockings. All of it.
Oh, did we have fun!

It was surreal in the best possible way. Almost overnight, my life changed.
I became famous in a very small, very specific world — the gift industry. People wanted my autograph. They wanted to buy me drinks. They wanted to talk, laugh, and be part of whatever this Dolly Mama thing was.

That show marked a turning point.
What started as an idea scribbled in a newspaper had become a full-blown moment — and there was no going back.

Where do I sign?

Dolly Mama sightings

During my years working with Silvestri, I traveled all over the country doing in-store art signings for gift shops that carried the Dolly Mamas. These signings weren’t just about selling art — they were about connection, laughter, and celebrating creativity.  The store owners and their employees would dress up as their favorite Dolly Mama. How cool is that?  (I went more generic Dolly Mama drag queen.) 🤣 Honestly, it was one of the best times of my life.

Greeting cards? Yes please.

The Licensing Show

When licensing took off, I followed it straight to the Licensing Show — and that’s where Pictura found me.
They became my greeting card and paper goods partner, and suddenly Dolly Mamas were everywhere.

Greeting cards. Notepads. Purses. Handbag mirrors. Sticky notes.
Bobbleheads.
Yes… I really did say bobbleheads.

If Pictura could slap a Dolly Mama on it, it sold — and we all laughed our way through those years. It was creative, chaotic, and wildly fun. Ideas turned into products, products turned into money, and for a while, it felt like the Dolly Mamas could do no wrong.

Those were good times.
The kind you don’t forget — glittery, loud, and full of possibility.

Now we're having fun!

Bradford Collectibles

This Dolly Mama came from the Bradford Collection — and this was a BIG one.
They became my next major license, and once again, the Dolly Mamas took on a whole new life.

Bradford turned them into resin ornaments, figurines, clocks, bracelets, sweatshirts… You name it. And just like before, whatever they slapped a Dolly Mama onto seemed to sell. It was kind of unbelievable — and incredibly fun.

At that point, the pattern was clear.
These quirky, long-limbed women weren’t just characters anymore — they were connecting with people in a real way. They made people laugh, nod, feel seen… and apparently, open their wallets. I couldn’t believe it myself. 

More products. More momentum. More proof that this wild idea had legs — long, skinny, polka-dotted or striped legs.

Kept me in stitches!

QVC at 1am. What could go wrong?

Next came Janlynn — and I officially died and went to creative heaven.
They licensed the Dolly Mamas for cross-stitch kits and rubber stamps that sold at Michaels.  My favorite place to craft shop!

Then Janlynn did something truly wild — they got me on QVC.
At 1:00 in the morning.
Selling cross-stitch kits.

I had absolutely no idea what cross-stitch was.

Add to that the fact that I was in the middle of a divorce and more than a little nervous. I decided a couple of vodka-and-seltzers might calm my nerves. Instead, they made me sleepy… so I countered with three cups of coffee.

Let’s just say it was… memorable.

I’m endlessly grateful this all happened before cell phone cameras and social media. But somehow, through the nerves, the caffeine, and the chaos, the Dolly Mamas sold — and another impossible moment became part of the story.

My visions came to life

Ceramic License

Next came Cosmo / Appletree — and the Dolly Mamas went ceramic.
I would draw a one-dimensional Dolly Mama — a cake plate, teapot, cookie jar, mug, whatever popped into my head — and then… wait.

About a year later, boxes would magically show up at my doorstep filled with finished samples. By then, I had completely forgotten what I’d designed, so opening them felt like Christmas morning… for a Jewish girl.

Every piece was a surprise. Familiar, but new. Flat drawings turned into glossy, dimensional, hold-it-in-your-hands magic. It was one of those moments where you realize your ideas are officially living lives of their own.

Still blows my mind.

I made the cover!

Where Women Create

Somehow, I landed on the cover of Where Women Create.
This was during my full-on Shabby Chic phase — chandeliers, white furniture, pretty chaos everywhere. I also tend to go through studios the way most people change their underwear, so this one was very much a moment in time.Now let’s talk about what I was wearing.
A black dress. Fishnet stockings. And a pink feathery thing attached to my waist.Honestly… what was I thinking?Do you really believe that’s how I show up to work every day? Because I don’t.
Most days I’m in my pajamas, coffee in hand, hair doing whatever it wants.Still, this photo makes me laugh every single time I see it. It’s a snapshot of a phase, a moment, and a reminder that even when things look perfectly styled on the outside, the real magic usually happens in slippers.

The funny girl experiment

Retail? What was I thinking?

 I opened a store on a whim called Funny Girl. (Formerly known as Artsy Fartsy) I had to change it because the town was not amused by my humor.

I decided I wanted to see what life was like on the other side of the gift world — I figured it would be fun. You know… buying fabulous things at wholesale, chatting with customers, playing shop owner.

Between you and me?
I was terrible at it.

I felt guilty charging people for my work. I mostly just wanted to decorate the store window like Rhoda on The Mary Tyler Moore Show. And the idea of having to be there every single day? Not my dream. 

Lesson learned: I love creating.
I love designing.
I do not love retail.

And that was another very important realization on this wild, creative road.

More more license please

The tea towel era

CJ Bella reached out to ask if I’d be interested in licensing Dolly Mamas for their tea towel and coaster line. I said yes—and just like that, a beautiful relationship was born.

Things took off fast. Very fast. Before I knew it, I was packing my bags and heading back to the Atlanta Gift Show.

Over the years, I created more Dolly Mamas with CJ Bella than with anyone else. If there was a reason to celebrate (or survive it), there was a Dolly Mama for that.

I also designed an entirely different Christmas and holiday watercolor collection for them—so far from my usual style, you’d never guess it was mine. I love a good challenge.

Together, we grew their business and mine one laugh at a time. 

Art Doll Quarterly

Say yes, then panic

Somewhere along the way, I found myself in Cloth Doll Magazine.
I had sent photos of my jewelry to Stampington & Company, and somehow — through the magic of the Universe — a pillow I made just for myself ended up catching the eye of Art Doll Quarterly. My guess, the pillow was in one of the jewelry shots.

Next thing I knew, they asked if I’d like to be featured in the magazine… and if I could write an instructional article about myself and how to make the pillow.

Small problem.
I had absolutely no memory of how I made it.

But I said yes anyway.

I figured it out as I went (as one does), wrote the article, and just like that, I found myself in one of my all-time favorite magazines. Another unexpected door opened — proof that sometimes you don’t need a plan… just the willingness to say yes and figure it out later.

Art & Anxiety

Ready, Set, Film

Shahar from Curious Mondo reached out about doing an art video — and I said yes.
This was during Covid, so there was one small detail: I had to film it myself. Cue immediate panic.

I am not what you would call “tech savvy.” My thumb makes a guest appearance in most of my photos, so the idea of filming a full art video felt… ambitious. But honestly, it’s not like I was doing anything else at the time besides going down the rabbit hole and overanalyzing how I might have screwed up my entire life. So what the hell.

The camera guy kindly gave me one simple piece of advice: keep the camera facing down and just film your hands while you create. Easy enough.

Except I’m pretty sure I also filmed about four hours of my cleavage.

Somehow, it all worked out. The video got made, I survived the tech, and once again I proved to myself that saying yes — even when you have no idea what you’re doing — usually leads somewhere interesting.

And occasionally embarrassing.

Stopped talking. Started writing.

I finally wrote my book

-If you’re starting over after a breakup or divorce. 

-Reinventing your life or business

-An artist

-Dating again. 

-You just need a really good laugh.  

 I promise this book will make you feel seen, understood, and a little less alone.

PS…It’s not about Menopause….It’s “Men” O’ Pause". I really need to change the book title! 🤣