Every Day I'm Hustling Page 4
I realized I loved working and being a provider when I came home. Every single paycheck brought me closer to California, the land of my heroes.
* * *
Okay, I want you to do something for me. Think about the people who inspire you. Your fantasy mentors like Pam and Diana. The folks who are living the dream you want or who have the qualities you would like to present in tough situations. They could be famous, or they could be the owner of the company where you work. But they’re people you’d love to meet for a coffee—or margaritas—just so you can get their advice.
I’ll tell you the people that I find myself thinking of a lot lately: Michelle Obama, Sophia Loren, Diahann Carroll, and Tina Turner. I admire strong women, obviously. And I especially draw on the experiences of women whose careers expanded over a long time. These women looked at what worked and what didn’t work for them, and they continued to flourish. They embody my motto: Don’t get older, get fucking better.
I thought of Michelle and Diahann when I was on Celebrity Apprentice, having a boardroom confrontation with a lesser woman. I called upon the spirits of these great women, trying to embody their grace and directness. And do you know what happened? Right after it aired I got a call from Lee Daniels, the brilliant director and creator of Empire, the biggest show on TV. He saw that Michelle and Diahann in me and wanted it for his show.
So thank you, spirit squad, for backing me up. They helped me tell that toxic trick to keep it moving and got me one of my favorite gigs, Empire. And I got to work with one of my sister girls, Taraji P. Henson. I am so proud of her journey, and I was touched to find out that I had once been part of her imaginary squad, in the same way that Pam Grier was for me. “I watched Vivica before I even got into the business,” she told Entertainment Weekly when Empire announced I was joining the cast. “And she’s always been one that I’ve looked up to, like, ‘God, I want to be able to do what she does.’ So, to be able to work with the person who you’ve admired for so long, it’s just mind-blowing.” I’m quoting that article not to brag—okay, I let it go on—but to show you that everyone, even the incredibly gifted Taraji P. Henson, can benefit from finding a role model and saying, I want to do what she does. Let me do the work.
* * *
For practical purposes, it’s important to reach out to mentors in real life. One of the people I was desperate to work with coming up was Queen Latifah. Getting to be with her on the set of Set It Off was such a learning experience. Here she had this phenomenal rap career, and then managed to become the star anchor of a sitcom I loved, Living Single. And then she bursts out of that box to be a movie star. We actually had to map our production Wednesday through Sunday to get around Latifah’s schedule. But she was 100 percent committed. She would be asleep in her makeup chair because of it, getting cornrows. I was like, This girl is even multi-tasking sleep! Watching her helped me define what was possible—and smart—in not being limited or typecast.
Another mentor for me has been Sean “P. Diddy” Combs. He’ll always be Puffy to me. Talk about an entrepreneur spirit. Hanging out with him, I soaked in so much knowledge about branding and diversifying. Yes, he was a rapper and producer. But that was only the way in the door. He would tell me about clothing lines, liquors, and colognes. He wasn’t simply helping to sell someone’s project. He was producing the product and employing people while still staying true to his fan base. That’s how you become the boss.
I took their lessons to heart. I sing, I act, I dance, and I will always love entertainment. But my true brand is quality. Whether they’re buying something from the Vivica Fox Hair Collection or selecting an item from my clothing line, I want people to be as satisfied as they are in a kick-ass performance. The biggest takeaway from Puffy as an entrepreneur is that sleep is optional. Work hard, sleep later.
So invite people you’d like to meet to join your squad of supporters and mentors. Don’t be afraid to contact people who are successes in the field you want to excel in. Trust, they are proud of what they’ve achieved and they want to share how tough it was—and that last part will give you an advantage when you face those same obstacles. Someone might advise you to get a specific license it took them years to figure out they needed, or to set up a credit card payment system for clients so you’re not chasing checks later. Boom—you learned their lessons at no cost to you.
Think big, too. Go after leaders in your field. You want greats like Queen Latifah and Puffy. Don’t class yourself down and talk to the assistant’s assistant out of fear that you’re not worthy of someone’s time. You damn sure are. Go right to the leader. Once you talk, you can ask to shadow them for a day, or meet in their office for an informational interview about their work. It definitely won’t happen if you don’t ask.
Closer to home, I want you to ask yourself who in your circle of friends can help you on the regular? Who can support you as you reach for these goals? It can be as easy as sharing that dream with a trusted friend or someone new who can offer you a fresh perspective. Either way, you are creating a support network you can turn to so it’s not you all the time providing the momentum. They can hold you accountable for small and big goals. Let’s say you dream of starting your own hair salon. If you tell yourself, This week I’ll look at spaces and maybe do some recon on places that opened in the last year or so, then maybe you’ll do it. Or your other work and family responsibilities might take precedence. But tell your friend you’re going to do something and you are far more likely to do your homework. You won’t want to tell her, “Yeah, about that. I did squat.”
For me that go-to person is my wonderful business partner Lita Richardson. She is the one I turn to when I need to ask myself, Okay, what are the next goals? What is possible that I’m not seeing, me myself?
I first met Lita at a Magic Johnson event at Paramount Studios back when I was getting my hustle going as an actress. We were just two women at the bar, chilling by ourselves and absorbing the scene. Lita had a cute short haircut, and she is so beautiful that I assumed she was also an actress or model. I told her I liked her hair and I asked what type of work she did.
“I’m a lawyer,” she said.
“You’re a lawyer?!” I yelled, not able to hide my surprise. All the lawyers I’d seen were old white guys. “What kind of law?”
“Entertainment law,” she replied.
We would see each other at events and for some reason I could never remember her name. So I would say, “The pretty lawyer!” when I ran into her. I was starting to work a lot, and as I got more gigs, I realized it made sense for me tax-wise to get incorporated. I asked Lita to help me with that, and she later became my business partner. She always advises me and makes sure I read my contracts and know what the hell I am signing up for.
We check in usually once or twice a week. I get people trying to come at me sideways, “How about you invest in this?” And I always run it by Lita. She’ll hear an idea or look over a contract for me. “Nope, you shouldn’t do that,” she might say. Or if I really want something, she helps me make sure my bases are always covered and I protect myself. Lita has been with me so long that she is also my reality check. Whenever I get too comfortable in a job or take a blessing for granted, she is there to say, “Hey, missy, appreciate this.” She can say that because she was also there to lift me up when sure-bet shows got canceled or a movie I was dying to do sputtered in development. You need that someone to encourage your grind.
Lita actually brought me the opportunity to take over a line of wigs by Beverly Johnson, the legendary fashion icon who was the first African American model to ever appear on the cover of Vogue. I said to Lita, “All the damn money I’ve spent on wigs and weaves. Let me get some of those chips back.” Besides, I had been waiting for exactly this kind of opportunity. Back in the day, I had a stylist, a nice Swiss girl named Petra, who also worked with Raquel Welch, the number one wig seller in the world. One day I was with Petra, and I saw racks and racks of clothes.
“Oh, that is for Raquel’s big wigs shoot,” Petra answered in her deep Swiss voice.
“Damn,” I said, “how many changes does she do?”
“Oh, Vivica, we shoot for a couple of days and work all day,” she said, then added in a conspiratorial whisper, “But she makes so much money with that wig stuff.”
So when Lita hit me up with the Beverly Johnson opportunity, I yelled, “Sign me up! Sign my ass up right now!” But the Johnson line was in sad shape when I came on the scene. The way they were styling the wigs was boring and tired. They weren’t involved. “Look here, we gonna make this sexy,” I said. “We gotta make it like Puffy does with Cîroc—we gotta make it not about the wig, but about a lifestyle. We gotta let girls know that to wear wigs isn’t that big of a deal.”
I had to laugh when I quickly saw one blog, some hater, saying, “Now she’s selling wigs. Hmm. When the checks stop coming in…” The joke was on them. They didn’t know the hair business is a billion-dollar-a-year thing. They didn’t know that, but I did. I did my homework. Remember that when people are laughing at you for your business ideas.
The hair game has changed so much since I got in it, and I’d kind of like to take credit for it, to be very honest with you. You have great artists from Lady Gaga to Nicki Minaj come out rocking wigs. That inspires people to have fun and experiment. Then you have these young girls wanting to wear their braids down to their asses or have all these weaves in different colors. Well, guess who serviced ’em? Vivica did. The great part is that now everyone is trying to get into the hair game, or just doing lifestyle brands like Gwyneth Paltrow and the lovely Jessica Alba. And I beat them to it. Thank you, Lita.
So I really advise people: Get your Lita. I know that might sound easy to say to someone starting out, but at the very least there is nothing wrong with investing in yourself and getting a consult from a lawyer. Or at least getting a consult from a business-savvy friend until you can afford one. Whether you’re buying a house or teaming with someone on a project, you can ask him or her to look at contracts and make sure you realize what you’re signing up for. For years, women have been told to “sign and smile.” Be grateful for the opportunity, don’t negotiate, and don’t ask questions.
But if you do it right, you’re not just walking into that office or business opportunity alone. You’ve got a squad backing you up and pulling for you.
And I hope you’ll include me.
LESSON THREE
DON’T LET ANYONE WORK HARDER THAN YOU
Just one month after high school graduation, I packed my bags for California. I was seventeen years old, and I felt like my life was finally starting. Before I left Indy, I went to see Reverend McClendon to get his blessing one last time. By then he knew my goal: I wanted to be a model and I really thought I could make it. I thanked him again for always being so positive.
“Stay out of trouble, now,” the reverend told me.
“I will,” I said.
“And Angie, don’t you get involved with that crazy nightlife,” he said. “California is going to be a big place. Make sure you don’t get caught up with bad people.”
“No, sir,” I said.
Bright and early, Dad was there to drive me out west. He told me I always was his most adventurous child. “Eyes wide open yelling for me,” he said, “ready to take in life like a big old sponge.”
We took Route 66, and at one point I fell asleep. Keep in mind, Indiana is the flattest land on God’s earth. So when I woke up to see mountains, I screamed.
“Dad, it’s so beautiful!”
“Yes, baby,” he said, in his seen-it-all voice, “we’re in Colorado.”
Next we drove through Las Vegas, which might as well have been Mars. We stopped at a light, and I saw a woman with that sky-blue eye shadow, leather skin, and blond hair, smoking all them cigarettes. “Dad, what’s up with her?” I asked.
“Oh, baby, that’s them Vegas people right there,” he said, like we were on safari. “You are looking at the genuine article.”
When we got to Huntington Beach, I realized why all the stars lived in California. It was gorgeous, and nicknamed “Surf City” for the perfect waves and hot surfers. It had something else I wasn’t used to. I mean, I was raised around white people, but Huntington Beach was kinda like, Whoa, okay, it’s a whole bunch of white people up in here.
The deal was that I was going to stay with my brother Marvin’s girlfriend at the time, Diana. Dad brought me to the apartment, and before he left, we both cried like babies.
Diana didn’t really want to play tour guide to a kid sister—a sign of things to come with her—so I explored Huntington Beach on my own. I was looking at everything, breathing in the ocean air. This Indiana girl literally stepped off a sidewalk so she could touch her first palm tree. Like the Sister from Another Planet or some shit. I said aloud to no one but myself, “Well, that is a different type of tree right there.”
And that ocean! It was the first time I’d ever seen the ocean, and I fell in love with its strength and beauty. After I met some other students, I remember, something we always did was end the night by swimming in the ocean. Now I am like, What the hell was I thinking? I could have been eaten by a shark! But when you’re young, you just do stuff.
One of the things I knew I had to do was live on my own two feet. About a week after I got settled in California, I called my mother.
“You know, Mom,” I said, “I don’t want you to send me money.”
She was quiet. Money was how she knew I was secure. “You sure, Angie?”
“I’m gonna go get a job because I can do schoolwork and I can do real work,” I said. “I think knowing you’re sending money will make me lazy.”
I knew she would understand that. “Lazy” was a four-letter word for my mom. She stayed quiet.
“Let me earn,” I said, “because I want to go do this for myself.”
“If you need me, I’m always here,” she said. I know now she was proud of that. Proud that she could provide, always that. But glad that she’d raised a worker.
But Lord, what had I done? Well, you know Everlyena Fox’s daughter went and got a job right away. In fact, I got two. One was at a Waldenbooks store in the Huntington Beach mall and the other was at Famous Raymond’s Potato Palace. (See, even then I knew to diversify my career.) The Palace had a—wait for it—all-baked-potato menu. Come on into my kitchen, and I can still make you a potato with broccoli and cheddar cheese, or chili and cheddar cheese, or meatballs and Parmesan cheese. And, of course, bacon bits, sour cream, and chives. Miss Vivica will make sure you get all the fixin’s.
At the Potato Palace, I met this girl Melanie. We clicked right away, and I told her I’d only been living with Diana three weeks and I couldn’t take it. I think she had designs on being a military wife. She had this life planned with Marvin that I knew my brother had no clue about. I flat-out told Melanie I couldn’t stand living with Diana.
“Come live with my family,” Melanie said.
I pictured a bunk bed or some sitch. “Oh, that’s so nice of you…”
“We got an extra room if you don’t mind paying rent.” That was more like it. I didn’t want charity and I needed my own space. And the rent was better than what I was paying, so it was “See ya, Diana!” (And yes, Marvin broke up with her right quick.)
I was building up my little California squad, adding two new friends, Lisa and Gigi. They were my party girls, the ones who took me to Soul Train. We would go to the Red Onion for margaritas. Melanie’s family decided they were moving, and I ended up living with Gigi’s family. They were Filipino and adored me. I was like a little foreign exchange student to them. Their pretty little black fake daughter. My Filipino mama was a great cook, especially with fish. But, oh God, they loved rice. They would eat it to death! And I’d eaten so much of it growing up that I’d had my fill for life. I am still in touch with these women today, and yes, I still cal
l Gigi’s mother Mom.
I realize now, of course, looking back, how I was protecting myself from feeling lonesome. Re-creating a family life was my way of feeling less scared on my little adventure.
I had plenty to be afraid of, frankly. Breaking into modeling was tougher than I ever expected. I would make an appointment with an agency, and each time I would think, Well, here we go. I had my little pictures all ready to show them. I’d walk in and the rejection was pretty quick, though they thought they were being kind.
“We already got a black girl,” they’d say. “She looks just like you.” Then, in a sort of throwaway gesture, they’d add, “You’ve got a great look.”
I’d nod, thank them for their time, and see myself out. That was before the days of us coming in different shades and colors. They had their look and they were happy with their quota: one.
I needed some excitement to make up for selling books and potatoes while facing constant rejection. So I started venturing out to Los Angeles, hanging out with more girls. I was discovering who I was, and that nightlife was calling me. Exactly like Reverend McClendon had warned me. I’d go out to L.A. with my new friends and party. It was amazing meeting all these new people, going out Saturday and not hearing Mama yelling on Sunday morning, “Time for church!”
I had a good run partying and living for weekends. Before I knew it, I was doing less and less work for my Golden West degree, and picking up more hours to fund the clubbing. Don’t get me wrong and cue up the eighties Less Than Zero soundtrack. I never got messy or anything even like that. What I was guilty of was wasting time.