I am … hesitating. Here I am about to write a hagiography (a saint’s life), albeit for a nudes-selling, secular saint. But I am no rube, and there are no heroes. Those that were—the old ones—have all been torn down. 

And yet, I must admit—there are villains. There is even an arch villain now. Does that bring heroes into existence? It certainly cries out for heroes.

Perhaps Suzy Berry is a new kind of hero … a hero for these strange new times—in a word, a forgiveness-preaching pin-up, who sells frilly vintage and soft-core porn to rescue “broken” horses.

My first encounter with Berry began in skepticism over floral lattes (at Sebastopol’s Retrograde Coffee). I suppose it was my first impression of blond perfectionism—too sweet, too perfectly pitched—quite like a good witch Glinda. As a wounded cynic, I anticipated a mask. I began with appearances.

Sipping my latte, I asked, “Ms. Berry, I spoke with Chai-spiced clothing designer Chenoa Faun. She described your aesthetic as ‘Venus de Milo meets Lucille Ball.’ She also said that you can wear ‘the sluttiest thing’ and render it ‘classy and timelessly classic.’ I asked her about your most famous original design … ‘The Naked Dress?’”

Berry lit up and said, “Yes! I made the first one for my best friend. She had a shoot with a famous photographer and needed something fabulous to wear. So, I made her a skin-colored chiffon mermaid dress—completely sheer, no lining. And then I took white Alençon lace, cut out motifs of my favorite flowers, and hand-stitched them over the breasts and the private areas, accenting them with Swarovski crystals. So she looked completely nude with these crystallized flowers just where it counted. That design was such a hit, I quickly made and sold maybe 30 of those in a short time span.”

I leafed through her reference photos as Berry spoke, stopping at the vision gracing this week’s collectible cover, and said, “Ms. Suzy, looking at this photo, I am struck with a resemblance with the folk heroine Lady Godiva [who averted her lord husband’s war by riding a horse naked through town]?”

At that, she clapped her hands together joyfully, saying, “Yes, I love her!”

It suddenly occurred to me to say, “This is random, but would you portray her in the Apple Blossom Parade?”

“Well, of course!” she replied, laughing.

“Or perhaps the next Women’s March,” I said, darkening. “It would be a romantic and powerful scene… Ms. Suzy, apart from the image-making power of the Disney Princess machine, what would you say is the true romance of horses?”

She considered this and said, “Well, they have their play and their horsey drama, but they spend a lot of their time in a meditative state—and that presence rebalances us. The electromagnetic field generated by a horse’s heartbeat is actually 10-times larger than that of a human, so when you enter their space—about 50 feet—they will begin to sync your heartbeat to their own, slowing it and calming it. 

“Horses have a great size and muscular power,” she continued, “and yet they are incredibly sensitive and highly emotional creatures. Their capacity for energetic reception and non-verbal communication is almost telepathic. It’s magic!”

“…The power and beauty of these creatures makes the mythic unicorn seem superfluous,” I mused. “… It also makes the abuse of these angelic creatures seem demonic. You have described to me some horrific cases of abuse, Suzy. Why do people beat horses?”

She leaned back, drained her cup and said, “I think punishment-based training comes from fear. People don’t want the challenge and opportunity of a horse expressing its free will. They want a horse that is so subservient that won’t even turn its head when something moves in the trail brush … I always had a strong personal knowing that those that seek total control are actually the weakest people … ”

“Suzy, could you give our readers a sense of how you rehabilitate horses before rehoming them?” I asked.

Her response was, “Yes! Normally when a horse comes to us, it comes from a situation that has not been good. The horse will come with a dull personality—or a fearful one. They will be like, ‘Oh no, don’t touch me!’ The term is ‘dead broke,’ which is such an ugly word, but it’s true—it’s like part of their spirit has died … all for the sake of letting a human feel ‘safe’ using them. Which is so wrong, it’s outrageous. I don’t know how people don’t see that, but they don’t.” 

Rehabilitation starts with her volunteers, said Berry. 

“We have amazing volunteers. They cuddle with the horses, give them treats, lots of grooming. Spend time with them, not asking anything of them in the beginning. Asking nothing—only giving, because obviously, the horse-human relationship has been unbalanced for a while, and it’s caused them to shut down and expect nothing,” she explained. 

“So, we start building the expectation that this should be a partnership. That it should be balanced. That they should always get something—verbal praise, a treat or just love-energy—directed at them. Something must be given back. It can’t be ‘human takes all, and the horse must be subservient or is punished’ … My ‘training’ is strictly rewards-based,” Berry continued.

“That’s beautiful, Suzy. Your process sounds unsparing and, well, expensive…,” I said, gesturing down at the photos. “Could you tell us about the style of erotic content you sell to pay for horse rehab—I believe you place it in the genre of ‘solo’ porno?”

“Well … it has a throwback Hollywood pin-up girl theme—set against a backdrop of mystic blue, gold and crème. Everything is vintage. The lingerie is either designer or made by me. It’s set to vintage music played on vinyl. … And it’s just me … enjoying myself,” she laughed. “I bring joy and the opposite of shame—embodying sexuality in the most positive and happy, innocent way. I never understood why people demonize sex …” Berry said, tossing back her strawberry mane.

“What little I reviewed to write this article seemed to be in your authentic character, Susy. I was reminded of a frocking mare … well, in heat,” I said. And we laughed together.

Indeed, her erotic content has the quality of innocence—not the innocence of a child, pre-trauma, but that of an adult, post-healing. And speaking of the garden and the fall of man, Berry later told me that given the inevitable sexual exploitation of women in late capitalist society, she decided to form a business that allows her to trade sex safely—and even turn the tables on certain would-be predators by getting them to pay and pay and pay. 

And she has the added reason that her spoilt horses basically eat bales of cash.

Across our several visits to her rescue ranch (and one fashion ball), in the context of a growing mutual trust, Berry volunteered to tell me about how she had been sexually abused—in her early career as an exotic dancer at private clubs and Craigslist listed “parties.” I’ll not print that here. But what she told me reminded me of her stories of horse abuse and the scourging of the innocents. I began to see the parallels and linkages between her abuse, horse abuse, her rescue and horse rescue. They were linked, locked and one in the same.

Revisiting our interviews, I found I had one more question. I met her with her long-term partner at her parents’ house. “Suzy… you are so light—how did you heal?” I asked.

“Lots of therapy,” she replied, bursting out laughing. “Especially psychedelic-assisted therapy. It let me see things from a place of non-judgment and no fear. And the horses! Horses are the greatest healers of all. They get you so grounded and present, you’re like, ‘Everything is cool right now, and so the past is not that important.’ They get you there and hold you there.”

I laughed, saying, “It reminds me of what people commonly say about their rescue dogs—‘They rescued me!’”

Pursuing a last line of journalistic hero-skepticism, I later talked to an ex-employee, Regina Davis (talk to exes for the dirt!). Davis reassured me, saying Berry was “the most amazing woman I have ever met.” 

On the theme of healing, Davis described her own physical and mental beautification under the care of the horses she was helping Berry to “rescue.”

She told me how, having been just summarily fired from a job of 20 years, she approached a horse that, sensing her bottled-up pain, pulled her into a long horsey hug of head and neck and chest, where she just cried and cried and cried until she was emptied of grief.

And … I was convinced.

There is a quality to Berry—her light. Her light as she stands in the strength of our ancient allyship with the horse and speaks with love and compassion about forgiveness and redemption, rehabilitation and healing, expiation of sexual shame and the innocence of sexual joy. 

She’s a hero.

Help. Suzy Berry recently had to give up her ranch lease and divide her rescues between multiple guesting properties. She is looking for hands, donations, vintage sales and new video subscribers. Her dream is to own land here and open a permanent center for horse rescue, non-exploitative horsemanship, horse-assisted psychotherapy, fairy tale weddings and a death-positive hospice for the dying. Visit heartofgoldsanctuary.org.