Peggy Goldwater Clay might not have inherited the political gene that runs through her family tree, but growing up in a household that viewed individualism as a political principal certainly helped shape her winding career path.
“I’ve always had an entrepreneurial spirit,” says Clay, a 68-year-old Newport Beach resident who has cofounded two companies, sold one of them to Knott’s Berry Farm, hosted a TV show, written a column about nonprofits and now works for one.
She’s managed all of that without getting caught up in the shadow cast by her father, Barry Goldwater, the Republican from Arizona who spent 30 years in the U.S. Senate and served as his party’s standard bearer in the presidential election of 1964.
Her father lost to Lyndon Johnson in a landslide, but his political philosophy—long on libertarian sensibilities, ever cautious about government’s growing role in society—commands plenty of adherents today. It laid the groundwork for Ronald Reagan’s rise on the national scene and paved the way for the modern conservative movement.
The toil of the presidential campaign was hard on her and her family—“I’m kind of glad he didn’t win, because I got my dad back—I loved the hell out of him.”
But her late father’s legacy “doesn’t bother me at all,” she says. “That’s who I am, and I’m very proud of it.”
Salad Days
Clay put her own name first when she joined with friend Jane Wedmore to launch Peggy Jane’s Salad Dressing in 1976 despite “not knowing a damn thing about the food industry.”
The company had its first case of condiments on grocery store shelves thanks to a distribution deal with Tustin-based Young’s Market Co.
Peggy Jane’s Inc., which introduced the first honey mustard and honey sesame dressing on the U.S. market, was sold in 1986 for about $2 million to Knott’s Berry Foods.
“It was a nice chunk of change and allowed me to think about what I wanted to do,” said Clay.
She went on to help her niece establish Goldwater’s Foods in Arizona in 1990. The Scottsdale-based company had nationwide distribution within a year and released the first pineapple salsa on the market.
Clay served as chairman and president of the company during its early years, overseeing a product line that included Bisbee Barbeque Sauce and Senator’s Chili Mix, based on Barry Goldwater’s own recipe.
Out of the Ordinary
The women in her own family left a lasting impression on Clay and likely played a bigger role than her father’s political fame in influencing her business path.
Her grandmother, Josephine Williams, a lover of the outdoors, challenged the conventional mores of her day. She smoked and drank whiskey, was Arizona’s first female golf champion, and taught her children how to camp and shoot guns.
“She wanted to instill a great love of country in her children,” Clay said.
Clay’s mother, Peggy Johnson, studied fashion design in New York under David Crystal, a renowned designer who built a company lauded for women’s suits, wrap skirts, and blouses with matching shorts and shawls.
Peggy Johnson returned to Arizona when she married Barry Goldwater, and the couple didn’t put their children on pedestals or press them to follow family legacies, Clay said.
“Our parents really didn’t put any expectations on us,” she says.
Clay made some concessions to the family business, though. She got married at 19 in June 1964, just months before the presidential election. Her marriage lasted about 10 years.
The stigma of divorce, especially for a political family, weighed heavily on Clay, and ultimately her first marriage delayed her entrance into the business world.
“I wanted to be nice to my folks and stuck it out another five years,” she says. “I had a late start in life with my careers.”
Working Wardrobes
These days Clay’s career has more to do with “programs that help people,” she says during a short break at Working Wardrobes’ headquarters in Costa Mesa, where struggling job seekers receive the right outfits and needed skills to land a position.
It’s not her first stint in the nonprofit sector in Orange County. She also served in various fundraising roles at the University of California, Irvine’s Brain Imaging Center for 17 years, helping to secure new PET scanners and Southern California’s first cyclotron machine, which helps produce three-dimensional pictures of biological processes at work.
Clay was asked to join the Brain Imaging Center Committee by OC philanthropist and activist Athalie Clarke, who encouraged Richard Nixon and Reagan to run for president during sit-downs in her Newport Beach living room.
Clarke, who helped establish and expand UC Irvine, was married to James Irvine III, whose father founded the Irvine Company.
Clay came to her latest career stop last year after mulling retirement. She was scouring help-wanted ads and came across a store manager position at Working Wardrobes and called the founder, Jerri Rosen, who told her to come into the office the next day.
She hired Clay on the spot to handle incoming clothing and accessory donations. Clay also spent some time as assistant manager at The Hanger, the nonprofit’s boutique outlet in Laguna Niguel.
Rosen launched the company in 1990 to help out-of-work women find jobs and learn skills. It later expanded to help men and military veterans.
Its headquarters receives thousands of articles of clothing every week to outfit job seekers transitioning from careers or from jail. Many are alcoholics and drug offenders who took a wrong turn along the way.
“I’ve seen people here in their 50s to 60s and as young as 18 or 19,” says Clay, who now handles community relations for the organization. “We want them to go to their job or interview with dignity, feeling confident.”
Many veterans who come home after a tour don’t own dress suits. Clay beams when she talks about the privilege of outfitting Jeanne Cassidy, a 26-year Coast Guard veteran who became one of Working Wardrobes’ clients.
“I dressed her in a beautiful blue skirt and shocking-pink blouse,” she says, “and she has now segued into one of our volunteers in Laguna Niguel.”
Clay has found her new home far from the glamorous settings she grew up in.
“I’m just plain old Peggy,” she says. “I don’t expect to retire for at least five years; then I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll probably volunteer.”
