In the 1980s and early ’90s, Richard Minadeo created jewels for rock royalty. Fans of his chunky gold pieces — studded with rhinestones, sharp-carved beads and religious imagery — included Cher, Carly Simon and Madonna.
Then, in the early 2000s, he disappeared. “I didn’t think I would make jewelry again,” the now 70-year-old tells The Post, after his in-your-face baubles went out of style. “I was walking dogs to supplement my social security.”
Now, Minadeo is back, creating his signature goth-glam jewels for celeb-favorite fashion mecca Resurrection Vintage. The one-of-a-kind gems — which sell for $350 to $650 — are available at Resurrection’s Noho store, as well as its pop-up boutique inside the new Neiman Marcus at Hudson Yards.
“His stuff flies off the shelves,” says Katy Rodriguez, Resurrection’s co-founder, who sent Minadeo a Facebook message last fall, coaxing him out of retirement. “I thought I would be placing in new orders once a month, but it’s been every week.”
“He definitely has a singular vision,” she adds, describing his aesthetic as “punk” yet “luxe.” And, she says, his handmade work “retains its soul.”
The Bronx-born Minadeo says that as a kid, he was inspired by his mother, a former model who hosted jewelry-selling parties.
“I remember she had this compact with rhinestones on it that I was mesmerized by,” says the designer, over cappuccinos at his old teen hangout Cafe Reggio, in Greenwich Village.
He studied art and illustration at the Fashion Institute of Technology and the School of Visual Arts, before moving to California. In San Francisco, he signed up for an altar-making class on a whim, inspired by the funky roadside shrines he saw in his travels.
His altars, made of broken-apart flea-market finds, impressed his professor, who suggested he try his hand at jewelry. Soon, he was selling to local Bay Area shops, before going back to New York City to meet with fashion editors and buyers.
“I remember going to an appointment at Bendel’s, and everyone is so dressed up and I’m there with my cookie tin full of jewelry in Army pants and a cut-off T-shirt,” says Minadeo. “I think everyone was bemused.”
One day, he got a call from costume designer Marlene Stewart, asking if he would create some of one-of-a-kind cross pieces for Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” tour. Stewart also gave Minadeo a pair of plain brocade heels, with instructions to give them his signature flourish: a week later, the Material Girl wore the pearl-encrusted pumps for her 1985 wedding to Sean Penn.
“I was sworn to secrecy,” says Minadeo. He never even met his famous client. “I once went to her hotel to deliver a belt I made ahead of a concert, but she didn’t come out,” he recalls.
“She’s a genius,” he adds, “but you get the sense that she never propagated anyone but herself.”
Not so Cher, who had the designer personally deliver her a pair of earrings she ordered, in the mid-’80s. “Her younger lover [Josh Donen] answered the door, took a look at me in my goatee and beret and said, ‘Honey, Che Guevara’s here.’”
“She was the most matter-of-fact, toughest person I’ve ever met,” he says, adding that Cher had him rework the knockers countless times so they would dangle just so. “But she was really great and cool.”
Minadeo never changed his aesthetic, and once mid-’90s minimalism rolled around, fashion-followers no longer wanted his wares. He lost orders at stores like Barneys, and tried hawking his costume jewelry at the Plaza for a time, before giving up and taking a job at a record store.
He’d been happily retired for five years, and admits that it took some convincing from Rodriguez to get him back into jewelry. But he’s glad he gave in.
“Technically my work is much better — I feel freer,” he says. “I’ve been buying more expensive Victorian pieces and picking them apart.”
Minadeo says he will continue making his gems on his kitchen table in Jersey City as long as Resurrection will have him. But he still walks dogs: “This may all be gone tomorrow,” he says.
In the meantime, his jewelry is attracting a new generation of pop stars, such as Miley Cyrus, who has been sporting an armful of his freshly made bracelets.
And Minadeo is reveling in the unexpected success. “How many people get a second chance like this so late in life?” he says.