Last year, the Cinderella Project, which works out of a youth center in South Central Los Angeles, outfitted more than 300 young women from the area for proms they may otherwise have been unable to attend for lack of appropriate dress. The youth center, A Place Called Home, has already had to lay off five of its 40 staff members after its annual budget was cut from $3.1 million to $2.3 million; concurrently, the center has seen demand for its services double. Attendance at the Cinderella Project is expected to rise by 20% on last year, but donors have not been entirely forthcoming.

Although you can also donate to the center online, funds for A Place Called Home itself largely come from philanthropic foundations, whose giving is a function of their stock portfolios' performances — which, sadly, means that in leaner times charities can be less able to fund good works in the community than when the economy is faring better. The Cinderella Project, however, largely receives its donations in the form of unsold clothing and footwear from retailers — something there's plenty of right now, in the wake of last fall's disastrous retail season and the continued softening of consumer spending. But many department stores and apparel companies are so short for cash that they would rather sell their extra stock to discounters like Loehmann's and Filene's Basement, and see at least some return, even if it's only pennies on the dollar, than give to the Cinderella Project or any of the dozens of other prom-related charities like it.

Payless has promised 60 pairs of shoes for the Project, and Jimmy Choo has just offered to make an undisclosed donation.

Zappos.com, whose revenue topped $1 billion in 2008, will not be giving to the Cinderella Project. "How should I justify giving you $1,000 and not giving the next $1,000? It's really tough," says Aaron Magness, the company's director of business development. Zappos is still doing other giving — but only to national organizations.

Offering needy young women a new dress and a pair of heels might not seem like the most practical solution to poverty on the block — after all, it's just one night — but nobody should underestimate the importance of the school prom in the eyes of a 16-year-old. Even a Teen Vogue editor gets it: "One night like this can literally change the way a girl sees herself socially," says fashion director Gloria Baume. Like it or not, we live in a society where all manner of social hierarchies and relationships are subtly reinforced through dress — and giving a young woman the means to be seen differently in the eyes of others can, more importantly, transform how she sees herself. But only if there are enough donations.

Cinderella Dream Gets Squeezed [WSJ]
A Place Called Home — Donate [APCH]
List Of Prom Charity Programs By State [Glass Slipper Project]

Photo of last year's Cinderella Project event via Wall Street Journal

Hoffman realized the book had been published after seeing a photo of Peggy and her daughter, Rya, in the Times' "Home & Garden" section last week. That story described Peggy's pink hoodie, "gangland slang" and acrylic nails, and congratulated her for her grit in overcoming her underprivileged existence. (Sample passage: "'The first time my o. g. visited me here'" — meaning original gangster, the gang's leader — 'he slept 20 hours straight. In L.A. your anxiety is so high you sleep three hours a night.'") The Times had been creaming themselves over Love and Consequences until the fabrication news broke. In addition to the "Home & Garden" profile, the notoriously poison-tongued and powerful book critic Michiko Kakutani had given Love an outright rave.

Sarah McGrath, Peggy's editor at Riverhead (the same imprint that published James Frey's My Friend Leonard), is devastated. "It's very upsetting to us because we spent so much time with this person and we felt such sympathy for her and she would talk about how she didn't have any money or any heat and we completely bought into that and thought we were doing something good by bringing her story to light," McGrath told the Times. McGrath added: "There was a way to do this book honestly and have it be just as compelling." (McGrath is absolutely correct. If you want to read a well-researched book about the inner city world of drug running, try Random Family by Adrien Nicole LeBlanc.)

Peggy sounds only semi-contrite about lying her way to a book deal. "For whatever reason, I was really torn and I thought it was my opportunity to put a voice to people who people don't listen to...I was in a position where at one point people said you should speak for us because nobody else is going to let us in to talk." Peggy did work with gang members in South Central and, for a time, attended Grant High in a poor section of the Valley; she based the book on the experiences of those around her. "Trust no one. Even your own momma will sell you out for the right price or if she gets scared enough," she writes in Love and Consequences. Sadly, book editors may have to start heeding that advice more and more.

Author Admits Acclaimed Memoir Is Fantasy [New York Times]
A Refugee From Gangland [New York Times]
However Mean the Streets, Have an Exit Strategy [New York Times]
Gangbanger Margaret B. Jones Is Really Peggy Seltzer, Valley Girl [Mediabistro]
Why Do We Keep Publishing Fake Memoirists? [Mediabistro]

Related: Fabricating Writer's Hilarious Interview