From The Runway to Instagram, These Models Are Making Fashion History

In honor of Black History Month, we’ve decided to launch an editorial initiative, Next Gen, where we’ll be highlighting creatives that are changing the fashion industry. Our intention with this series is to dive deeper into the people that have—and to continue to—shape every facet of the fashion industry. 

At this point in the month, we’ve opened up discussions with some of the industry’s key players to address systemic racism and its symptoms that remain all-to-present in fashion. We’ve heard from the Black designers and Black stylists doing the work to make this industry a more equitable environment that does a better job of representing the world we live in, but there’s another group who often get silenced in these conversations about inclusivity: models. 

Let’s face it: Black models are the ones who carry out the industry’s goals of diversity and inclusion. It’s their faces who we see plastered to billboards, gracing the latest season’s runways, and featured in our targeted ads. But for all the airtime they get in the media, models are a group that the industry has historically been left out of bigger-picture decisions. Of course, many have built up their own platforms with audiences that rival the brands who book them, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of challenges that Black models are still faced with.

The reality is that a client might use them for a few campaigns to appear more diverse on the surface and then ghost. Or, as is sadly the more likely instance, a model will be booked for a job only to walk onto the set and find a makeup artist who lacks their shades, a hairstylist who doesn’t know how to work with Black hair, and a photographer who doesn’t have the lighting skills to shoot darker skin tones. For true inclusivity to be a reality, there’s still a lot that needs to happen.

We sat down with three models whose résumés span everything from the runway to the cover of your favorite magazines. Ahead, hear from them on what needs to change for the industry to move past performative allyship, some of their work they’re proudest of, and what they’re passionate about outside of modeling.

What inspired you to get into modeling in the first place?

I always planned on going to law school and going into politics, and realized very quickly after moving to the South for school that some spaces are not built for me, a fat Black woman, to win. What my heart really desired—being center stage telling stories and being creative—didn’t seem attainable because I never saw a fat Black woman acting as the main character in anything I consumed as a child. I thought back to who I was before the world told me I couldn’t be that. She was a little girl in a room writing stories about beauty, life, and romance surrounded by copies of Teen Vogue. So I moved to New York to find her again, and modeling happened. 

What impact do you hope your modeling work has?

To be honest, my work is not so motivated by changing the industry—which is deeply rooted in misogyny, colorism, fatphobia, and capitalism—as it is in changing the hearts of people who consume it. I want people to consider how pretty privilege impacts our lives outside of fashion, how we treat others based on body-based social capital, and how we can channel beauty and prosperity outside of the systems mentioned above. I want us to challenge our definitions of beauty and how we interact with it in our daily lives, and I want us to be surrounded by people, places, and things that call us back to our highest selves, even in unexpected places. I want to be someone who calls you to your highest self in an unexpected place. 

Fashion over the past few years has had a reckoning with systemic racism. How do you think the industry as a whole can move past performative allyship? Clients and agencies can stop trying to look like an ally, and actually embody anti-racism work. That’s a great start. Google is free ninety-nine. Production teams scout talent and create vision boards on the same internet that I exist on so I know the information is available to them. Pay the folks you put on your mood boards. Pay us a lot of money for the absolutely invaluable work we provide. We are not a trend, we’re not going anywhere, and we will hold the industry accountable when BLM is no longer in social media account bios.

Which has been your favorite modeling project you’ve done so far, and why?

I was naked and oiled up for Glossier. That did it for me. It’s very liberating to sit in a room bare-ass naked, and be the star, and then have it plastered all over the country and published. Pretty cool. Honestly, I rarely like what I wear on sets because stylists love to play fat women for sport. The stylist on that Glossier shoot, AJ Gibbson, brought a skin-toned thong and pasties, and the makeup artist Michela Wariebi got all up in my crevices with body oil. I’m still laughing thinking about how intimate I was with complete strangers that day. Really beautiful.

Your modeling résumé spans work from the runway to magazine covers. How can brands and talent agencies be not only diverse but also avoid tokenism in the process? What would true inclusivity look like in your eyes? 

True inclusivity in my eyes is a 360-degree approach to producing photo shoots. It means making sure that everyone on set is capable of working with models of all skin tones and hair types, making sure that photographers can properly light a variety of shades, etc. Casting also plays a huge part in inclusivity. Many casting directors have archaic ideals around beauty and fashion that perpetuate the lack of diversity we see today.

Style and beauty can be a tool of survival for the Black community. What role do you think fashion has played in your life?

Fashion, style, and beauty have played a huge role in my personal liberation. The decision to go natural was a tipping point into a deeper exploration of myself. It began an internal dialogue that forced me to ask myself, in what other ways have I been programmed to believe that I am not worthy? That I am not enough? That I am inadequate? If for 24 years I could carry this false belief about myself, that I was somehow less than with my natural hair, then what other beliefs were I carrying that subconsciously controlled the way I moved through the world?

Fashion and beauty are their own forms of storytelling—the industry at large has long been telling stories that center on whiteness, and Eurocentric beauty features. For you, what story do you hope your work tells?  I want my work to tell the story of an “imperfect” person finding their own version of perfection through loving themselves and using that love of self to then empower everyone around them.

What was your biggest “I made it” moment to date? Any personal milestones you’re proud of?

I am experiencing my biggest “I made it” moment now with the completion of the book I’ve been writing for the last four years that chronicles my experience of going from disempowered to self-realized. It’s my magnum opus. I’m sure I’ll go on to do other great things but this is huge for me.

In terms of fashion though, I think the biggest “I made it” moment was seeing myself on a billboard in SoHo after being told by my then-agency that I wouldn’t get work with natural hair. As I said, God chooses those who choose themselves.

Fashion over the past few years has had a reckoning with systemic racism. How do you think the industry as a whole can move past performative allyship? 

It is really simple. Diversity and inclusiveness. There are still brands out there that see using light-skinned and dark-skinned girls as a “trend”. They use us for one or two jobs or seasons to please people and then stop. It is kind of funny to me that we are still having this conversation because Ellen Pompeo said something in an interview almost three years ago and it stuck with me. She said “… But I don’t see enough color. And I didn’t see enough color when I walked in the room today. I think it’s up to all productions to make sure that your crew looks like the world that you see…” and when she said that it really struck me. To this day, we have to be aware that if our lives outside of set look much more diverse than when we’re on set, there is a disconnect that needs to be fixed. 

Fashion and beauty are their own forms of storytelling—the industry at large has long been telling stories that center on whiteness, and Eurocentric beauty features. For you, what story do you hope your work tells? 

I always think of this little girl I saw on the train once with her mom, she was about 6 or 7 with her curly hair tied up in a bun. I looked up and saw her looking at me, so I smiled, made a silly face, then put my head back down. A couple of minutes later I look back up, her hair is down, she has this huge smile on her face, she points to my hair (I had my curls out at the time) then points to her hair and smiles even bigger. I looked up at her mom and she mouthed “Thank you” and at that moment I realized how much of an impact just being yourself and being confident in your skin (and hair) can have. So I hope that my work helps the kids who are made fun of because of their differences to become more confident and fearless within themselves and to love themselves.

Which has been your favorite modeling moment you’ve had so far, and why?

It’s hard to choose just one, but I would have to say Project Runway (S/S ’17). I really enjoyed having the opportunity to be with 16 designers and seeing all the inspiration, creativity, determination, focus, and skills flying around the room. It was exciting watching the designers work their asses off every week, fighting for the same thing, and seeing everyone push each other past their limits. No one really knows what goes on behind the scenes so being able to take part in that and see it was I mean just inspiring and amazing.

Next: These 5 Black Designers Are Painting the Future of Fashion