A conversation with Chinazo Ufodiama
In June, Patia Borja, the founder of the Instagram @patiasfantasyworld, shared the guide she had written on racism in the fashion industry. The overarching theme was the lack of representation, and it was split into seven sections; models, photographers, designers and creative directors, editors-in-chief and magazines, CEOs of corporations and the richest individuals in fashion, the disadvantages of an industry that relies on unpaid internships, and finally, lack of diversity in fashion schools.
No one aspect is any more important than the other within these categories. All seven areas need to be addressed to end systemic racism within the fashion industry. However, the statistics which mostly stuck with me were those shared in the 'CEOs of corporations and the richest individuals in fashion' section. I have pasted this section below:
"Beyond representation in fashion amongst creative positions, there are positions of power, such as CEOs, who hold the largest portion of wealth in the industry. A disproportionate number of these are white men. See below for facts and figures on representation in the wealthiest positions:
– There are only four Black CEOs at Fortune 500 companies, and that none of them are women
– Only two Black women have ever led a Fortune 500 company, and neither of them were in fashion
– The first was Ursula Burns, who served as CEO of Xerox from 2009 until 2016, and as chairwoman from 2010 to 2017
– The second Black woman on the list was Mary Winston who, in May 2019, became the interim CEO of Bed Bath & Beyond. She only held the position until November of that year, when she was replaced by Mark Tritton, a white man.
– According to a 2019 list of the 15 richest people in fashion (designers, founders, CEOs, and heiresses who have made their fortunes in fashion, from haute couture to fast fashion). None are Black (1 white woman, 2 Asian men, with the remaining 12 being all white men).
– The 15 richest people in the fashion industry are worth a combined $395.6 billion.
– The richest person in fashion is French businessman Bernard Arnault, the chairman of LVMH, who's worth $105.7 billion.
– WWD's 2018 list of the 25 highest paid fashion executives featured nearly all white individuals, and one Black man—Marvin Ellison, who has since left as the CEO of JCPenney and is now the CEO of Lowes."
This week I spoke to Chinazo Ufodiama about the podcast she founded called Unpretty, which explores perceptions of beauty through the lens of Black and non-Black people of color. Chinazo has worked in fashion PR over the past ten years, and in our conversation, she speaks about her experiences in the fashion industry. I ask Chinazo about casting and the importance of representation within fashion editorials, advertisement, and on the catwalk—but I also ask about the people behind the scenes that we can't immediately see.
Shonagh Marshall: What does the Unpretty podcast focus on?
Chinazo Ufodiama: We focus on the perceptions of beauty through the lens of people of color. We're not just discussing make-up routines and rituals, even though that does come into the conversations. It's about how people of color are perceived within their communities, themselves, and wider society. It covers lots of things: we've talked about representation in the media, appropriation, the availability, and diversity of beauty products and make-up and hair.
Shonagh: The podcast offers intimacy; it feels like you are listening to friends talking. As a white listener, it provides an invaluable space for learning. Why did you decide to start it?
Chinazo: The idea was born out of a conversation between myself and six other Black women; we talked about getting our braids done. Two of us already used the same hairdresser, and one wanted to start going there. We were talking about the different styles we like to wear our hair. I like my braids quite messy and undone, one woman likes her braids super tight and neat, and another always has her cropped. The conversation went on for around 20 minutes. I realized how wild that was.
I grew up in a mostly white community, and the majority of my friends to this day are white or at least non-Black. I realised I had never had a conversation like that before. I have no sisters, and my mum can't really do hair. I thought it would be great to record conversations like these for other people to listen in. I've had so many situations, mainly in work environments, where someone has said or done something inappropriate. Whether it's to do with my hair, my race, or culture. I thought the podcast could essentially be a reference point for people, a meeting place for people with similar experiences to relate, and others to learn
That was in October 2019, and we launched Unpretty in April 2020. It just so happened that with the unlawful killing of George Floyd in May, a racial awakening or reckoning followed, and now the podcast has become even more relevant to the landscape that we live in. When we started it, we weren't reacting to a societal need, but more a personal need.
Shonagh: You work in fashion PR; you mentioned that you had experienced racism in the workplace. Is there anything that you would be willing to talk about that had happened in your career working in fashion that led to you starting Unpretty?
Chinazo: Yes, I can generally talk about the experiences I have had. It has ranged from people touching my hair, people calling my braids dreads, people coming back from a holiday within a suntan, putting their arm next to mine, and comparing skin tones—these experiences are obviously not just limited to fashion PR.
A more specific example, more related to my job, was when as part of a project for a brand, we were looking to cast key opinion leaders in the industry for a brands’ campaign. I pulled together a deck, proposing the people that I thought were the most relevant for the project. My line manager looked at it and said, "Can we make this a bit more diverse?" I remember being so shocked. As a Black person, your race does not necessarily mean that you'll think diversely—I felt it was inappropriate for a white person to tell me to think more diversely, as though it was not intentional based on my lived experience. At that stage, the exercise became somewhat tokenistic and someone was chosen largely because of the color of their skin.
There were other examples where I would be pulled into conversations for my opinion for "cool" people to invite to events or to dress in the brands we represented. When I looked across the business at various workplaces where that happened, the people asked this were often other people of color. It made me think, "Is that all you think I'm good for?" I have a lot of insight and experience in many other parts of the industry. I guess these events played into the reason why we started Unpretty. There are four of us who created the podcast, Basma Khalifa, Ayo Sule, Kaydine Biscette and myself.
But it wasn't just my experience in the workplace; it was also interactions with friends and strangers. I remember a time when I had grey braids, I was walking through Notting Hill station, and this woman sprinted down the tunnel to tell me how amazing my hair was. Which is lovely, but she touched it, grabbing fistfuls of my braids. This happened numerous times. Why do people think that is appropriate? We haven't even covered hair touching on the podcast yet—that will be for season two!
Shonagh: How do you decide what subjects to focus on in each episode?
Chinazo: When we first started, we had a long list of topics we wanted to cover. It was a mixture of things based on our personal experiences or something that we were interested to learn more about from experiences outside of our own. Basma, Kaydine, Ayo, and I are so different; even Ayo and I, although we're both Nigerian, we're from different tribes and had completely different upbringings.
We have guests because we want to make sure, although there's no way that we'll ever be able to make entirely sure that we represent different voices and experiences. We wanted every episode to provide different perspectives.
Aside from our list, sometimes our listeners will suggest things. The episode on SPF and tanning, our fifth episode, was a suggestion from one of our listeners. It was super interesting as we actually wouldn't have put that down; nobody would ever expect a conversation around tanning to involve a person of color. That is what made it even more interesting because it should include people of color, we're all essentially made up of the same DNA, it's just that our skin color is different.
Shonagh: How do you define beauty in the podcast? It can be such a broad term, so I would like to know how you frame it. Also, how does this fit into its definition within the fashion industry?
Chinazo: Beauty is always described as a tangible thing, but I think it's more of an emotion. Whether it's an emotion you feel towards something or someone or a feeling that someone feels towards you. Beauty goes in two ways. You can feel beautiful within yourself, and someone can find you attractive, but at the end of the day, it's entirely emotive. The industry has created this idealized image of beauty, although there's been a more diverse representation of what beauty is over the last decade.
Shonagh: I agree there have been some steps taken to attempt to diversify the industry. You're on the British Fashion Council Diversity and Inclusion Steering Committee. Could you explain what that is?
Chinazo: It's a new committee formed in September in response to the killing of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and the anti-racist movement that followed. The steering committee sits within the British Fashion Council's Institute of Positive Fashion, which demonstrates the connectivity between sustainability, or how the industry uses the word sustainability, and representation. The British Fashion Council was quick to identify that.
The British Fashion Council has done a fantastic job when it comes to sustainability. It's essentially a pillar built into all of the communication and relationships with the brands they work with, and fall under the British Fashion Council. There's no reason why they can't do the same when it comes to representation and safeguarding of people of lived minority experience within the industry.
The purpose of the steering committee is to drive more diversity and inclusion within the industry. We're still in the early stages. It's such a big job, I think that's what some people don't quite understand, there has been quite a lot of impatience as a result. I've had moments of impatience myself, but racism is systemic and the issues are bigger than the fashion industry. However, I think the fashion industry has an opportunity, as such a central component of culture and influence, to lead the way in diversity and inclusion.
Shonagh: You touched upon the impatience felt by some. What was your response to the anti-racist messages shared by brands, publications, and individuals within the fashion industry over the last seven months? As you said, these are systemic issues prevalent within society and culture; what do you think the future holds for diversity and inclusion within fashion?
Chinazo: I didn't expect brands to jump on the bandwagon and make big statements in response to Black Lives Matter. I don't necessarily agree with that. For example when brands and individuals posted Black tiles on Instagram.
When I speak to my Black friends and other people of color within the industry about this, two camps emerge. Some people are frustrated because they feel the companies they work with aren't casting diverse models and they haven't made a statement on their social media platforms, such as Instagram, which are outward-facing actions.
Then there's another camp, which I feel part of, which focuses more on how businesses within the industry treat their people. That's something that the public can't always see; only the people who work within that company can see it. I don't want to know what you're doing on social media because I'll know what you're doing if the people I know who work within those environments feel safe, comfortable, and happy. There's no perfect world; there are many uncomfortable scenarios that will come up, but it is about knowing fashion businesses, or businesses in any industry, are open to listening and adapting to people within their workspaces, employees, and customers. I think that is the change that I want to see, although I know realistically, it’s not necessarily something that I will always be able to see.
When a brand didn't post on Instagram, I was okay with it—that's not what I personally needed from them. Many brands or individuals who have posted solidarity for Black Lives Matter and the anti-racist movement I know have done or turned a blind eye to awful things that have impacted their staff or wider workforce or community.
Posting a black tile was smoke and mirrors. It's largely marketing. It's a strange time now because when I'm looking at brands, and I notice they have not shared a statement of anti-racism, I wonder does that mean that they don't believe in being anti-racist? Or does it mean they don't want to jump on the bandwagon and they're doing work in the background?
Shonagh: Do you think fashion historically has fetishized Black women or people of color more generally?
Chinazo: There are different forms of fetishization, but I don't think anyone can deny it exist within the industry and the images created. I think back to even the images of Grace Jones, depicted as a Nubian queen. Dark skin, highly polished, statuesque female figure of strength, which continues to be replicated consistently throughout all forms of fashion media. While that's a beautiful example of dark skin representation, when trying to find someone who looks like me within a magazine, that's often the only representation I see.
It is changing from a beauty point of view; Black women have historically been used to highlight make-up color—yellow eyeshadow or orange lipstick. I'm not going to go to work made up like that. So there is fetishization within that space.
In addition to that, when we look at fast fashion brands, like Boohoo, Asos, and Missguided, they often depict mixed-race models who appear to present an ethnic ambiguity. It's so homogenous across all of those eCommerce platforms. A brand once said to me, "This girl is who I'm thinking of casting. I feel like she's quite ethnically ambiguous. And she can speak for multiple different races." She doesn't speak for lots of them, she speaks for her group, and that's it. We are conditioned as consumers to accept these things now, it's become the norm.
Shonagh: You spoke about how over the past decade, there has been a diversification of the people we see in fashion editorials, advertisements, on catwalks, and in the media. These images are marketing, and they are, for the most part, aspirational fantasies to sell something. You talked about how the real change will happen behind the scenes, within workplaces, and throughout the hierarchies that exist. Do you think employing people of color throughout the fashion industry will lead to real systemic change?
Chinazo: I 100% think that is the way that all of this will change. Diverse casting has been evident for a long time. Some brands have chosen to ignore it, and that’s problematic . But from a marketing point of view, the brands that have incorporated diverse casting are incredibly smart, especially if you are a global brand and create images that represent international audiences. The ethnic make-up of the British community alone is made up of many different races, sizes, and expressions of gender. I think casting is super essential; diverse casting is a no brainer. So if a brand hasn't been doing it, then there's a much bigger problem at play.
In terms of changing hierarchies to make sure there's more representation across every level within a business, that's paramount. For example, in the media there were stories about editorial images featuring a Black woman with afro hair and in the final photos her hair was photoshopped out because there wasn't a hair stylist on set that knew how to work with Black hair. Having someone of color, with influence, sitting around that table when you're going through the edits, or even planning the shoot, would have stopped that from happening.
Understandably, there will be situations where there won't be a person of color if it's a small team, for example. Hopefully, moving forward, one of the white people in the room will have been in an environment where there's been another person of color or someone who has bought a different perspective, and they can then use that experience. They can be that ally, to use a buzzword of 2020, and they can provide insight because they've learned it from somewhere else.
It would be great to have representation in every space in an ideal world, but realistically, that isn't going to happen. But if we can get representation in as many spaces as possible, it will allow and empower people of color to speak up because that's also part of the problem. There are many people of color within the industry. My priority is on making sure that there's an emphasis on beyond pipeline. For example, there are many people of color in middle-ranked jobs in the fashion industry who aren't moving up at the same pace as their white peers.. What are we doing for them? How are we making sure that they feel comfortable to speak up without impacting their progression? How are we making sure that they have someone to confide in and will be heard? How do we make sure that they're safe in their work environments?
Shonagh: I want to ask you more specifically about the podcast. I thought the episode on colorism was fascinating. In it, you focus on colorism within mainstream media and its existence in people of color's communities. After having that conversation on the podcast, why did you find that colorism existed?
Chinazo: It's historical; it goes back to colonialism. When you look at what is taught in British schools, there's a focus on how women walked with umbrellas to stay out of the sun in Victorian times. The paler you were, the richer you were. It's this archaic thinking that has somehow managed to persist within Black and brown communities. It's almost flipped in white communities; the darker you are, the richer you are, because you can afford to go on holiday or have a weekly spray tan!
It stems from colonialism because it wouldn't exist if these ideals were not transported from British culture and taken to Africa and Asia. I think the reason why it still exists today is that it's deep-rooted in history and culture. It's about proximity to whiteness; the lighter you are, the closer you are to being white, Western, and wealthy—bringing more opportunities and acceptance.
I learned so much about it by doing the episode. I'm so lucky that it doesn't exist in my close family; our skin color has always been celebrated. Hearing other people's experiences, especially Poorna Bell's direct experiences with her family members, was eye-opening.
Although I was never told that my dark skin was unattractive in my family, my hair was relaxed a couple of times, where toxic chemicals were put into my hair and onto my scalp. Relaxing hair is an example of that proximity to whiteness; it tries to get your hair to look more acceptable to the Western world.
Shonagh: I wanted to ask about the episode about rethinking nude. Could you explain what you explored in that episode?
Chinazo: That episode was a journey. I really wanted to talk about finding my perfect nude lipstick, which I struggled to do. So for me, it was a chance to talk about options or lack of options. But as the conversation progressed, it became about how colors and shades are communicated.
A beauty brand will share a lipstick on Instagram or in a newsletter and say it is the perfect nude—without thinking about what nude means. For me, nude is a multitude of things depending on what body area I'm trying to color match. My palms and nail beds are entirely different, the inside of my lip is different from the outside of my lip, and it is the same for white people. The contrast is so much more extreme for Black people.
The difficulty of trying to find my perfect nude progressed into a discussion around should we even use the word nude and how damaging is it? I wrote a story for The Telegraph about it where I explore this one nude fits all narrative. It is drilled into you from a young age; my brothers and I called the peachy pink crayon "the skin color" crayon when we were kids. I interviewed a psychologist for The Telegraph story, and she was horrified. I think she genuinely wanted to refer me to one of her colleagues.
Nude also comes into play in fashion with “nude” lined dresses and tops. There are times where I've cut out the lining, which at best looks ashy and at worst, looks like I'm wearing a peachy pink vest under a top. These nude color undergarments are such a normal thing that exists in the industry and the fact that some brands still call it “nude” is just wild to me.
Shonagh: Can you envisage a kind of fashion and beauty industry that could be deconstructed. Can you imagine a reframing of these compelling messages fashion employs to advocate for anti-racism and real equity?
Chinazo: The reason I found myself working in fashion in the first place is that I identify with the empowerment that a great dress or a pair of shoes can bring. I think it's incredible to create fantasies, I'm never going to say that fantasy shouldn't exist. We all grew up reading storybooks; we indulge in these dream-like worlds on TV shows and films that will never be a reality. But I think that fashion's role within that is to create obtainable aspirations. Rather than “wear this, and you'll be happy”; it's about promoting self-expression.
I think that the way that the fashion industry can impact change on society is by making sure that the images it creates are fully representative. It's not only about race, it's about size, it's about ability, it's about gender, it's about everything on every spectrum in a way that is relevant to the brand. You don't need to be posting Black Lives Matter on your Instagram feed when something happens because it's not relevant to what you're doing. What is relevant to what you're doing is selling things to women or men to make them feel good. Part of making them feel good is making them feel like part of your world, welcoming them into your business environment, within your retail environment.
Shonagh: My final question is, what would your fashion and beauty utopia be?
Chinazo: I think that everyone seems to have lost a sense of purpose and the focus is on capitalist gains and commercialization. The priority seems to be to make money and to get lots of Instagram followers and likes. My utopia would be to go back to the purpose of creating beauty and making people feel beautiful without actually destroying them internally at the same time as wrecking the planet.
I think fashion is a mode of art; it is a way to communicate; it's how we express ourselves. Brands have an opportunity to utilize their storytelling ability to communicate the messages that are integral to them. They don't need to create a T-shirt that says Black Lives Matter.
As a PR, I’ve read a lot of collection notes where designers set the scene about where they were and what they were thinking about when creating this collection. That is an opportunity for fashion to challenge these issues. An excellent example of this is Kerby Jean-Raymond in New York and the way he explores and celebrates Black American history through his collections. What he's done with Pyer Moss is the epitome of what brands should be doing, but doing it authentically because they actually care. Because they genuinely want to create something positive and also drive profits at the same time.
Let's be honest; the sustainable fashion industry has to be lucrative and growing—slowly. Sustainability from a business standpoint is making sure that your business will still be here in 5 years time, in 10 years. The pandemic has shown us that some finances haven’t been maintained in a way for businesses to be sustainable, combat adversity and continue to exist.