![]() | |
![]() |
![]() |
Nothing I've read about Lubna Khalid, whether it's regarding her former days as a model, her passion as a documentary filmmaker or the entrepreneurial acumen that made her one of the most successful South Asian businesswomen of the decade, prepares me for our first meeting. I walk into the cluttered industrial loft in Brooklyn that houses Real Cosmetics, her cosmetics line for women of color, and catch a glimpse of Khalid as she breezes past me. Only a former model could make an orange baby tee and black drawstring pants look that glamorous.
Khalid is preparing to move Real Cosmetics to Los Angeles, so our interview takes place amidst the clutter of a half-packed office as she tries to sell off her office furniture to other occupants in her building, directs a staff member to pack up one corner of the room and apologetically attempts to eat a slice of pizza at half past two. In between bites, Khalid manages to narrate the bits of her life that led to the creation of her company that has taken the cosmetics industry by storm.
To be or not to be exotic
The white/black dichotomy wasn't limited to the modeling industry, either. During her tenure on the catwalk, Khalid could never find the right shades of makeup to match her skin tone. Of course, no cloud comes without its silver lining, and Khalid's frustration has become brown women's gain. She noticed the lack of both cosmetics choices and positive media images of women of color and decided to fill the void herself. Today, her brainchild, Real Cosmetics, targets brown women from Latinas to African-Americans to Asian Americans, but it is designed especially for South Asian women. |
Above: Makeup artist Roque Cozzette and Real Cosmetics founder Lubna Khalid. |
The start of something real
But Khalid didn't achieve success overnight. She got her start the traditional way—through determination, hard work and experience. It all began while she was in college at Berkeley. There, some of her entrepreneurial spirit shined through: She started a nightclub in San Francisco and even brought in DJs from New York for the venture. Such experiences and her training in business landed her a stellar job, and after graduating with a degree in business and ethnic studies in 1997, Khalid joined Proctor and Gamble in San Francisco as an account manager. But working for someone else in the corporate world simply wasn't for her. So in 1999, at the not-so-ripe age of just 25, Khalid took a bold step. She partnered with Mexican American Berkeley classmate Anna Hernandez, and together the duo raised enough private funding to found the innovative company that has changed the landscape of the cosmetics industry. Khalid worked on the colors, and Hernandez promoted them. They named it Real Cosmetics—a tribute to the real women the line was aimed at. Creating Real Cosmetics wasn't easy. As a woman of color in business, Khalid encountered the requisite glass ceiling. She recalls an Indian man who put his feet on the desk, the soles of his shoes facing her, during an investment meeting. "As he did that he said, 'So, tell me about your business.' I said, 'I would love to, but first you tell me, do you put your feet up on the desk in all your meetings?' He quickly moved his feet and we then moved on. Can you believe it? Would he have done that to a man? To a white woman? I wonder," says Khalid.
Color yourself right
But such minor setbacks didn't faze Khalid—she just kept improving and nurturing her company. While working on product development, Khalid asked makeup artist Roque Cozzette, whom she'd known from her modeling days, to join the team. Cozzette helped Real Cosmetics create an all-inclusive range of colors. The results: 16 shades of liquid and powder foundation, and 16 shades of sheer, shimmer and semi-matte lipstick, each based on the skin tones of specific women of color. In a tribute to women of color and the places they enliven all over the world, the Real Cosmetics team named the foundations after cities such as Brooklyn, Madras, Havana and San Juan, while the lipsticks bear names such as Farah, Kaya and Saba. "Behind every product at Real Cosmetics is a real woman," explains Khalid. And as for the beauty maverick herself, Khalid's foundation of choice is Real Cosmetics' Delhi. But that's only if she's wearing any makeup at all. "I wear foundation and powder regularly, some lipstick, not much more," Khalid says modestly. As I'm trying to gauge which shade she's using at the moment, Khalid informs me that she's wearing no makeup whatsoever. It takes me a few moments to believe that her creamy skin and luminescent glow really is natural. But that's the point of Real Cosmetics, Khalid insists. The company's theme of going "Way Beyond Skin Deep" means just that. "I'm not here to tell women that they need to wear makeup. Women can choose to wear makeup or choose not to if they desire," she declares. "Customers email me and say, this company doesn't have my color so my skin tone must be abnormal. If someone thinks their skin is abnormal ... " Khalid trails off, shaking her head. "That's why my products affect women in general in a positive way. Before Real Cosmetics, these women didn't have many options."
According to Khalid, there is a lack of positive role models for women of color, and a large group of women of color, mostly Asian Americans, are ignored. But she's optimistic about the future, pointing out Real Cosmetics' growing presence in the media and its major triumph last year, when the line was picked up by Sephora stores and Sephora.com. She credits such successes to the unique mission of the company. "We transcend race, face and place by offering colors and images that speak to all women. I walk into a store and I see the diverse images that are out there that speak to all. It's really a much deeper concept than just makeup," Khalid says.
More than makeup
So what will this multi-talented makeup maven do next? "I'm still all over the place," Khalid says. Until her next project comes along, she'll continue product development for Real Cosmetics. With a hip new location in Los Angeles and plans to expand to a complete product line providing even more choices for women of color, Lubna Khalid is ready to paint her world—well, any shade she wants.
|
![]() |