Though grateful for his concern and support (Claude gave $100,000 to help start her label), an exasperated Reese, 42, replies, "I have a business. That is my big commitment." Her dedication has paid off: Her collections—the high-end Tracy Reese ($700 for a coat) and the more casual Plenty (priced from $90 to $350)—sold $20 million in 2005. This month she expands her home line and opens her first retail store in New York. So don't worry, Dad, she's more than making a living.
She's also making a little bit of fashion history. Reese is one of the very few female African-American designers whose creations have been featured in Vogue. "In an industry that does not often embrace black people, Tracy has broken a barrier," says Vogue editor-at-large André Leon Talley, who perched front row for Reese's Feb. 5 show at New York City's Fashion Week. She is among the few black designers—male or female—regularly showing at Fashion Week. "If they say you could only go to one show, Tracy Reese would be it," says actress Garcelle Beauvais-Nilon.
High-end retailers love her too. "She never disappoints her customers," says Gerry Fagan, fashion director of Bloomingdale's. "They are always anxious to see what she's doing next season." This season it's more bright florals, "not for a minimalist," says Reese.
"Hers are 'reality check' clothes with sophistication," says Talley. Reese plays down the impact of being a lone black woman in the trade's upper echelon. Still, she allows that her presence "is helpful for young people—to know it's possible for them."
As a girl in Detroit, she didn't have that inspiration. "I didn't think I would be a designer because I didn't think it was a serious profession." But she did love to sew. At 10, "Tracy could make doll clothes out of one sleeve of an old sweater," says mom Patricia, a modern dance instructor. With Michael Jackson on the stereo, they would race to finish an outfit first. Says Patricia: "She usually beat me."
After a summer in New York City, Reese returned to attend Parsons School of Design. There, she and classmate Marc Jacobs became fast friends: "We were both passionate about work," says Jacobs. "And we laughed at the same stupid lines in movies."
In 1987, three years after graduating, Reese started her first line; it went bust after only 18 months. "I was eating Rolaids for lunch and dinner," she says. Jacobs, running Perry Ellis, soon hired her as a designer. After later becoming design director at Magaschoni, Reese went out on her own again in 1997. She teamed with accountant Om Batheja, who suggested manufacturing her intricate beaded and embroidered pieces in his native India. And now, says Reese, "here we are today, a nice, steady growth."
Despite the flourishing business, "my dad won't let me pay him back," she says. "His biggest gift was allowing me the choice to do my own thing." And yet they can't let some things alone. "My mom was trying to fix me up for a while," says Reese, smiling at the memory of some wrong matches. Dad, obviously proud, hopes "she finds that balance."
- Contributors:
- Kelly Carter/New York City.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
