Hermes Doesn't Need Your Money

A few years back, I was attending a work event where everyone was dressed to the nines. Louis Vuitton scarves. Dior bags. Gucci heels. And jewelry so shiny, it was blinding.

But for every fabulous, fashionable, glamour puss, there was someone engaging in what I call "Uptown NASCAR." That's where you wear all your oversized logos and labels at once, whether they go together or not, to show that you can afford said labels. It's not the most creative look, but it is a look.

As I was chatting with a Black woman who was sporting her Gucci T-shirt with a Louis tote, a Fendi scarf, and a Chanel pin, she asked me where I got my outfit, a chic, monochrome set I put together myself. I happily told her I was wearing mostly Black and American designers, including a bag by Ree Projects and earrings by Khiry. Her response was interesting, to say the least.

"Oh, I've been meaning to get more into Black designers," she said. "They're so much cheaper."

Eye meet roll.

As someone who has befriended multiple Black designers and covered their struggles to be treated with the same respect and investment as their white counterparts, the sentiment frustrated me. Especially hearing it come from a Black woman.

But Uptown NASCAR isn't the only person who thinks this way. It's a common problem where Black customers expect more of a Black business for less, while dropping thousands on their white counterparts who shutter their stores rather than let you shop in them.

Even if you're Oprah. Even if you're Savannah James.

Fashion is top of mind right now because it's September, and soon New York Fashion Week will be upon us. From September 8th until the 15th, the city will be inundated with fashion shows, news, events, and more as designers show off their wares for Spring/Summer 2027. Celebrity sightings will abound. Real Housewives and other notables will show up front row for the likes of Pamella Roland or Badgley Mischka. And there's always a chance Beyoncé might grace us with her presence.

But the events I've always looked forward to the most are the ones hosted by us—from the always-buzzy Harlem's Fashion Row show, which I've attended several times in the past, to Claire Sulmers' Fashion Bomb Daily events. In fact, Sulmers, who started her blog a year before I started The Black Snob, is celebrating her platform's 20th anniversary with a huge NYFW brunch.

I celebrate and honor their work because it's vital. Black fashion is art. Black fashion is culture. Black fashion is the blueprint of so many trending styles and looks. It's bad enough when the mainstream wants to relegate us to the sale rack, but for our own people to look for the discount when it comes to Black designers is upsetting, especially when we should know better.

The irony of my conversation with Uptown NASCAR was that she, like most professional Black women, was fighting to be recognized in her workplace. She already knows how insidious discrimination and microaggressions can be. She knew what it was like to be a "lonely only" in a high-profile role. Yet she, and some Black women just like her, want to nickle and dime Black designers, ignoring how most are trying to make it in an industry where they have no wealthy benefactor, family money, investor, or partner, unlike their white counterparts.

Some Black people will happily spend $3,000 or more in a store that barely wants Black people to buy their wares, but they'll toss Black designers, who want to dress and style Black women, pennies and expect them to be grateful. It's a self-inflicted wound on the community, rooted in the belief that Black means lesser or "inferior." After all, what I was wearing that day didn't feature C-H-A-N-E-L in large letters, letting the world know I could afford Chanel. It was just a flattering, well-made outfit. She had no idea the Khiry earrings were real gold or that the Ree Projects handbag was high-quality Italian leather. And it didn't matter to her that her Louis tote was made from canvas, or that her designer earrings were not real gold. It only mattered that she'd spent enough on designer to have the privilege of advertising it.

Earlier this August, Savannah James, wife of NBA star LeBron James, made headlines when she told the Question Everything podcast she was turned away by an Hermes store in Milan. The salesperson wouldn't let her in and actually closed the store rather than honor the appointment she'd made. While things were rectified after she reached out to management (the offending clerk who locked her out was subsequently fired), Hermes wasn't the only one messing up during James' European jaunt. In fact, she had a similar experience at Chanel.

I love clothes, a lot. And I've owned my fair share of designer. But I love us more.

Because of this, my closet over-indexes on smaller labels, American brands, and, yes, Black designers. While I used to own a fun Gucci tote and will occasionally rock my matching Gucci platform tennis shoes, I have about a dozen different leather Coach, Marc Jacobs, Michael Kors, and Tory Burch bags, alongside jewelry from Soul Gems by Maria or Jam+Rico; and clothing by Aisha McShaw, Fe Noel, JUNNY NYC, Diarrablu, ISRAELLA KOBLA, and Good American. I also started collecting Brandon Blackwood bags and own scarves by Sheila Bridges. They're among my favorites alongside a prized beaded clutch by One of Each, gifted to me by a friend.

If I'm going to blow a few grand on clothes, bags, and shoes, I always prefer to spend with a Black designer first. It's not that I'll turn down some Hermes or Dior. But those brands don't need me. And depending on how racist the sales clerk is, they'll happily show me how much I'm not needed.

But Black designers see me. Regardless of my status or wealth. Regardless of my size or skin color. So next time you're considering making a luxury purchase, wanting to splurge on something unique, consider the Black designers I linked to above. The care and quality they put into their pieces are worth investing in. Don't sell them cheap because their logos aren't in French in 100-point font across your chest.

After all, if you're dressing to impress, you want to look rich with taste. And that's one thing the most imitated, but never duplicated, Black designers are in no shortage of.