Key Takeaways:
In recent years, the global beauty industry has celebrated a wave of Black-founded brands. These innovative companies challenged industry norms while spotlighting identities long ignored. Yet, for many of these founders, visibility comes with a burden: the assumption that if a brand is Black-led, it must exist solely “for Black consumers.” That framing is often echoed by investors, retailers, and even consumers themselves, threatening to narrow Black founders’ vision before it has a chance to flourish.
The irony, of course, is that the Black community has always driven global beauty culture. From haircare innovation to skincare rituals, Black consumers have shaped trends and created solutions that later became mainstream. They represent one of the industry’s fastest growing and most influential segments. In the United States alone, according to NielsenIQ, Black consumers’ spending on beauty products totaled $9.4 billion in 2023, accounting for 14.4% of the US population —a 32% increase since 2000. And yet, Black brands capture only a fraction of that spend. Founders argue that this disconnect is not due to a lack of demand, but a persistent stereotyping that sees Black-founded brands as “specialty” or “niche,” rather than as universal category leaders.
Launching Against Expectations
For founders, this tension is apparent from day one. “When my husband and I launched Beards & Beyond, I definitely felt that unspoken pressure—that a Black-owned grooming brand should only serve Black men,” co-founder of men’s grooming line LP Crockett, said to BeautyMatter. “But from the very beginning, Malcolm and I knew our brand had to be bigger than that. Our heritage and culture are our foundation, but we wanted to create something that went beyond boundaries,” she continued.
That duality of celebrating identity while refusing to be boxed in runs through many founders’ stories. Sloane Stephens, tennis champion and founder of wellness brand Doc & Glo, echoed the same sentiment. “When I launched Doc & Glo, there was definitely an awareness that people might expect me to position the brand solely as ‘by and for Black consumers.’ But from the start, my vision was broader—wellness that meets people wherever they are,” Stephens told BeautyMatter.
Even in categories like haircare where racialized marketing has been most popular, founders push back against restrictive labels. The co-founders of Donna’s Recipe, Tabitha Brown and Gina Woods, were intentional about building a universal message. “From the beginning, we focused on texture, not race. That’s why we intentionally launched with two products that could be embraced by all textures,” Woods said. “Our brand was created to bring more joy to the haircare experience, no matter your race or nationality.”
For many entrepreneurs, the challenge is not balancing identity and universality, but in rejecting the idea that these are opposites. Shaina Rainford, founder of Bask & Lather Co., put it simply. “I don’t see it as an either/or. It’s both. My roots and inspiration are deeply personal and tied to my family’s story, and I will always celebrate that heritage,” the founder told BeautyMatter. “But hair and scalp health are not confined to one community. By staying true to where we came from while developing products that are clinically effective and results-driven, we naturally cross demographics.”
Tomara Watkins, President of Buttah Skin, rejects the notion of a balancing act altogether. “Black culture is universal—it shapes music, language, food, fashion, beauty. People may cherry-pick the pieces they want, but the truth is, it resonates across demographics.” That universality is already reflected in consumer response. “Many non-Black consumers discover us because they’re experiencing thinning, shedding, or scalp issues, which are universal concerns,” Rainford explained. “We don’t have to educate differently; we just emphasize that scalp care is the foundation of healthy hair, regardless of hair type or texture.”
Still, as Watkins pointed out, systemic double standards persist. “Too often, consumers don’t ask those same questions of mainstream beauty businesses, even though those organizations routinely exclude our needs and experiences. Yet the moment Black and Brown faces lead the story, the question becomes ‘Is this brand just for them?’ That double standard, both external and internalized, is exactly why Buttah exists.”
The “Sellout” Narrative
As Black beauty brands grow and attract investor attention, another burden arises—the accusation of “selling out,” pushed in part, and largely, by the Black community. Founders are quick to challenge this premise. “To me, expansion isn’t selling out, it’s scaling impact,” said Crockett. “Our mission is rooted in creating generational wealth, opportunities, and representation. If a partnership or acquisition allows us to amplify that on a larger scale, then it’s growth, not betrayal,” she continued.
Rainford took a similar stance. “Scaling or exiting isn’t selling out, it’s leveling up. It’s about creating longevity, more jobs, and a wider impact. If the mission and integrity of the brand remain intact, then growth is not abandonment, it’s success.”
Watkins was blunt about the double standard. “When White male founders sell their companies for massive sums, they’re praised as strategic and visionary. We should be viewed the same way. Selling a company doesn’t make a founder a ‘sellout.’ It makes them a business leader making choices for sustainability, investors, and their own families.”
At Donna’s Recipe, Woods emphasized nuance. “We have to recognize that Black business doesn’t have to look just one way. Some companies are built to become legacy brands, passed down from generation to generation, while others are created with a plan for an eventual exit. We need to give space for both models because if we only operate in one way, we limit the possibilities for our community.”
Despite challenges, though, there is progress. Retailers like Ulta Beauty and Sephora have expanded their Black-owned brand initiatives, and acquisitions like Procter & Gamble’s 2022 purchase of Mielle Organics highlight the market value of Black-founded companies. But industry inequities remain. A 2022 McKinsey report found that Black brands account for only 2.5% of total beauty industry revenue, despite outsized cultural and consumer influence.
Rewriting the Narrative
“We’re still too often placed in ‘ethnic’ sections or treated as add-ons instead of anchors,” said Crockett. “Black beauty brands have proven time and again that we set trends, drive culture, and innovate at the highest level.” For Stephens, more Black-founded brands breaking into major retailers and leading in innovation is a powerful statement, although the industry still too often treats Black beauty as an add-on, instead of acknowledging it as central to beauty and wellness culture.
For the founders, the narrative around what Black-founded brands should be viewed as is simple. Watkins believes that the conversation must move beyond identity alone. “Too often, when we talk about Black beauty, we focus on aesthetics, visuals, or cultural relevance—which matter, but aren’t enough to determine whether a company will still be standing in 10, 20, or 30 years. Black beauty is a multibillion-dollar global business, not just a niche or a moment.”
Others frame it more boldly. “I would rewrite it to say ‘Black beauty is not a niche, it’s the blueprint,’” said Crockett. “It’s innovative, global, luxurious, and deeply rooted in heritage. It doesn’t just serve one audience—it inspires the world.” For Stephens, it’s about reframing limitations into possibilities. “I would reframe it as excellence, innovation, and leadership. ‘Black beauty’ isn’t a subcategory; it’s beauty. It’s culture. It’s history and future all at once.”
Black beauty founders are not just filling gaps in a broken system; they are redefining the very structure of the beauty business. They carry the dual burden of representing communities that built the culture, while fending off stereotypes that seek to confine them. Yet their vision is expansive, their impact measurable, and their ambition unapologetically global.
The question is not whether Black beauty brands can compete universally; they already do. The question is whether the industry can dismantle the biases that keep these brands boxed in. As Crockett so eloquently put it, “True success is when your community sees you as a reflection of possibility, while the world recognizes you as a brand worth following.”
