The fashion industry has been slow to embrace black beauty. But that's changing and black Irish models are making their mark, writes Eoin Lyons
Fashion often boasts of its quest for individuality, yet when it comes to models, many designers, magazines and cosmetic companies seem reluctant to work with non-Caucasian "faces". Quirky beauty is fine; just make it white, please.
Whatever the reason, the fashion industry seems to have little confidence in black models. The last US Vogue non-celebrity black cover model was Uganda-born Kiara Kabakuru way back in July 1997.
Everyone knows about Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks, but the list of black models currently working at big shows in Paris, Milan and New York - or starring in high-profile ad campaigns - is extremely short. Sudanese Alek Wek, Nigerian Oluchi Onweagba, American Debra Shaw and French Naomi Lenoir. And that's more or less it.
But something interesting happened two weeks ago. Estée Lauder, the conservative American cosmetic giant, announced that model newcomer Liya Kebede, a 23-year-old Ethiopian, is to join Elizabeth Hurley and Carolyn Murphy in adverts for fragrance, cosmetic and skincare products.
Kebede is the first black face of Estée Lauder. Even Naomi Campbell, at the height of her career 10 years ago, failed to bag a cosmetics contract, the big earner all models strive towards.
"Liya is the definition of modern beauty," says Patrick Bousquet-Chavanne, group president of Estée Lauder. But considering it's almost three decades since Beverly Johnson became the first black model to make the cover of Vogue in 1974, it seems strange that using a black woman to sell lipstick is considered "out there" and oh-so- progressive.
Beautiful, a new three-part BBC2 series scheduled for next month, examines why black women have been marginalised in fashion for so long, and traces the lives of prominent black women such as Iman and Grace Jones.
"Magazines still trot out the old line that when they put a black model on the cover, sales go down," says Monique de Villiers, assistant producer of Beautiful. "My answer is: 'Put a black model on the September cover of Vogue. Trust me, it will still sell because that's always been the biggest selling issue of the year. I truly believe people don't care, they'll buy it anyway."
Somebody must care, but it may simply be a case of majority rules: magazine publishers believe most women who buy designer clothes are white. As a result, white models are popular because they shift a lot of outfits.
"I know fashion has financial responsibilities, but I think there's a moral responsibility too - to reflect society," says de Villiers. "Young girls who don't see themselves reflected in fashion imagery feel that they don't belong or are not accepted. Black women buy fashion and magazines, so they should be represented."
Unlike the "super" variety featured in the TV programme, modelling ordinaire features women who do less glamorous work and earn a regular wage. Among them, black models are also rare. Often when they do pop up, it's for billboard or TV advertising aimed at a youth market, influenced by black musical role models or mass-market store catalogue. In Ireland, there are few black models.
One of the most popular is 23-year-old Lynn Mpagi, who came here two years ago from Stockholm. "The Irish fashion industry has been very good to me. I model mostly for fashion shows, but as far as magazines are concerned, there's very little of that kind of work here anyway, for any type of girl. It is such a small market that it's just too much to expect magazines to feature black models every month! As more affluent coloured people come into the country, things will change, I hope. There's certainly room for more colour." Image is one Irish magazine that features black women quite frequently. The past few months have seen a Catherine Condell shoot with Clara Benjamin, a black model from London; a fashion story featuring Samantha Mumba; photographs of Nana Oforiata-Ayium, originally from Ghana and, in the upcoming July issue, a black girl and a white girl photographed together in the Caribbean.
"It's assumed that women prefer to see clothes on women who they aspire to look like. In the West, that mostly means white," says Sarah McDonnell, editor of Image.
"We have featured black models, sometimes as cover girls, as far back as 1987. For me, it's less about colour and more about the model that works best with the clothes and mood of the shoot. If the face fits, we book her."
Unlike models on other agencies' books, Lynn earns her living solely from modelling, which suggests Ireland has a pretty open-minded market. "In a way, the fact that I am different works to my advantage," she says. "For fashion shows I'm booked to add an exotic element."
Exotic is a word often used to describe black models. In the third programme of Beautiful, Iman, who started modelling in the 1970s, comments: "I get so bored the way everyone says 'You're so exotic'. What am I? A mango? If the standard of beauty was black, I wouldn't be exotic."
Does Lynn find the term "exotic" insulting too? "Not really. I don't take it personally. Black or white, the day you take anything personally in modelling is the day to get out." Faith Barnett (23) agrees. She has modelled for six years and is with the First Option Model Agency. Her father is English and black; her mother Irish and white.
"Being black shouldn't be a cop-out for not being a successful model," she says. "There are plenty of reasons a model might not do well. I've never had any negativity towards me and I don't think anyone really cares. There are plenty of clients that have booked me because music stars have made black cool. It's a great thing for advertisers to tap into."
Tapping into black beauty is one thing but, as Beautiful describes, until the Black Is Beautiful movement of the 1970s, black stars such as The Supremes were groomed, their hair straightened, to Western standards. After that, things were shaken up a little and the Afro came into vogue.
Today the most revolutionary image of black beauty is Alek Wek, who took part in February's Brown Thomas charity show. Her features are so resolutely African - sometimes hard for mainstream fashion to embrace - that it's all the more unusual to see her frequently on the pages of Vogue.
But, says Faith: "It's a drop in the ocean. Look at Halle Berry in Hollywood. It takes a long time for things to change."
