How would you describe your personal style? Whether it’s a steady rotation of sheath dresses (me!) or a power pantsuit (what’s up, Hillary?), what you wear says a LOT about you. And if colorful, creative African prints are your thing, then you’ll definitely want to check out A Leap of Style.
Founded by Houston designer Karissa Lindsay in 2013, A Leap of Style began with a love of fashion and a dream. But before she took a leap of faith and kickstarted her career as a fashion designer (literally), Karissa first discovered her passion in middle school.
“My mom was a hardcore shopper, and I inherited her love for beautiful things at an early age,” she explains. “I still have one of my first sketch books from high school when I was really certain I’d pursue a career in design.”
After trading a “ridiculous relationship for an awesome relationship with Christ,” Lindsay turned lemons into lemonade and began designing the beautiful, bold African pieces her fans (myself included) have come to know and love.
Get to know more about Karissa below:
I absolutely love the name of your company! What was the inspiration behind it?
The name A Leap of Style has a kind of two-part meaning. First and foremost, there is the obvious play on the phrase “a leap of faith.” Everything about this business has been small and huge leaps of faith for me. From my first fashion presentation to getting into my first boutique three months in and leaving my career in education to pursue design full-time – it’s all been by faith. Secondly, it takes a little bit of risk to wear a bold print. Black is comfortable and safe, as are other solids. Fashion magazines warn us against wearing stripes in the wrong direction, but they’re fairly safe as well. But an African print? You will stand out, so you’ve got to be ready to take a leap of style.
So true! Your designs are not for the faint of heart. What’s your personal design philosophy?
My design philosophy is rooted in my personal mission and that is to empower and inspire women through fashion. I believe the best way to do that is to design clothing that makes women feel powerful, yet definitely feminine and beautiful. I’m always concerned about the fit of a garment and whether we can get it perfect for our customers – I want every piece to be as flattering as possible. I think that makes the most difference in something you’d buy at Target versus buying from a small business like A Leap of Style. We’re more concerned with getting fit and quality right than with producing en masse.
Amen to that! And I can personally attest to this philosophy after receiving so many compliments whenever I wear your Rules of Engagement Dress.
What challenges did you have to overcome to make your dream come true?
I’ve got to be honest in that there are many challenges I have to overcome daily in this journey. I think so many entrepreneurs put out this message that you just get your freedom and go live your dream and you live happily ever after. And in the short of it, that is true to an extent. I battle with uncertainty and fear all the time. I’m open about that because I don’t think enough people in business are. People ask me how do I deal with the haters, and I tell them, the biggest hater you have to deal with is yourself. To believe in yourself and your product to this insane level that you just know you will succeed is the thing that will help you rise above any challenge. Working on that mindset is the greatest challenge for me.
Most definitely. Sometimes you’re your own worst enemy. What keeps you going when you feel like giving up?
My faith definitely keeps me going. I really believe that I’m living out my life’s purpose through this business. I’ve been able to impact so many people along the way and that keeps me going. I have several women who I mentor in some capacity and knowing that they are both empowered and inspired by me is often enough to reenergize myself. If I didn’t believe in God and that He’s given me a purpose, I probably would have given up. On the “practical side,” if I need to recenter myself, I go back to my goals and data and work on what will make the numbers move. Emotions lie, but numbers don’t. So if I can work the numbers, it brings me back into the work of it all and not the feeling of wanting to give up.
That’s wonderful. What advice do you have for aspiring entrepreneurs?
I’m a huge believer that you’ve got to at least take a step first to see if your idea will work and then persist at it. So my first piece advice is to just get started! Don’t sit on your ideas. The second thing I’d tell an aspiring entrepreneur is to connect with like-minded people whether they are mentors or colleagues. Find the people who are skills in the areas you’re lacking and get their input.
Great advice! What words of wisdom would you share with yourself five years ago?
Ha! So much! Five years ago, I was 25 and on the cusp of a quarter-life crisis. I wish I’d known then that it was okay to take more risks and that I really could build a life I enjoyed through my creativity. I wish I’d known that once I really started using my gifts, I’d be 100x happier. I wouldn’t have spent so much time in a career that seemed right, but didn’t drive me.
To learn more about Karissa and see her latest collection, visit aleapofstyle.com.
We’ve all been there — walking down the street, minding your own business when out of the blue you receive unwanted attention. Whether it’s a catcall or blatant attempt at groping, you’re suddenly faced with a decision: stand up for yourself and risk confrontation or ignore it and … also risk confrontation.
You see, there’s no “easy out” for women. We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t speak out against street and/or sexual harassment.
Take, for example, the story about Tiarah Payouh, the 22-year old graduate student at St. John’s University who was recently slain for telling a man–who was grinding against her at a music festival without her consent–to get off her. Shot at point-blank range. For defending herself and the right to her body.
Let that sink in for a moment.
This young woman, full of so much potential whose hopes and dreams of becoming an accountant, was KILLED for saying NO. What the actual hell?!
When I first stumbled about Tiarah’s story on Facebook, I gasped. My breath was taken away because just a few months ago I’d rejected a man’s unwanted advances as I was walking to the bus stop and saw a man reach for my arm as he he tried to holler at me. I yanked my arm away and yelled “don’t touch me.”
It was a visceral reaction. I didn’t think anything of it. I saw him reach for me and I was NOT having it. So I said something. It never crossed my mind that that moment, that decision could have cost me my life.
But this is a reality that women are faced with every. single. day. Say something and risk consequences or suffer in silence to increase the odds of safety. It’s a lose-lose situation. A situation that wouldn’t even exist if these so-called men didn’t feel entitled to a woman’s body and their fragile male egos didn’t crumble when faced with rejection.
I’m not a psychologist or therapist or any licensed professional who can speak to people’s psyches. But I do know this: we need to treat each other with respect. We need to respect one another’s bodies. We need to respect a person’s right to say no. We need respect. And we need to stop blaming victims and hold the aggressors accountable. Simply put, we need to do better.
Don’t let Tiarah Poyau and others like her die in vain. It could have been any of us, but it should be none of us.
As the 2016 Summer Olympics come to a close, I can’t help but feel like this has been the Blackest Olympics yet. No, I don’t have stats to prove this, but it just feels right.
From Simone Biles, Gabby Douglas and Simone Manuel taking gold in their respective sports to Michelle Carter making shot put history and Brianna Rollins, Nia Ali and Kristi Castlin forming the first US women’s sweep in 100-meter hurdles, this year’s Olympics have been full of #BlackGirlMagic. And I couldn’t be more excited!
Four years ago, I wrote about why Gabby Douglas is a BFD. As the first
Black woman to earn the all-around gymnastics competition, she inspired a whole new generation of little Black girls to go after their dreams, whether it was gymnastics, world records or personal bests. Sure, when I was growing up, there was Dominique Dawes, but there’s been a bit of a drought between her reign and Gabby’s.
Now there are TWO Black girls on the U.S. women’s team, a Hispanic girl AND a Jewish girl. To paraphrase a certain presidential candidate, “this is HUGE!” While watching the team compete, I told my husband this is a big deal for Black girls everywhere.
There’s a saying that “you can’t be what you don’t see.” And while some people have the gumption to become the first Black/woman [insert occupation/record here], there are some who need to see it to believe it.
I have a Facebook friend whose daughter, also named Simone, is OBSESSED with Simone Biles. My friend posted a video of her daughter, a young Black girl, prancing around in her leotard while the elder Simone was doing her thing on the TV in the background. I cried.
This is why representation is so important. It opens doors and minds to possibilities. Here’s a little girl who sees herself reflected in her favorite sport and who knows that she can someday become the best gymnast in the world.
Same for the little Black girls watching Simone Manuel dominate the 100-meter and become the first Black woman to earn a gold medal in an individual swimming event, which is perhaps even more significant because of the historic racism Black people have faced when it comes to public swimming areas. Don’t believe me? Check out this article about the time a hotel drained an ENTIRE pool because actress Dorothy Dandridge dipped ONE toe in. This is why representation matters.
And I bet there are people who didn’t even know Black women competed in shot put (myself included). Michelle Carter represents for not only Black women, but full-figured women. And looks damn good doing so, might I add. I mean, do you really want to get on a shot putter’s bad side? I didn’t think so.
And last, but certainly not least, the image of Brianna Rollins, Nia Ali and Kristi Castlin up on that podium with their medals while the national anthem played? Priceless. Pure #BlackGirlMagic.
I can only imagine the number of young Black girls inspired by these athletes and I can’t wait to see them go after their own gold medals someday. I’ll be cheering them on, too. Because until there’s a day when there’s no longer a first Black or woman whatever, representation will ALWAYS matter.
As a Maryland girl through and through, I’ve been rooting for Michael Phelps, the most decorated Olympian of all time, since pretty much forever.
Earlier this week, Phelps was determined to beat Chad Le Clos of South Africa in the men’s 200m butterfly final and, as a surprise to virtually no one, he did and earned his 20th gold medal. I was beaming and also wondering if he secretly wants to yell “O” during the national anthem, a tribute to our beloved Baltimore Orioles and a time-honored Maryland tradition.
The next day, a picture surfaced of Le Clos turning to look at Phelps during the race while Phelps was looking straight ahead. The lesson here for all of us, Olympians and mere humans alike?
Stay in your own lane. Literally.
Did glancing over at Phelps cause Le Clos to lose the race? The world may never know, but it certainly didn’t help. When you’re focused on your own lane, you’re not worrying about everyone else. You’re essentially competing against yourself, your personal best. And that, honestly, is the way it should be.
But I can admit, I’ve often fallen victim to doing the same as Le Clos, especially when it comes to blogging. She has a million followers, she’s making a six-figure income, she’s getting all these endorsements AND a book deal…what about me?!
What about you, boo?
As my mom constantly told me growing up, “what’s meant for you, nobody can take away.” And, to be perfectly honest, the blogging about blogging, the how-to-make-money-off-your-blog posts? That’s never been me, will never be me, and that’s okay.
But despite writing about social media comparison over and over, sometimes I can’t help myself and I don’t practice what I preach. And then I scold myself because I know better, but I do it anyway.
I fangirl over bloggers and writers I love in the same way normal people idolize Beyonce (don’t believe me? Check out this post where I met Awesomely Luvvie and Afrobella IRL). But Queen Bey isn’t real. I mean, she is, but she isn’t. She’s not attainable. Meanwhile, my blogger and journalist girl crushes are actual human beings.
Lately, I’ve been obsessed with Elaine Welteroth, the editor-in-chief of Teen Vogue. Why? Well, she pretty much has my dream job. Ever since I was a young girl, I’ve wanted to be EIC of a teen mag and Elaine and I have a few similarities: we’re both Black (she’s biracial), we both worked for the same magazine (albeit at different times) and we’re both 29 (okay, I turn 29 in two months). But still: I am Elaine. Elaine is me. She’s a constant reminder of what could have been had I not called it quits in journalism. Could I be EIC of Teen Vogue if I’d stayed the course? We’ll never know. But sometimes, late at night when the rest of the world is sleeping, I do wonder. What if?
On the surface, I appear to be a confident and successful women with a great career, a wonderful husband and a pretty awesome life. All of those are true. But I’m also human and I sometimes deal with the same fears, doubts and insecurities as everyone else: Do I matter? Am I good enough? Well I ever accomplish anything great?
I am queen of the one-woman pity parties (bless my husband and fellow blogger friends for not indulging me, but trying to talk some sense into me). Like my friend Melissa Kimble, founder of #blkcreatives and social media whiz extraordinaire. After a particularly pathetic pity party (try saying that 10 times fast), she texted me perhaps the best pep talk ever, so much so I took a screenshot to save for those very moments when I’m feeling down on myself.
The line that struck me the most was “You can only get to your next level by being you, not anyone else.” Yes, I’m aware this is basically what my mom has been telling me all along, but it’s different when it comes from your peers. Don’t judge me.
That same day, I stumbled across a speech by Oprah at this year’s Essence Fest. Now, I don’t claim to be Mama O’s biggest fan, but this right here? Insert ALL the praise hand emojis.
“You don’t get what you wish for, you don’t get what you hope for. You get what you believe. So what is it you believe to be God’s dream for you?”
What is God’s dream for me? I’m still not really sure. But I know I won’t get there by constantly comparing myself to other people. I’m a gifted writer and my superpower is empowering women through storytelling. That is my lane. And I’m sticking to it.
You wouldn’t know it judging by my recent #BlackLivesMatter and #BlackGirlMagic Facebook posts and tweets, but there was a time not so long ago that I was ashamed of being Black.
I’ll spare you the details, but growing up, I’d pray to God to make me White so I could be as beautiful as the skinny White pop stars who graced the covers of the teen magazines I read religiously. Obviously, you can see that didn’t happen and I couldn’t be happier.
One of my college friends has noted that I’ve gotten sassier in my older, but it’s probably because I’m more “woke,” which for those of you who don’t know has been defined by Dictionary.com as being “activelyawareofsystemicinjusticesandprejudices,especiallythoserelatedtocivilandhumanrights.”
I’ve always been aware of these injustices, but have only recently started to be as vocal about them on this blog and my various social media platforms. Why? Because I have a platform and I’m going to use it, dammit.
First, Queen Bey dropped “Formation” aka the official Black Girl anthem out of NOWHERE. And White America realized for the first time that Beyonce is, in fact, Black. Lest anyone get confused by her light complexion and honey-blonde weaves, she let the world know “My daddy Alabama. Mama Louisiana. You mix that Negro with the Creole, make a Texas bama.”
I kid you not, I probably watched that video about 10 times on repeat when it came out. The cinematography alone was #Flawless (not to mention the wardrobe, the hairstyles and the choreography). From the opening scene with Beyonce atop a submerged police cruiser to the image of a young Black boy dancing in front of a row of police officers who surrendered to him in a hoodie no less with the phrase “Stop Shooting Us” in the background, “Formation” was LIT. And to make matters even better, Beyonce performed “Formation” live at the Super Bowl the very next day. Bow down.
Then Kendrick Lamar came through the Grammys and brought the house down with a political statement about incarceration and Black men.
On Facebook, one of my White friends called his performance “scary.” Why? Because there’s a free Black man speaking out on a national platform about the injustices he faces on a routine basis because of the color of his skin?? I respect Kendrick because, unlike a lot of artists, he uses his platform to speak out on important issues and doesn’t shy away from controversy.
And then, there were the Obamas celebrating what was most likely the Blackest Black History Month that the White House had ever seen, complete with an HBCU marching band (shout-out to my sister’s alma mater, Morgan State University!), step team and EVERYTHING! It was glorious.
Anywho, these epic moments set us up for what Luvvie refers to as the Blackest year on record. Please refer to the list below.
In April, Beyonce surprised us all with the feature premiere of her second visiual album, Lemonade, on HBO. And it was every bit of #BlackGirlMagic you’d expect it to be.
Despite claims of Jay Z cheating (did or didn’t he?) and speculation regarding the identity of “Becky with the good hair,” Lemonade was an ode to Black women everywhere.
And that was just the beginning…
See something, say something
In my personal life, I noticed a lack of diversity on two different panels within months of each other and spoke out about them. I just don’t understand how, in 2016, in Chicago of all places, there’s a blatant lack of diversity on panels about media.
Editorial board panel representing most of the mainstream media outlets in Chicago? Old, White men.
Women in media panel? Funny how it was only straight, White women and I know this because I’m Facebook friends with all of them.
Once upon a time, I would have just let it go and chalked it up to ignorance on behalf o the organizers. But 2016 L’Oreal was all “NOPE.” It’s like the TSA security message: when I see something, I say something. As a result, I now sit on committees for both of those organizations because it’s hard to have a voice at the table when you don’t have a seat at the table. Not invited? Invite yourself.
This summer, my high school (an all-girls mostly all-White Catholic high school, mind you) asked me to change the wording in my personal essay (ironically about finding my voice) in the alumnae magazine from “skinny White pop stars” to “unrealistic pop stars” and “feminist” to “strong feminine leader.” I was NOT having it, so I fought back (politely, of course, because politics).
Listen, I get that your demographic and donors may be “uncomfortable” with race, but I’m not going to censor myself to make them feel better about themselves. It’s not that that pop starts I admired were unrealistic (Beyonce is unrealistic, but at least we’re both Black), it’s that the fact that they were White and I did not see myself reflected in mainstream media. Representation matters, y’all. Also, feminism is not a dirty word. Long story short, they ended up keeping the original wording. #SmallVictories
Truth is, I’m not the timid, token Black girl I used to be. I have opinions and I have a voice and I’m willing to use it to fight for what I believe in.
Just because we’re magic, doesn’t mean we’re not real
Then there was the BET Awards in June. I’d mostly tuned in to see BET do justice with a proper Prince tribute after the Billboard Awards failed miserably. But when the show opened with Beyonce and Kendrick performing “Freedom,” I knew this year’s show was going to be different.
Later in the show, Greys Anatomy actor and activist Jesse Williams delivered an EPIC speech after accepting the Humanitarian Award. You can read his full speech here, or check out the video below:
Admittedly, I used to shy away from political or polarizing social media posts in the past so as not to “offend” anyone and/or to “protect” my brand (it’s fun, it’s positive, etc.). And I didn’t want to perpetuate the stereotype of the “angry Black woman.” But I was angry. Enough was enough, I could not and would not remain silent any longer. And if I lost a few friends or readers in the process? Then so be it.
When men who look like my dad, my husband, my uncles, my cousins and my friends are being slaughtered on the streets, it’s tragic, it’s inexcusable, it’s saying out loud for everyone to hear that Black lives don’t matter.
Most of the White people on my timeline were up in arms about the tragedies in Paris and Orlando, but when Black men are being gunned down on American soil? Silence. And we all know silence speaks volumes.
Interestingly enough, some of them had found their voices AFTER the Dallas officers were killed, which for the record is also a tragedy, but said NOTHING about the Black deaths that preceded theirs. All lives matter, right?
To stand idly by while your friends are hurting, that’s the epitome of White privilege.
And to those who did speak up and speak out, thank you. Thank you for seeing us, our pain and the injustice.
As a writer, all I have are my words. All I have is my voice and I’ll be damned if I allow it to be silenced. And to all my bloggers, writers and influencers out there, I encourage you to use your platform and your influence for good. For change. For justice.
Don’t let the nice-girl demeanor, college education, proper English, condo in Lincoln Park and relaxed hair fool you. As the above pin states, “I am VERY Black.” And if you’ve got a problem with that, I ain’t sorry.