Last week was a rough one for Black Baltimore-related founders. Slutty Vegan’s Pinky Cole filed for bankruptcy. And Anifa Mvuemba, designer of the colorful, curve-loving clothing brand Hanifa, announced she was taking a break after a grueling period of manufacturing and order fulfillment woes.
While the Hanifa news was met with sadness from the former Morgan State University student’s loyal fans, at the end of a tough moment for her business, something about her announcement was strangely hopeful: a Black woman was taking a rest.
Because we don’t always get to do that.
Mvuemba didn’t respond to any of my attempts to reach her, but has been talking about her experience on social media.
“I’m just choosing to slow this down, for now,” Mvuemba wrote in a candid Instagram post titled “Pressing Pause. We’ll Be Back When We’re Ready.”
Hanifa’s origin and success is a singularly American success story. Born in Kenya to Congolese parents, Mvuemba was barely in her 20s when she started Hanifa, with its tagline “For women without limits.” Her brand, launched with a pandemic-era virtual fashion show, made its live debut at the National Portrait Gallery in 2021. Since then, she’s been worn by everyone from Beyoncé to Sarah Jessica Parker, two names anyone in fashion would covet to be seen in their clothes.
Mvuemba had definitely survived — and thrived — in Baltimore, and everywhere else, because of her joyful approach to celebrating bodies that other couture brands either hide or ignore altogether.
Members of the industry expressed their condolences, but for Black women, who form the backbone of families, political parties and entire industries without the expectation of credit or rest, this seems not merely retreat, but revolution.
“I applaud her,” said Natalie Graham, designer and owner of Charles Street’s Dollhouse Boutique. “You have to start to prioritize yourself.”
I keep writing about the demands on Black women’s time and energy because y’all don’t leave us alone. Last year I spoke to some of the so-called “92% of Black women who voted for Kamala Harris. They were firm in their resolve to prioritize themselves and their own community amid complaints that they were leaving everyone high and dry by not being cannon fodder on the front lines of organizing. Sigh.
Just last week, U.S. Representative Jasmine Crockett lost in the Texas senatorial primary after some heavy social media sabotage, only to have supporters of her opponent command that her voters immediately come together and kumbaya. They’re kinda over it.
We’re in high demand for labor but not so much for being lauded.
It’s not that Black women never make mistakes. Hanifa’s issues started with its “Hanifa Friday” sale in November. Manufacturing and shipping delays caused a backlog and disappointment. Loyal customers, many of them Black women, felt personally let down.
“If we are supposed to support Black businesses, should we also not support Black consumers?” asked TikTok user ItsAllGigi. She has a point.
Mvuemba has owned the debacle, but she felt a more glaring spotlight for her mistake.
“Founder-led brands operate under a different kind of scrutiny,” she said in a statement to The Cut. “And when you’re a Black woman, the margin for grace is thinner. That reality is exhausting.”
Existing and excelling as a Black woman can be even more exhausting in a city like Baltimore. Being among so many powerful and economically successful people who look like you might seem like an easier setting in which to thrive. You always hurt the ones you love, they say. Love me less, OK?
“Baltimore is one of those very direct places,” Graham said. “They are going to tell you their opinions whether you like it or not. They’re going to check you and make sure you rise to the occasion.”
Toni James, owner of the Fells Point boutique Katwalk, said some in the same community will literally crawl over each other for a limited chance at survival.
“I don’t know if the expectation is higher in this area. It’s more like a ‘crabs in a barrel’ situation,” James said.
Mvuemba has spoken about the difficulties of scaling a business, particularly in a perfect storm of demand and issues beyond one’s control. James noted the leeway given, say, to Under Armour.
“As a Black company, sometimes it feels like they’re spying on you, looking for you to make a mistake,“ she said. ”We need to support and celebrate each other. And not nitpick.”
That’s why what Mvuemba did, while owning what happened and then taking a moment, seems so big to me. This is a stressful era for everyone, and for some, it seems the wrong time to take a break. But as she’s written, she’s a new mom, out of immediate inspiration and wanting to refuel.
That’s a powerful reminder that we should all get to do that. When my husband died, my employer at the time gave me a very generous paid month off. It honestly wasn’t enough, but it helped, because you can’t create from an empty vessel, especially a sad one.
Graham closed her showroom for an entire month after getting married two years ago. “It was like, ‘I just need a break to be with my family.’ You have to get through it. If they love you, they love you.”
The day after her announcement, Mvuemba posted a simple line on Threads — “For clarity, it’s a pause.” I wish the best for her — and for Cole, for that matter. To gather themselves and be back.
When it’s time.






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