In the middle of our conversation, Lubna Khalid pauses for a moment, listening for something in the background. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I thought I heard my baby calling.” Aside from recently adopting her first child, 29 year old Khalid has a lot on her plate these days. The founder and CEO of Real Cosmetics, Khalid is an unequivocal visionary. Real Cosmetics, which was launched in 1999 to accommodate the needs of women of all skin tones, has undergone various makeovers of its own. Now, Khalid is focused on going international with her desire to cater to the beauty needs of “real” women everywhere.

The daughter of an engineer and doctor, Khalid grew up in New Jersey, in an environment that she describes as very “un-diverse.” Khalid further recognized the dearth of media images of people of color through her experiences as a part-time model in high school. In addition to being frustrated with the lack of products catering to her own skin tone, she found that too often the industry viewed beauty through an unrealistic and
narrow lens.

Khalid graduated with a degree in Business and Ethnic Studies from U.C. Berkeley in 1997. She went on to compile invaluable marketing experience at Proctor & Gamble; after analyzing demographic shifts and recognizing the market void for an “all-encompassing” cosmetics line, Khalid decided to design her own products.

Along with Roque Cozzette, Real’s director of makeup who has 20 years of experience under his belt, Khalid aimed for a multi-racial spectrum of colors that would compensate for “the lack of diverse images in the nation. There are so many beautiful heritages in America that aren’t recognized in the public eye.”
The idea behind Real is that women don’t come in just one color tone, even though most make-up is derived from pink and yellow undertones. The four color categories that organize Real’s products are red/brown, red/gold, olive, and golden. Real’s foundations and powders have names ranging from Delhi to Nairobi, emphasizing the diversity of their clientele. Their lipsticks come in sheer, semi-matte, and shimmer textures and have names like Dalia (a luminous russet) and Laylah (a seductive, deep mauve).

To Khalid, most cosmetic lines that don’t realize they’re catering to a diverse clientele “are still asleep. It’s 2004, and now companies like L’Oreal and Estee Lauder are working with concepts similar [to Real]. You see lines that claim to be for different skin tones, but there’s a three-dimensional level to make up a lot of them don’t get.”

According to Khalid, marketing images for these companies ascribe to an outdated binary idea of beauty that caters to only Caucasian and African American women, while Real strives for “beauty without boundaries,” which, aptly enough, is its tagline. After sitting in on various focus groups with women from diverse backgrounds, Khalid realized that “it’s not just about color. Women from all kinds of backgrounds are frustrated when they can’t find the right products for their skin, so while Real’s original focus was on women of color, we’re more multicultural now.”

Khalid’s incipient entrepreneurship began with selling the products out of her Berkeley flat, but Real Cosmetics found a home in New York City for a couple years before its recent move to Calabasas, California. The east coast of the United States contains Real’s largest retailers, including the makeup line Sephora and various boutiques, but most of Real’s business is still garnered through word of mouth and website sales. “We’ve never had a public relations agency, though we’ve gotten tons of press,” Khalid notes. “Word of mouth is still the best way to get to women. Many times, someone will ask, ‘Where’d you get that? That’s cool!’, and then they’ll buy our products.”

Khalid acknowledges Real’s global clientele and is currently working towards a new product line and getting international distribution by the end of 2005. (Real currently caters to the United States and Canada.) However, because Khalid’s company doesn’t cater to a primarily Caucasian demographic, getting retail positions for Real has proved to be difficult. “We see other companies achieving success with their ideas, and we think—what are they doing that’s so special? The answer is nothing. It’s easier for store buyers and customers to accept something that’s similar to other stuff they’ve already seen. When you’re breaking that mold, you’re paving the way for different products, but it’s difficult.”

At the same time, Khalid has received a major response from repeat customers. “At first, the reaction was ‘It’s about time!’ I still get emails every day through the website, in which women will thank us for existing. There are still such limited options, and it makes me happy we’re continuing to make a dent in the way people think about beauty.”

Khalid’s role as a socially conscious entrepreneur has also led her into the realm of racial advocacy. In the wake of September 11, 2001, she directed and produced an anti-racial-profiling documentary entitled “Haters,” which, through an array of interviews with activists and victims of hate crimes, adds a personal context to the media’s demonization of people
of color.

Although Khalid doesn’t necessarily see herself as a role model, she is accustomed to passionate responses from young women of color when she speaks at different events. As a published author and public speaker, Khalid often engages young audiences in discussing the culture of beauty, and some of the harmful ideologies that are fostered by the media.

“Sometimes you forget about the impact you’re making when you get into the day to day mode…it’s great to know I’m doing it, not just as an entrepreneur but as a South Asian woman. More people from our culture are breaking out of the stereotypical professions…doing different things.”

When we discuss personal ideas of beauty, Khalid becomes very thoughtful. “I’ve been in focus groups where women are asked how they feel society defines beauty,” Khalid muses. “It’s usually a consistent answer: blonde, blue-eyed, perfect, etcetera. But when they talk about how they, personally, define beauty, they address the internal things: strength, peace, harmony, confidence. That’s also how I define beauty.”

It’s perhaps counterintuitive that someone in an industry like Khalid’s would be so focused on the “internal things,” but it also makes sense. After all, the women who are drawn to Real Cosmetics are more than a little familiar with the kinds of prejudices and ideologies that inform popular notions of beauty. It’s only natural that their disillusionment with the cosmetics industry, which is so negligent of women’s unique needs, would lead them to dig for deeper meanings.

For Khalid and her clients, the definition of beauty is very simple. “It’s about your energy, your aura, your personal vibe.
If you don’t feel positive about yourself, no amount of makeup will change that.”

For more information about Real Cosmetics, visit their website: www.realcosmetics.com