The brains behind 'baraka'

Markeing and branding director of baraka, Eisha
Saleh says, "Our new collection has more flare."
Photo courtesy of baraka clothing.

To assume that Eisha Saleh, 34, and Kathy Fry, 29, are simply business partners would be, well, a wrong assumption.

Via Skype, the two Australian-born entrepreneurs often finish each other's sentences, giggle while reminiscing about how they became friends, and their enthusiasm for their brand, and their religion, can be felt from oceans away.

Their goal is to make their clothing label, baraka, which translates to “blessing” in Arabic, global. They'd like to see those seven little letters have just as much influence as the golden arches that have sold hamburgers for nearly 70 years.

But in order to run, one must first walk, and first crawl, and... well, you know the rest.

Going against the norm, and out on a limb isn't always easy, and Fry even admits to taking off her hijab (the Muslim head scarf for women) for five months due to career pressures – but we'll get to that later.

With their Web site re-launched, and a brand new lookbook, Saleh says baraka is ready to take its next step in the world of fashion.

“The first collection was about the basics,” Saleh said. “And now we're building from there.”

The pieces from baraka's first collection that Saleh is referring to were geared to be the things that you “want right now,” and that mentality seemed to work, with baraka's top selling items ranging from zipperless pants, to a maxi dress designed with the ease of breastfeeding in mind, playfully called the “Yummy Mummy.”

Fry and Saleh teamed up after meeting at Daar Aisha Shariah College in Sydney where both women had been taking weekly classes on Islamic law.

For the last 10 years, Fry dedicated her life to fashion, working for Australian companies like Seafolly, David Lawrence, and Jigsaw. While Saleh, a child of Lebanese immigrants, had worked as an executive assistant for some of Australia's top banks, giving her a working knowledge of business, and human resources.

When Fry became a Muslim in 2005, she said her outlook on the clothing industry changed.

“Now I had dress restrictions,” Fry said. “I was willing to pay anything to cover up my body, but I needed to find a way to keep my personality. I asked myself, 'How can I contribute to the [Muslim community]?' I knew [God] had chosen me for this because I have the skill, and the know-how.
"I had an idea,” Fry recalls. “But I needed help with the day-to-day, so I asked Eisha to help me write a business proposal.”

After two solid months of plugging numbers, and bouncing ideas off of each other, Fry and Saleh launched baraka on Aug. 29, 2008.

“The idea was to give women choices,” Fry said. “Everyone has trouble finding the right clothes after they wear hijab, and we wanted a solution that would benefit all women. Our clothes are for anyone who likes to wear modest clothing. It's the [innate humane nature] of a women to cover up.”

I don't know if any of the VS Angels would agree with Fry, but Saleh says Fry's point is valid, and it was her innate nature, or as Muslims say, her “fitra” to want to change the way she dressed.

“I was always pulling my tops down to cover my bum,” Saleh said. “I just woke up one day, and started to feel too exposed.”

Saleh said she spoke to her husband who was very supportive of her desire to cover her hair, and suggested that she put on the hijab, and then “go to the shops where no one knows you.”

 And that's exactly what Saleh did.

“It felt good,” she said. “No one was really looking at me, or staring, and I felt like this was something I could do.”

If necessity is the mother of invention, then it would be fair to say that the birth of baraka has turned Fry and Saleh into proud “parents.” But that which is worth while almost never comes without some struggle, and Fry says there came a point in her life when work pressures, and adhering to her faith became overwhelming.

Fry is a self-proclaimed “country girl” who grew up on the far south coast of Australia. She was raised in a strong Roman Catholic household, but after high school, moved to Sydney where she began studying fashion, and picked up a job working at a grocery store.

“I was working in the delicatessen,” she said. “And everyone I worked with was Muslim. I didn't know what that meant – I had never even heard that word before.”

By the end of 2004, Fry was well versed enough about Islamic teachings to know that she wanted to embrace the faith. In 2005, Fry said the “Shahadah,” or the Islamic creed, which is the Muslim declaration of belief in the oneness of God, and acceptance of Muhammad as God's last prophet.

But for Fry, her conversion (or reversion) suddenly posed an identity crisis.

“I looked Aussie,” she said. “But internally I was a Muslim through and through. People couldn't understand that I was a Muslim, and I felt that I needed to complete my outward appearance to look like my inner appearance.”

Fry says her parents were supportive of her decision to change her faith, but it was the professional world that wasn't as keen about her new look.

“They're a bit hippy,” Fry said about her parents with a laugh. “They kind of just go with the flow. But I had a lot of trouble in the fashion industry. One part of the job persecuted me for my hijab, and I took it off.”

But after five months of soul searching, Fry said her conviction in her faith grew stronger, and more sincere. It's now been two and a half years since Fry put her hijab back on but says, “I'm still finding myself. It's a long journey, and sometimes a struggling journey, but the pieces of me just came together.”

The baraka tagline, “beautiful clothes for beautiful women,” is accompanied by what the women say is a new and innovative approach to fashion. And though the clothes are a little pricey, with skirts and tunics running roughly $130 per piece, and baraka's higher-end collection “The Black Label,” which features couture abayas, and evening gowns made to order, Saleh says the goal is to provide quality clothing that will last.

“Most Muslim women spend so much on layering their clothes,” Saleh said. “They'll spend the same amount of money here, but get pieces that are solid, and well made. Not everyone will be your customer, and that's okay. But we hope that Muslim women will see the quality of what we are making.”

“And our stuff is made in Australia,” Fry adds. “The quality here is just as good as Italy, and just as good as France.”

Both women say they are excited about what the future holds, and although they are very busy with the launch of their new collection, they've still made time to give back to the global community through a campaign called “Project Woman.”

“We basically want to help empower women,” Fry said. “This program allows us to work with organizations all over the world to teach women various skills that will benefit their lives."

For now, the women are busy trailblazing a new path for Muslim women, and budding designers, but through it all, they maintain that if it weren't for their faith in God, none of this would be possible

As for Fry, she says she has learned a number of life lessons about work, and her faith, and says that women who feel that they cannot adhere to their religious beliefs in a professional environment are their own worst enemy.

“If a company doesn't want to take you because of your hijab, then it's not the right place for you,” Fry said. “If they're willing to look passed your skill set, then it's not the right place for you. You have to find the people that will seek value in you, and allow you to be a Muslim.
And those places are out there.”

For more information about baraka's new collection, or Project Woman, visit www.barakawoman.com.