Telfar Brought Lil’ Kim and Big Ellie to His Debut Store Opening
“Canal Street is the center of where fashion begins, ends, recycles itself, and then also counterfeits itself,” said designer Telfar Clemens on Saturday afternoon, a few hours into the opening-day celebration for his first permanent store, a futuristic film set slash brand boutique located just off Broadway and Canal downtown. “It’s a special part of the city that I’m most connected to,” he said as his young niece Amari, dressed head-to-toe in pink, sweetly tried to interrupt. “One second, baby,” he told her. Clemens’s friends, family, shoppers, and fans were milling about around us. They dressed for the occasion in at least one Telfar item: his signature Shopping Bag tote, in all sizes and colors, or his UGG collaboration. Or his White Castle merch or logo hoop earrings.
Even though the Telfar team was ready for the crazy crowds that usually show up for his public events — security and staff were everywhere — the store was crowded but calm when I arrived. The line that had formed that morning behind the store in Cortlandt Alley had dissipated. The store, an all-white industrial space with a futuristic design, stretched the entire block. His clothing collections of leather bell-bottoms, logo sweatpants, and jersey dresses were displayed throughout the space in illuminated mushroom-shaped white pods. The illuminated checkout counter was in the shape of a giant Telfar logo. Along the walls, television screens played live footage from the back of the store, where the brand built a brightly lit all-white television set for TelfarTV, its conversational and interactive streaming channel. There, a long, curved white couch surrounded a smaller elevated platform stage. “We’re gonna film live shows,” says Clemens. “It’s not just about shopping. This is a space that’s an extension of what the brand is, which is about people.”
The party doubled as a celebration to kick off Telfar’s 20th anniversary next year. It’s an impressive milestone for any independent American fashion brand, let alone a Black-owned one, in an industry dominated by fast-fashion “dupe” machines and deep-pocketed luxury conglomerates. But Clemens and his business partner Babak Radboy have managed to withstand the highs and lows of the fashion system. They were once CFDA darlings, for example, and regulars at Fashion Week. But in recent years, they have opted out of most of the industry routines, like runway shows, focusing instead on their community of customers and memorable product collaborations with the likes of UGG and jelly-sandals brand Melissa. The brand’s clothing is still unisex, and the largest size of its vegan-leather Shopping Bag (dubbed the Bushwick Birkin) is still less than $300. Only now, the brand also carries many more versions in different materials, textures, and trims — including a genuine leather range topping out at $960 for the largest size — signaling that Clemens understands he needs to innovate to keep his biggest hit fresh and covetable.
At the store opening, I met two friends, Shafrarisi Bonner and Neah Gray, who had just met Clemens and asked him to sign each of their large totes. “I feel like I’m part of a community,” says Bonner. “And just for Black people in general, to have a Black designer really be so big — I just feel so great.”
A long dark corridor runs along most of the length of the store, where salespeople are waiting behind an illuminated counter with laminated sheets showing every bag in every color and size. I asked to see “Acid” in a “shmedium” (a new size that the brand released after shoppers asked for something larger than a small but smaller than a medium) and was quickly handed a brand-new gunmetal green version wrapped in a dustbag. “I feel like the clothes and the bags need their own separate spaces,” says Clemens later, explaining the idea behind the bar. It was “modeled after Chinese restaurant menu,” where customers can see pictures of anything they might order.
“It’s like takeout for bags,” said AK, who came to see the store with her friend Britney Monet. “This store is like the perfect embodiment of Telfar in its physical form,” said Monet. “Thinking of how grandiose the brand is, especially with their marketing, the different talent that they bring on — it’s so big, loud, and proud.”
A little before 5 p.m., the mood in the store shifted. The little kids had gone home. The music got louder, the crowd got denser, and Clemens and his TelfarTV crew, including the singer Ian Isiah, moved to the film set. They began hyping the crowd: Anyone willing to share a talent with the audience could win a free Telfar bag. This audience didn’t need much encouragement. There was the break dancer who did an unboxing of his new tote bag as part of his routine, then a woman wearing strings of pearls named Kitty New York who freestyled some verses. “Can I get a purrrr!” Masked dancers emerged, moving through the crowd as everyone started chanting “Telfar” repeatedly. A young woman named Godly recited a poem and showed off her best model strut. (The audience response: “Give her a bag!”) Ts Madison came by to say hello and wave to the crowd. “Thank you for coming and blessing our space,” Clemens told her. Singers Melonee R and Gia Love what Clemens described as one his favorite new songs, “VIP.” Lil’ Kim dropped by to say hello. But the highlight, for me, was an appearance by a New York diva: Ellie the Elephant, the WNBA mascot who often carries a Telfar tote on her tunnel walk before Liberty games. The cameramen swarmed around her, and the footage filled the dozens of screens around the store and beamed out online. Holding a shiny silver bag and whipping her braid around, she danced with Clemens as the crowd cheered before the next person emerged from the crowd to take the stage.