In ELLE’s monthly series Office Hours, we ask people in powerful positions to take us through their first jobs, worst jobs, and everything in between. This month, spoke with Kahlana Barfield Brown, a beauty editor turned brand founder who started her career as an intern at InStyle. She made her design debut in 2022 with a collection for Target’s Future Collective, which sold out almost immediately. Then, in 2024, she collaborated with Nike to create a custom Air Force 1 sneaker for the Yardrunners program honoring her alma mater, Howard University. Now, she is expanding her creative vision with her own namesake label, KBB by Kahlana—a collection of elevated essentials inspired by streetwear, available in sizes XS–4XL (00–30) and priced between $20 and $95. As she puts it, “I wanted to design pieces so women would always have something to wear.” Here’s a closer look at how she manages it all.
My first job
My very first job was at The Gap when I was 16 and in high school in Seattle. I think I made around $5 an hour—whatever minimum wage was at the time. But I didn’t care, because I loved fashion that much. Basically, I folded clothes for a living—that was my thing. Thanks to The Gap, I became a master folder. I’d grab stuff from the fitting rooms and make sure every shirt on the countertops was folded perfectly. To this day, I still fold my shirts the Gap way—sleeves tucked behind and folded under. I worked retail throughout college, too. Even when I was interning at InStyle, I worked at Club Monaco on Fifth Avenue. My internship ended at 6 P.M., and I’d be at Club Monaco by 6:30.
My worst job
When I was in college at Howard, I started interning the summer after my sophomore year. I already knew I loved magazines—I was a journalism major and a fashion merchandising minor—and I was sure I wanted to work in that world. But I had a boyfriend back in Seattle, so instead of going to New York for summer internships, I kept going home to Seattle. One summer, I got an internship at The Seattle Times, where I was covering funeral announcements. That experience made it clear: this was not my industry. I realized pretty quickly that this wasn’t the path I wanted to take with my journalism degree. That’s the one piece of advice I always give young people: don’t go back to your hometown for the summer—go to New York City and get an internship!
How I got my start in beauty
Beauty kind of fell into my lap. I was a total magazine junkie in college—I had subscriptions to everything. InStyle felt more attainable, more aligned with what I could actually buy on a college budget. That was the magazine I specifically wanted to work for.
I had a friend named Daisy Lou Ellen who was an assistant there. She had gone to Howard too—she was older, but we had a mutual friend. I told him that my dream was to work at InStyle, and he connected me with her. She gave me amazing advice on what steps to take. So I reached out to the chief of reporters at the time, DeLora Jones Blake. I was completely overdressed for the meeting—I think I actually brought a briefcase—but I got the internship.
I started as a general, floating intern, and I remember when the beauty director Amy Synnott’s assistant went on vacation. I thought, This is my opportunity. I told myself, I need to do this girl’s job better than she does. I need to prove to Amy that she needs me in her life.
The workday started at 10 A.M., but I got there at 8 every morning. I’d have water on Amy’s desk before she arrived. If there was a story she had a run-through for, I’d call in even more products than she asked for. If it was a blush story, I’d call in every blush I could find. I went above and beyond to make her job easier—because that’s what you should always do: more than what’s asked of you.
After my internship ended, I moved back to Seattle. But a week after I got home, Amy called me and I was hired.
On the importance of representation
I saw a space in beauty where Black women just weren’t represented. Me being in that role was powerful because I felt like I was an image for little girls who looked like me—but didn’t see someone like me as the standard of beauty. I knew that my position in the beauty industry was both necessary and needed. So I took it very seriously and felt a deep sense of purpose behind it. I knew I could use my seat to shed light on my experience as a Black woman—specifically, the needs I have as a darker-skinned Black woman with natural hair.
The story behind my connection to Target
I ended up leaving InStyle because I started building a personal brand and noticed shifts happening in magazines. So, I took a chance to see what could happen if I went out on my own. Because of the relationships I had in the magazine industry, many brands reached out to me about consulting and partnerships.
Then I spoke on a panel about trends at Target, where I met the Target team—specifically a Black woman named Pamela Brown [the head of talent partnerships and influencer marketing]. She asked me, “Would you ever want to work with Target?” and I said, “Absolutely.”
Fast-forward, there was an opportunity to do a campaign for them called Black Beyond Measure, which I did with my daughter. After that, they tapped me to be the first design partner for a new brand called Future Collective that they were launching. It was designed to be a fashion-forward, edgier line at Target, created by tastemakers, style influencers, and editors—and I happened to be the first design partner.
A lot of people thought I owned it, but I didn’t—it was a Target-owned brand. However, I was able to bring my aesthetic to the table. There were definitely guardrails; I had to work within certain parameters when it came to fabrics, prints, patterns, and their sizing scale, which wasn’t necessarily the fit I would have chosen. Still, I did the best I could, and it took off. The support exceeded my wildest dreams—it sold out immediately.
What “success” looks like now
I told Target that I wanted to create my own namesake line—one that would be truly authentic to me. Having worked in fashion for so long, I’ve seen a big gap. I’ve worked with many design houses, and their sizing usually only goes up to size 14. There are so many women who are underserved.
I saw an opportunity to create a collection built around fashion essentials that can be mixed and matched. I wanted to design pieces so women would always have something to wear—stylish but elevated. Classic and unique, so you look interesting but still have wardrobe staples. That’s how I want my closet to be, and with quality you can trust.
For me, Target was the perfect retailer because of its accessibility. Eggs cost $10 a carton—people don’t have $400 to spend on a basic tank top. Target offered to support me and carry my line as the exclusive retailer for two years. After those two years, I’m free to take it wherever I want.
My fashion philosophy
I always pare things down. I’m someone who truly loves comfort—if I’m wearing anything uncomfortable, I’ll take it off. A lot of the time, I’ll switch out my jeans for a pair of sweats, but I’ll pair those sweats with a dressy shirt. I think the ease of style comes from looking effortless, like you didn’t try too hard. When you’re comfortable and can own a look, you walk with more confidence.
A styling trick I swear by that instantly elevates any look
I know it sounds cliché, but I’m truly one of those “take one thing off” people. There’s simplicity in that, and I love the simplicity, but I always try to have some kind of exclamation point. There’s going to be something interesting, but everything else around it will be timeless and classic.
The must-have piece every woman needs in her wardrobe
A great pair of jeans—once you find your silhouette, stick to it. And a crisp white button-down. I’m someone who believes in dressing for your body, not for a style. Figure out what works for your shape, forget what you’re seeing or reading about trends, and stick to your formula. I’m not chasing trends; I wear what’s flattering.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
