Underneath it all: A mother's vision of inclusiveness

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Tulani Soffin '04 BS and daughter
Tulani Soffin '04 BS decided to take matters into her own hands in response to a problem affecting her daughter. Visit cocoamilkandhoney.com to learn more.

I’m a mom of three, and my oldest is a girl. Like most kids today, my daughter loves to wear leggings! And why not? They are comfortable enough to run, jump, and play all day. 

But one day, I realized that there was a problem.

We were celebrating a birthday at an event space literally called Run, Jump and Play. My daughter was wearing one of her favorite outfits—a unicorn top with light teal leggings—and with every jump I could see her brightly-patterned underwear  through her light-colored leggings, constrasting against her dark skin.

In that moment I had a choice. Do I make her sit things out and miss out on all the fun? Or just let it go, while worrying that it was inappropriate and potentially exposing her to the wrong kind of attention? I chose to let it go, but I felt like a bad mom (who obviously should have done better outfit planning).

I didn’t forget that day, and soon realized that this was happening more often than not. Little girls’ clothing, light colored and made of thin material, exacerbates the effect—particularly for girls of color—especially when nearly all the undergarments are designed with vivid patterns on a white background. In adult sizes, tunic-length shirts mitigate the problem, but little girls’ shirts and skirts are often very short. What could I do?

Looking in my own dresser drawer, I had an epiphany: every single item was black, which for me disappears nicely under any color clothing, even white. Why would the same option not exist for little girls? Most of the plain undergarments I found for girls were beige, not black or brown. And beige was offered as the flesh tone—but for whom? Not my little brown-skinned girl. 

"So-called 'flesh tone' clothing sends a message to girls whose skin is not beige. -Tulani Soffin, '04 BS, founder and CEO of Cocoa Milk & Honey

There was an obvious functional problem to solve, but from my own experience growing up as a kid in the ‘80’s I knew a bigger problem persisted. One of my earliest memories includes coloring with Crayola crayons and asking my mom what the “flesh” color meant. She had to explain that the peach-colored crayon called “flesh” was supposed to be the color of skin—but only for white people, not us. It was hurtful and made me feel excluded. 

I went into engineering because I love to solve real-world problems. Feeling unimportant and not having access to the same modest clothing options as other girls is a problem I wanted to solve for my daughter. I wanted to help create a world where all little girls can see the beauty of their skin reflected in their environment and grow up feeling normal, beautiful, and represented.

To do this, I drew on the following lessons I learned as an engineer.

1) Get clarity on the problem: Girls not having sufficient access to modest clothing choices, and the social/emotional repercussions that a lack of representation could have on impressionable little girls of color. Keeping true to the scientific method, I made my first Hypothesis: Despite the seeming popularity of brightly patterned underwear for kids, little girls would like to have options for better coverage that solid, darker colors can provide.

I pitched the concept to mothers of various skin colors and races and was confident that this was a problem important to people besides myself. 

2) Persist in the face of the unknown. In early 2020 I was working toward launching my brand, when Covid hit and everything stopped. Even as things began to open up, a lot was uncertain. Would I be able to acquire the needed materials, or find a photographer willing to respect social distancing?

That summer, as the country underwent a racial awakening, I knew I had to be part of the solution despite the uncertainty. I set about identifying the minimum viable product solution by leveraging a local cut and sew manufacturer called Sew Valley in Cincinnati, OH, experimenting and refining my way to a prototype that little girls actually loved to wear.

3) Find a scale-up factor to help make predictive decisions. Thinking of how a chemical engineer designs systems on the pilot scale with an understanding of how to scale up to full production equipment and rates helped me think about how to approach learning about the viability of my business. In order to be successful at a larger scale that would enable unit profitability, I had to spend the little bit of money I had for the business on things that would help me learn.

Tulani Soffin '04 BS and daughter folding clothes
Tulani Soffin and her daughter.

The investment has been worth it. I launched my product on Facebook, was gratified by the engagement, and sold my first product that fall. I am optimistic about the future, but as much as I love this brand and how it can help little girls of color grow up in a better world than I did, it still needs a huge commitment to become a business to survive.

It's a journey I'm willing to make. Starting this business has shown me how chemical engineers can use their skills not only to solve functional problems but also to address social issues that contribute to making the world a better place. My company, Cocoa Milk and Honey, is about great underwear and so much more. It’s about what we pass on to our daughters: kindness, empathy, humility, and a sense of self-worth and beauty. 

For anyone who has an idea for making the world a more inclusive place, I encourage you to give voice to the problem you are trying to solve. Validate that “the world needs this,” and go for it!

Category: Alumni