n March 31, New York became the 15th state to legalize recreational cannabis. New Yorkers ages 21 and over can possess up to three ounces of concentrated cannabis. They can smoke it anywhere they can legally smoke tobacco, store up to five pounds of product, and grow up to six of their own plants. It will be some time before we see dispensaries and other legal retailers hit Manhattan or Ithaca—but the fashion and beauty industries aren’t sleeping on getting in on the Mary Jane game.
The New York market value is estimated at $4.6 billion, with market growth and demand projected to hit $5.8 billion in 2027. It will be the second-biggest market after California. Given the economics, it’s not a shock that there is interest from all sectors—including fashion and luxury. Some are longtime stoners looking for a second venture with solid growth; some are fashion people who never really smoked at all but saw the economic potential, a more secure future than luxury fashion in an era of market supersaturation; others couldn’t care less about making a profit beyond a sustainable level. These are the creatives looking to expand and reimagine narratives around cannabis culture.
There’s been some nascent fashion-weed crossover already. In April 2019, Barneys Los Angeles hosted High Life, a luxury weed pop-up offering $1,575 grinders and concierge delivery. Last year, Los Angeles–based serial fashion entrepreneur Armen Gregorian, the executive behind A.L.C., launched Mae, a beautifully crafted cannabis accessories and product line branded for a more discrete and feminine smoking experience. Then, there are the editors and influencers getting into CBD (or cannabidiol), like L.A.-based Courtney Trop, a.k.a. @alwaysjudging, whose CBD line, Stevie, features minimally designed body salves, bath salts, and pre-rolls.
Central to legalization is reckoning with the systemic violence of criminalization toward Black and Latinx communities, which represent more than 90 percent of convictions despite consumption being equal regardless of race. With legalization, criminal records for marijuana-related convictions will be expunged, and 40 percent of tax revenue will go back into Black and Latinx communities. You can’t talk about the future of cannabis without owning the history and present. This is a conversation that extends to the private sector. Overlapping with inequities in criminal justice is the lack of Black and Brown ownership in the growing legal business; the conversation needs to extend beyond consideration of harms into who now benefits. Who has ownership over legal cannabis spaces? What are the hiring practices within new cannabis businesses, and whose voice is being centered? Are practices and internal structures enough? Can they ever be? What is the impact of massive, multistate operators on independent Black, Brown, and minority-owned businesses?
Below, we speak with some of the new voices in cannabis—New York creatives leaning in to weed, some hoping to be the DuPont or Veuve Clicquot of cannabis, others with different ambitions—to get their stories, from brand concept and product to how they reckon with the deep inequity of this space.
Farnsworth Fine Cannabis
Who: Art Director Alexander Farnsworth and his partner, designer Adam Lippes, known for his minimal, feminine apparel beloved by the likes of Oprah Winfrey. Farnsworth has been developing the cannabis line and shop, which launched in late March, for eight years; Lippes is still designing his ready-to-wear label full time—he’s preparing to shoot his resort collection when we speak—but got involved in Farnsworth Fine Cannabis at the start-up phase.
“I’m an entrepreneur at heart,” Lippes, who is involved in a range of new businesses, says. “Day to day, I’m in the studio designing my collection. That is where my passion lies. But every once in a while, I’ll pop in [and work in the shop] or hop on a phone call.”
What: A luxury dispensary in the Berkshires inspired by early Italian apothecaries, stocking vintage accessories, like a lighter that belonged to Jack Kerouac; a line of apparel designed with Laure Heriard Dubreuil of the Webster; alongside an in-house line of cannabis cigarettes available in three strengths with long filters designed for a smooth hit. “It’s a total New York, New York, product,” Farnsworth says. “I hope to see it in every bodega in the future.”
On how that first joint led to Farnsworth Fine Cannabis: “I was 16 years old. I was supposed to be in film class, but I was with my friends, with the sunroof open, driving around the foothills in Salt Lake City,” Farnsworth muses. “For me, growing up in a very conservative Mormon community in Utah, it just felt like cannabis gave me a place that was an escape and that was safe and that was interesting.”
“Coming from a background of luxury apparel and luxury retail, it was really about approaching this—the development of our space and our cannabis brand—no differently than the development of a luxury apparel collection and, of course, store,” Lippes says. “How do we make the experience as elevated as the product itself? What is the cannabis lifestyle? How does clothing fit into their lifestyle, and what do they want?”
Also key to brand identity is the fact that Farnworth Fine Cannabis is one of the first LGBTQ-owned operators in the industry. “It was very important for us to have representation, not only from the LBGT community, [but also] from women, minorities, veterans, and it just felt like—of course, I’ve been working on this for eight years, but there have been people that have been suffering and have been fighting for legalization for decades,” Farnsworth says. The two have pledged that at least 65 percent of business staff will be LBGTQ+, POC, women, and veterans.
Pure Beauty
Who: Imelda Walavalkar, a longtime New Yorker with a background in sustainable catering, criminal justice reform, and human rights; Irwin Tobias Matutina, an art director and creative director who has worked in fashion and lifestyle in New York; and Tracy Anderson, Walavalkar’s husband and a branding and marketing specialist with experience in sectors ranging from cannabis to music and fashion.
Pure Beauty, the group’s boutique cannabis brand, came together organically—Walavalkar started exploring weed and food during her time in the food world, and when a friend approached her for a cannabis business that didn’t pan out, the seeds of Pure Beauty were born. The three started their own cultivation. Now, they’re aligned with KCD, the fashion PR, branding and production firm representing everyone from Alexander McQueen to Tom Ford to Maison Margiela. Next up? Bringing the brand to New York, “the ultimate dream,” Walavalkar says.
What: Minimal, beautifully modern pre-rolls, Babies (mini joints), and the newly dropped Little Strong Drink (a cardamom, grape and live resin cannabis drink for a strong, near-psychedelic effect). Plus, graphic tees, old-school mixtapes and industrial design objects in the “Drugstore.” Think the Glossier or Dazed Beauty of cannabis if Glossier was also sustainable, POC owned, and human rights centered.
“We see Pure Beauty almost as an art gallery where whoever we work with is allowed the freedom to express themselves truly,” Walavalkar says. “Our approach has been to not have any preconceived ideas about what it means to be a stoner and to fully embrace all the nuances of being stoned and how that feels and what that means.”
Why cannabis? “I remember the first time I experienced the profound impact weed can have on your mind. It was like falling in love where you know your life will never be the same and that you now have something that helps you engage and connect with other people and the world in deeper and more interesting ways,” Walavalkar muses. Pure Beauty came out of a search for a creativity-infused weed brand that brought in music, filmmaking, art, fashion, and photography—something the founders couldn’t find.
On what makes marijuana companies beholden to larger social responsibilities: “I think all businesses have a responsibility—as participants in and beneficiaries of the global market—to acknowledge and address intersectional inequities,” Walavalkar says. “As cannabis businesses, we have an even greater responsibility given the systemic racism perpetuated by the war on drugs and incarceration policies including the disproportionate rates of incarceration for, specifically, Black and Brown communities.”
This inequity—in criminal justice, social equity, and lack of diversity in the most capitalized companies—is something Pure Beauty addresses through hiring (the business is female and minority owned, and the staff is more than 65 percent female and minority), apprenticeship programs, and ongoing financial contributions. There is also a very serious environmental consideration, which is not often seen in the business. “All of the water used in our cultivation is collected from the air, we pull no water from California tap,” Walavalkar explains. “So, for example, a single cannabis plant needs approximately 150 to 250 gallons of water to reach its flowering state. So we are saving millions of gallons of water a year, in a state where water is gold. Our cultivation has no runoff. Even safe fertilizers and nutrients will contaminate surrounding water supplies making life uninhabitable for indigenous species. We also use bugs like roly-polies, earthworms, and nematodes, along with friendly bacteria, fungi, and protozoa to create a soil food web, which helps naturally prevent disease and plant-eating predators by working with the plant to provide nutrients and protection. And we donate all of our soil to public parks.”
Sundae School
Who: New York–based, Seoul-born Dae Lim, a Harvard grad with a background in applied mathematics and time logged at VFiles; his sister and cofounder, Cindy Lim, a Wharton alum who has since left the company; and Dae’s best friend, Mia Park, who came from McKinsey. Sundae School started as a streetwear label in 2017 and has since ventured into cannabis.
What: “Smokewear”—i.e., cozy apparel to wear while smoking, or to get you into a creatively expansive state of mind. Plus, Tiny but Mighty—the brand’s signature mini joints —and THC-infused Mochi Gummies in flavors like lychee and sour yuzu. “We really drew inspiration on the flavors from our childhood,” Lim says over the phone from Seoul. “The world doesn’t need another generic product.”
