When Diarrha N’Diaye-Mbaye, founder of the inclusive beauty brand Ami Colé, announced her new role as Executive Vice President of Beauty and Fragrance at SKIMS, the internet celebrated. It’s a headline that reads like a win for representation and proof that independent founders can ascend to the highest ranks of global beauty. But beneath the shine of that appointment lies a harder truth: Ami Colé, the brand she built to celebrate melanin-rich skin, announced its official shut down a few months ago.
Prime shelf space comes at a price
For many, Ami Colé was more than a beauty label. It was a movement. Launched in 2021, the brand was backed by L’Oréal, loved by editors, beefed up by her illustrious career connections, stocked at Sephora and adored by its online community. It was everything an emerging founder dreams of: capital, credibility, connections, community and cultural resonance. Yet, even with all that, the business could not survive.
In her announcement, N’Diaye-Mbaye was candid. She spoke about how the economic landscape had shifted, about tariffs, operational costs, and a market that had become increasingly unforgiving. She also revealed something more human, that even prime shelf space can work against you if your target audience never walks those aisles. In her words, “Prime shelf space comes at a price… we couldn’t afford it.”
That quote cuts deep for many founders who are learning that getting in the room isn’t the same as being able to stay there. It’s a reminder that great branding, press and passion can open doors, but profit, structure and sustainability are what keep them open.
A reality for South African startups
For South African founders, that reality hits even closer to home. Here, distribution isn’t just about being stocked, it’s about surviving the system. Between social-capitalist retail models and the economics of scale, small and emerging brands face barriers that often have nothing to do with the quality of their product. If your brand doesn’t have a social following, a celebrity endorsement or deep marketing pockets, many distributors simply won’t “seat” you on their shelves. And when they do, the costs can feel suffocating: shelf-space rent, promotional commitments, display fees, and sales targets that rival international benchmarks.
We’ve seen it happen again and again. Platforms like the local Beauty on Tapp and international Skins have created meaningful platforms for local brands, but entry is still competitive and expensive. Newer collectives like Edenvinne have stepped up to offer a more accessible model, giving smaller brands the opportunity to reach customers without breaking their budgets, but even then, the challenges persist. The pressure to hit monthly sales targets can crush early-stage brands before they ever find their footing.
It’s not just about store placement; it’s about readiness. Too often, founders celebrate getting into retail without understanding what that commitment means. A store might require you to maintain inventory levels that stretch your cash flow, run discounts to match promotional calendars or provide marketing support you simply can’t afford. The result? You’re on the shelf but not selling. And that’s the most expensive kind of visibility there is.
This reality is echoed in local stories too. Sinovuyo Mondliwa’s Love Kinks recently announced its entered Clicks and you could it as a victory for representation, but it undoubtedly also comes with new layers of complexity – logistics, pricing and relentless demand. Hermosa Flor, founded by Gorgeous Mbali, once expanded into physical retail through a pop-up, but had to scale back after costs likely outgrew returns. The latter example is a prime example of how the economics of beauty, production, distribution and marketing can quietly eclipse even the most visible success stories.
A ruthless, unpredictable market globally
The market is saturated and ruthless everywhere. The fact that even Ami Colé, a brand that seemingly did everything right, couldn’t outlast the economics of scale is both sobering and instructive. Selling consumer goods is, at its core, a numbers game. The margins are thin and the pressure to grow is constant. For founders in South Africa, where disposable income is tighter and retail dynamics are skewed toward imported or mass-market brands, the climb is even steeper.
The great Founder Conundrum
So what does this mean for the next generation of founders? It means we have to stop mistaking visibility for viability. Before chasing retail placement, founders need to ask: can we afford the cost of staying visible? Can our systems support the scale we’re asking for? Do we know who our customer really is and will they shop where we’re being placed? Do we get sufficient support from our distribution partner/s to keep us on the shelf?
Direct-to-consumer strategies are a foundation for scaling brands. Building a community, owning your narrative and cultivating customer loyalty are the things that prepare you for retail, not the other way around. A store amplifies what already exists, it doesn’t create it.
In the same light, it’s worth remembering that retailers will always prioritise what keeps their doors open. Ami Colé was stocked in over 600 Sephora stores, yet many of those locations weren’t where its community actually shopped. So, while stores will work hard to get brands on the shelves and drive traffic through their doors or sites, they won’t pause to fix a brand’s operational or market mismatches. Their job is to sell shelf space, not safeguard your sustainability.
Diarrha N’Diaye-Mbaye’s next chapter at SKIMS isn’t a contradiction of her closure; it’s a continuation. It shows that even when a business ends, the lessons, relationships and credibility it builds can live on. Her story is one of evolution. For founders here at home, that’s the real takeaway: your brand is only as strong as the business that holds it up. And in the beauty industry, beauty costs.
Source: The Cut; Image: Diarrha Instagram
