Rachel Fleit on Loving Herself From Head to Toe

Rachel Fleit at the Art Production Fund’s gala in New York City. Photo: Matteo Prandoni/BFAnyc

You’re most likely to bump into Rachel Fleit, filmmaker and cofounder of luxury clothing label, Honor, at a fashion week party, gallery opening, or impossibly cool indie film event. She’s the one in the Swedish Hasbeen clogs and funky vintage dress sporting a wide, radiant grin with a sparkle in her eye. She’s also the one without any hair. Fleit lost her hair—all of it—to Alopecia when she was just 18 months. Not surprisingly, it took NYC-born Fleit a long time to ditch her wig and feel as beautiful on the outside as she did on the inside. “In college, I stopped wearing a wig and beauty was suddenly the greatest irony of my life,” she says. “People were like, ‘Oh my god, you’re so beautiful.’” She was kind enough to share the evolution of her own beauty story, below.

What was your first memory of “beauty?”

It was probably the glamorous women in my life: my Aunt Patty, Grandma Claire and Estelle, Aunt Ruthie. These put-together women with beautiful accessories and makeup were real ladies. And then watching movies and television in the late 1980’s—Jennifer Grey was my style icon. She was the prettiest girl with a big nose and Keds and jean cut offs. I was also into Lisa Bonet on The Cosby Show.

And what did beauty mean to you personally?

I believed as a kid that beauty was not part of my plan. With Alopecia, my external appearance was never going to get me anywhere. I decided that what I needed to do was be accessible; wear the J. Crew sweater and get the wig with human hair to look the part. Put on thick eyeliner and make sure no one asks questions or thinks about my baldness. Never in a million years did I think that it could be a beautiful asset of who I am now. I believed that no guy would love me for my exterior, so I had to have this dazzling personality and my charm was going to get me through life. That’s how I would make up for my deficiency. I had a lot of neurosis about it.

Related: I Didn’t Wake Up Like This—& That’s OK

Fleit on Halloween, 1983.

When did that change—and how?

In college, I stopped wearing a wig and beauty was suddenly the greatest irony of my life. People were like, “Oh my god, you’re so beautiful.” It took me a long time to do it, but when I did I got amazing feedback and validation in my physical appearance. A year later I started to exercise and my body transformed. I thought, OK, now I’m bald and people are telling me I’m pretty, now I need to have a perfect body. I never had an eating disorder, but I struggled with body dysmorphia for a good 10 years. There’s still that notion that I’m not good enough, that if I lose 10 pounds, I’ll be beautiful. And that’s unsustainable.

There’s always something, isn’t there? How did you overcome those feelings of “just one more thing and I’ll be perfect”?

Not to sound preachy, but Physique 57 saved me. I had crazy body dysmorphia and nothing worked; I thought I was so fat when I wasn’t. So I started making major changes in my life. I eat well, I don’t party anymore, and I started going to this class two years ago. The energy of this exercise is amazing. I look at myself in mirror and I’m so strong. I look beautiful. Physique has given me this gift.

Related: Battling the Insanity of Fad Diets

When else do you feel beautiful?

When surrounded by the people I love who love me. When I’m doing what I love—writing and directing. I directed the Honor Spring 2014 film and I never felt more awesome than standing behind a monitor watching this story unfold that came from my little brain. Also when I’m on the beach in any month of the year, I’m happy and peaceful and I know everything is unfolding perfectly.

Zosia Mamet and Fleit at Honor’s spring show in September. Photo: Neil Rasmus/BFAnyc

You’re 33 now, and have been living with Alopecia for almost your entire life. Have there been any unexpected “silver linings”?

I feel like I’m doing a service to the world just walking around and saying, “This is who I am.” Women and men will approach me and say, “Thank you for being brave enough to not wear a wig. I have Alopecia and I can’t do it. It gives me so much hope.” That’s the coolest thing ever.

I went through a lot of discomfort and pain about this situation and I’m on the other side. I’m a normal human being. I’ve had bad days, where I think if only I had a topknot and size 26 skinny jeans everything would be fine. Those thoughts come into my mind and I laugh at them. (I think whatever happened in my past life, I was probably an uptight woman with long, thick blonde hair who sat in a throne and got everything she wanted.) But I never think of it as a disease. I don’t suffer from Alopecia, it has given me some of the greatest gifts of my life. Some of the most painful shit can be your greatest gift. If you can get through it, amazing things await on the other side.

Besides, who needs hair? I’m into this silhouette.

Related: It’s Not About Being A Size Zero, Says President of Equinox