When I think about the women I’ve met in passing who ended up changing my life, Amani Richardson is always at the top of that list.

Years ago, I walked into a Sephora overwhelmed, irritated, and defeated—desperate for a foundation that wouldn’t turn yellow on my skin or inflame it. She was the first person to approach me. What began as a simple shade-matching conversation quietly altered the trajectory of both our lives.

At the time, Amani didn’t yet know how gifted she was, or how far her instinct for beauty would take her. Today, she is a product developer and brand manager whose work spans skincare, color cosmetics, body care, and tools across both indie and global brands. She is intentional, deeply thoughtful, and committed to making beauty feel like home—especially for Black women and communities that have long been overlooked.

This episode traces Amani’s journey from the Sephora sales floor to product development rooms, from uncertainty to clarity, from layoffs to breakthroughs. It’s a story about faith, patience, and what it takes to build something meaningful in an industry that is constantly shifting.

When we met, Amani was four years into working at Sephora—fresh out of college, hungry for more, and carrying the quiet pressure so many young women feel when their peers seem to be moving ahead. While others were stepping into corporate roles, she was still in retail, anchored by one thing: a genuine love for beauty.

She remembers walking the store floor wondering who chose the foundation shades, who decided what launched, and who shaped the products Black women would actually use. That curiosity—unremarkable at the time—was the spark that eventually became a career.

Amani didn’t stumble into product development. She waited. She prayed. She trusted that the next step would reveal itself when the timing was right. And when it did, it came through a referral—an introduction to a rising Black-owned beauty brand that recognized her instinct immediately.

Her first role in product development began with promise. Then the world shifted.

COVID hit. Offices closed. Hours were cut. What began as part-time work was reduced to barely-time. And yet, during that same period, a renewed focus on Black-owned brands brought unexpected traction. Sales grew. Visibility increased. The brand survived.

It was a lesson Amani carries with her still: even in difficult seasons, representation moves markets.

Eventually, that chapter ended in a layoff—painful not because of the title, but because of how much she cared. She pivoted again, stepping into a consulting role at Glossier. There, she experienced the contrast between small, scrappy teams and well-resourced global operations. She learned the value of both—the intimacy of indie hustle and the scale of global polish—and she took those lessons forward.

One of Amani’s greatest strengths is her ability to demystify product development. She explains clearly that the work goes far beyond picking colors. It’s about insight, formulation, packaging, cost, testing, claims, regulations, manufacturing, and long lead times that can stretch years into the future. It’s creativity balanced with logistics, and vision grounded in reality.

She speaks candidly about access—how resources, not talent, often separate indie brands from global giants. When you can’t afford predictive trend reports or expensive forecasting tools, you learn to get scrappy. And scrappy, as Amani reminds us, is not a weakness. It’s a skill.

That clarity extends to how she thinks about the industry itself. When Ami Colé announced its closure, Amani felt the loss deeply—not just as a consumer, but as someone who understands the pressure behind the scenes. She names the hard truth: virality doesn’t guarantee sustainability. Overconsumption, unpredictable demand, and inconsistent investor support continue to threaten Black-owned beauty brands.

And yet, she still sees hope—especially in the community response, the outpouring of support, and the possibility that endings can become evolutions. Since this conversation, Ami Colé founder Diarra Bousso has been appointed Executive Vice President of SKIMS’ beauty and fragrance business. Sometimes, what looks like a closing is really a transformation.

Before we wrapped, Amani pulled back the curtain on something many consumers don’t think about: launch fatigue. The endless repetition. The safety of doing what’s already been done. For her, innovation isn’t about another shade extension—it’s about intention. Purpose. Products that actually serve the people they’re made for.

We ended, as always, with a little joy—decoding corporate phrases like “offer extended,” “regret to inform,” and “we’ll keep you on file,” and laughing at the cultural truths hiding beneath polite language.

And then Amani closed with gratitude—soft, sincere, and deeply felt. She spoke about imposter syndrome, about moments of doubt, and about the power of having someone speak life into you when you’re still finding your footing.

What I love most about Amani is that her faith, her clarity, and her instinct guide her more than titles ever could. She builds beauty with intention—not just to make people look good, but to make them feel seen.

Referred is about connection, legacy, and the quiet ways we shape each other without even realizing it. Amani Richardson leads with vision, consistency, and heart—and that is the heart of her story.