Lingerie and Enlightenment

By JACALYN E.S. BENNETT

ON my father’s side of the family were several generations of respected New York lawyers and judges. My maternal grandmother married the deacon of the Flatbush Dutch Reformed Church in Prospect Park in Brooklyn. Eventually, the borough took some of their family land by eminent domain to develop the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.

My mother was a former fashion model and a perfectionist. She dressed me impeccably: dainty little dresses, white gloves and Mary Janes. She started my modeling career when I was 5. I won many beauty contests and had modeling jobs, but I hated it. I didn’t want to be evaluated for how I looked. I wanted to be in school; I loved increasing my knowledge.

My father exposed me to all kinds of people, cultures and religions, teaching me that we all should be treated as equals.

My sister Elizabeth, a gifted artist nine years older than me, gave me the road map to self-support, creative expression and financial freedom. From the moment I could lift a pencil, she taught me how to draw. Eventually, I became her apprentice and she started paying me.

At the High School of Art and Design in Manhattan, I immersed myself in sewing, weaving, drawing and fabric design. I recognized that cultures weave their history into the patterns of our lives through textile design.

When the 1960s ushered in European styles that weren’t available in the United States, I began designing, sewing and selling garments to stores on East 53rd Street. By the time I was 15, I had saved enough money to move from my parents’ home to my sister’s apartment.

After graduating from the Fashion Institute of Technology, I was offered a job with India Imports. A week later, I was on the outskirts of Bombay, teaching village people how to draw, embroider and paint cotton shirts. The lesson came home very profoundly that a fashion trend decision in New York or Paris can affect the economy of an entire village that makes, for example, hand-blocked printed fabric. Because of that experience, I made a lifelong commitment to incorporate handwork into my own company’s designs.

In the late 1970s, I had the good fortune of working for Martin Trust, president of Mast Industries. I worked on The Limited account with Verna Gibson, who was president and C.E.O. of the Limited Stores division of The Limited, which owned Mast. She taught me a great deal about being in the present moment — even under stress.

In 1984, I founded my own company, GJM, and Victoria’s Secret became my first client. Then, in 1989, when I decided I wanted to develop my own factories, I created Bennett & Company. Now we also design and manufacture items for Soma, Avon and many others.

The company’s business model is based on teachings of Gandhi and principles of the Buddha. I’ve created what I call “a company with a conscience.” That means our 1,800 employees working in China and Sri Lanka and our team of 35 at our headquarters in Newburyport, Mass., treat everyone with the highest respect. We donate to more than 30 nonprofits, from Sarvodaya Suwasetha in Sri Lanka to the Insight Meditation Center of Newburyport.

Eastern philosophy also informs why I chose to specialize in lingerie. Lingerie is literally closest to a woman’s heart. Though no one may see it, lingerie has a lingering influence on how we feel about ourselves during the day — which I hope is special and cared for. When a woman is kind to herself from the inside, she projects that kindness out to others, which then is returned to her. This circle of kindness is at the core of the Buddha’s teachings.

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