Ambassador Digital Magazine’s Editor-in-Chief, Musa Jackson, recently sat down with award-winning fashion designer Frederick Anderson. Born in Memphis and raised in North Carolina, Anderson is a true renaissance man. From an early age, he immersed himself in the arts, playing violin and piano, sketching, and dancing ballet. After attending the North Carolina School of the Arts, Anderson’s artistic journey led him to the Joffrey Ballet at 18 and, by 20, he was on Broadway with a role in “Cats.” While performing in the Tony Award-winning original cast of “Crazy For You,” he attended the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) and transitioned into fashion design with Douglas Hannant. Over the past two decades, Anderson has been at the heart of the fashion world. His first designer venture was with Douglas Hannant, grew into one of New York’s most exclusive fashion lines, dressing high-profile women and celebrities such as Beyoncé, Halle Berry, Janet Jackson, and Sarah Jessica Parker. In 2010, Anderson partnered with perfumer Robert Piguet to create “Douglas Hannant de Robert Piguet.” Two years after departing from Douglas Hannant in 2014, he launched and became president of the Hanley Mellon Collection, owned by Matthew Mellon. In 2016 Frederick Anderson founded the Blue Jacket Fashion Show to raise awareness about prostate cancer. Over nine years, this star-studded event has become a cultural phenomenon, uniting fashion, entertainment, sports, healthcare, and media to address men’s health issues. In 2017, Anderson introduced a capsule collection titled “Black Like Me,” which received critical acclaim, followed by the signature Frederick Anderson Collection in Fall 2018. His growing reputation and popularity has made the Frederick Anderson Collection a must-see at New York Fashion Week. Anderson was the 2022 recipient of the Fashion Group International Rising Star Award in Womenswear. In May 2024, he opened the Frederick Anderson Atelier in NoMad, NYC, offering a personalized and intimate shopping experience that reflects his unique sophisticated and chic aesthetic.
MUSA: You’ve always been artistic. From playing, violin and piano to being a dancer. You even danced as young man for the Joffrey Ballet. Then on Broadway in Cats. Tell us a bit about those experiences?
FREDERICK: I was 16 when I first came to New York. I was in boarding school and spent my summers dancing with the Joffrey Ballet. Later, I was recruited to join Joffrey II, but I injured my knee, so I never made it. Since I couldn’t go on the road, I ended up auditioning for Cats with a busted knee—and I got the show. However, I couldn’t start right away because they didn’t have a role for me yet. A year later, they called me, and I went back. I actually celebrated my twenty-first birthday in the show. At that point, that was my dream—I had lived it. I did a few shows, but the big one was Crazy for You because we won the Tony Award. I was in the original cast. With Cats, I joined later, but by the time I did, it had already been running for ten years. That experience became the foundation for thinking about what I wanted to do with my life. If I wasn’t going to be a star, then what else was I going to do? I saw so many wonderful performers with so much to give who spent their entire careers in the chorus, only to burn out. I didn’t want to be one of those people.
MUSA: After meeting your then life partner Douglas. You found your calling in fashion first with the Douglas Hannant brand. What was that like and what did it teach you?
FREDERICK: I met Douglas in 1991, and we were together until 2012. I had always been interested in fashion—I loved sketching. When I met Douglas, I was producing events, which is how I also met Fern Mallis. I was working on events for 7th on Sixth, designing experiences for all of her sponsors. I worked with L’Oréal, Clairol, Shiseido, and J&J, which led me to Condé Nast, where I helped launch Self magazine, Cargo magazine, and Domino magazine. I became the go-to person for experiential events.
I could illustrate like crazy, and I often did big drawing presentations. I worked with Condé Nast for a long time, which was one of the main reasons I took my name off the collection. Originally, it was Anderson Hannant, but at the time, there were no Black designers, and I hated the idea of two designers standing there talking at the same time—it just looked silly to me. I was involved in so many other things that I thought we could simply market the brand under Douglas’s name. He was really cute, and I figured we could market him.
When we launched in the late ’90s, there wasn’t a single Black designer in the industry. The early ’90s had Patrick Kelly and Byron Lars, but by then, they were gone. Even Kevan Hall had left Halston, leaving an empty market. There was no one to visualize and make it happen. When I spoke to people about it, they simply didn’t believe that the designer consumer would buy from a Black person. That’s the same reason we didn’t see Black models for so long—there was this false belief that women of all nationalities wouldn’t buy from a Black designer. It took a few years to change that narrative, which I think is amazing.
MUSA: Starting your namesake collection and sustaining it is no easy feat. What propelled you to start your own line?
FREDERICK: Douglas had decided he’d had enough—he hit a wall. Being in the middle was worse than being small or large. We were making around five million dollars a year, but the truth was, we needed to be making ten million just to cover everything. When you’re small, like I am now, the numbers are low enough that I can operate hand-to-mouth. But back then, we had ten employees, two sales teams, and PR teams in both New York and LA. The business had grown so much that it became unsustainable. Douglas imploded.
We were making money, and we should have been happy, but we were more miserable than ever. He left the business—and at the same time, we were breaking up. That was a major transition for me. I went to work for Matthew Mellon, who had started Jimmy Choo. At the time, he and his wife, Nicole Hanley, were launching a new company, and she wanted to be a designer. They asked me if I’d help build their brand. I told them, “My partner is leaving, I don’t know what I’m doing with Douglas Hannant, and we’re 50/50 partners who are breaking up. But let’s give it a try.” They gave me a contract, paid me very well, and I quickly built the business into something sustainable. But then Matthew and Nicole got divorced, Matthew passed away, and the whole thing turned into a mess. After that experience, I needed time to just sit and breathe. I had just married Dimitri, and I wanted to have a real life moment. I’d spent years constantly working. Douglas and I had an incredible run from 2005 to 2012, but it was brutal. We worked 20-hour days just to keep up. We were selling to fifteen Neiman Marcus stores and more than twenty Saks locations. We were in every boutique. The business became a machine we couldn’t sustain because we simply didn’t have enough capital. You have to remember, in fashion, you pay for production up front, ship the goods, and then retailers pay you later—but there are always payment delays. It didn’t matter if you shipped $1.5 million worth of merchandise that season. You still had to pay your employees, rent, and operating costs on time. Everything was due. On top of that, I never fully exercised my own design vision. When you’re working with a partner, we had an agreement—nothing went into the collection unless we both approved it. That meant constant creative struggles. Douglas was much more into flowery, ladylike designs, while I was more sportswear-driven and had a more urban sensibility, even though I’m from North Carolina. I had a very different perspective on how clothing should be put together. I never believed in full suits—I thought sportswear was the way forward because people wanted to style their outfits their own way. That fundamental difference in vision led to a lot of friction. What gave me the confidence to launch my own collection was my experience at Hanley Mellon. In just two years, I built a brand that landed in The New York Times, Bloomingdale’s, and boutiques everywhere. It was crazy. That made me wonder—what would it look like if I designed for myself?
I had never handled the full design process alone, and that’s why I launched Black Like Me. By then, times had changed. Twenty years earlier, there were almost no Black designers. Now, many had emerged, particularly in streetwear and urban fashion. I finally saw a space where I could exist in the industry. Black Like Me was a capsule collection, and I made enough money to fund the next one. That’s how I operated for a few years—until COVID hit. The pandemic forced me to slow down. I spent that time at home, sketching, cutting costs, and simplifying everything. I didn’t have a huge team around me anymore—just me and my seamstress, working one-on-one. And I loved it. It wasn’t the constant stress of chasing money and trying to keep up with an impossible machine. Of course, I’ll always be chasing money—fashion is expensive—but now it feels different. When you create a microcosm where you love what you do, it doesn’t feel as crazy. Before, I was trapped in a machine I could never win in. Now, I am the engine, and it’s a much more sustainable place for me to be. I trust myself. Looking back, I realize I’ve always been the engine—for events, for Douglas Hannant, for Hanley Mellon. I was always the one making it happen. But I never fully understood the power I had. Since COVID, over the past two years, I’ve put the pedal to the metal. I finally see the strength I’ve always had—but never fully taken advantage of. And now, I’m doing that with everything.
MUSA: How would you best describe your brand and what kind of woman do you dress?
FREDERICK: It’s every woman I know. I love women—I’m just not sexually involved with them. I’m madly in love with women in every other way. I think they should rule the world. I see them as much stronger than men, and I’m in awe of them. There isn’t just one woman who inspires me. Over the past twenty years, I’ve experienced so much, and my work is a compilation of all those experiences. It’s more about how I perceive my ultimate woman rather than idealizing a single person. I don’t see women as Barbie dolls—I see them as artistic forms, and I love manipulating ideas in exciting, new ways. I’m focused on making women stronger. Women tell me that when they wear my clothes, everyone comes over and starts talking to them. That’s because there’s something innately powerful in what I create. It comes from my deep appreciation for strong women. And the women I design for are powerful. I don’t have a single muse, but every season, a woman will catch my eye—someone who looks fantastic in some way—and she stays in my mind. That becomes the impetus for what I’m creating at that moment.
MUSA: Nine year ago you launched the very successful Blue Jacket Fashion show in New York. It’s grown to become to amazing annual event. What’s the purpose behind the show and its mission?
FREDERICK: It’s the other side of me. I’m very spiritual. I was working with Esquire magazine, producing events for them. I created the Esquire Lounge. At the time, the fashion industry was focused on breast cancer awareness, but there was nothing for men. I was in my late 40s, going through my own health journey, wondering if something was wrong with me. Thankfully, there wasn’t—but the experience made me realize that I was getting older and wasn’t prepared for it. And for someone like me, who is very meticulous and always prepared, that was unsettling. That’s what sparked this idea. The breast cancer movement did an incredible job of encouraging women to be proactive—check your breasts, get a mammogram, stay informed about your health. But that message never reached men. We need someone to champion men’s health. As a Black man, I know we’re fighters when it comes to prostate cancer, but this is bigger than that. It’s about accepting my manhood—recognizing that I’m no longer twenty and that I have no more excuses. I can’t blame anyone else.
That’s the whole idea behind The Blue Jacket. You get that first blue blazer when you’re young, a symbol of stepping into manhood. But real manhood is about more than just appearances—it’s about taking responsibility for yourself, including your health. Being a man means being accountable. Don’t call me to tell me you’re sick if you’ve never taken care of yourself. I had a friend call me about his prostate cancer diagnosis—after I’d been telling him for nine years to get tested. Now he’s at stage three. That’s not acceptable. You’re not listening.
I want men to understand the power of taking responsibility. It’s the same journey I took in fashion—owning my path, taking control. There are two sides to me. The Blue Jacket represents the world I built when I worked on events with Condé Nast. The other side is the sexy, chic world of Frederick. One side is about giving back, the other is about indulging in my creativity. I feed my ego on one side, but I need to give back on the other to balance that. I never designed men’s jackets myself. I don’t dress men—I don’t do that. Once I start making it about me, then it is about me. And at that point, it’s no longer about giving back. That’s a hard balance to maintain, especially when the press keeps asking, “Why aren’t you walking the runway?” I know it would get press. But this isn’t about media attention—it’s about conversations. The reason The Blue Jacket has such a big impact is that I only put people on the runway who have a story to tell. That’s how we create awareness—by involving people with big voices and reach, people who are out there talking and making noise. That’s why it has grown so much. Everyone involved is spreading the message, and that’s what fuels it. The message is coming through me, but the message is not me. And that’s where the power comes from.
MUSA: What obstacles did you face deciding to open up your signature atelier in Nomad?
FREDERICK: I have to pay for it. It’s not on Madison Avenue. I know it’s a challenge, but it’s an obtainable challenge. My brand is six years old; it’s not like I’m twenty years old. It’s a very young brand. I get a lot of attention. Actualizing for any designer, for a woman to buy, is a difficult task. Even with all the connections that I have, it’s still difficult. You still have to really work and network and get women into your clothes. But on top of that, I’m a Black designer. That adds another label. I hate to bring that in, but in that world, I’m reminded of it when I do interviews. I’m telling you, as another Black person who understands, that I recognize it is part of the formula. This time around, I’m ready for the battle. The atelier is doing fantastic. It will do better. It’s the beginning of a journey; you get me and understand my sophistication, how I see clothing, and for that, it’s a conversation that needed to happen. In the future, will that be my end game? No, but it’s the perfect conversation of where I am now. Honestly, people were confused. Seeing me come from Douglas Hannant, where we were doing very ladylike, kind of upright clothing, to see me on the other side at Hanley Mellon, where I said I did not want to design because I needed a break. Creativity takes everything out of you because it is you. It’s the one thing that channels through authentically: your creativity. When you’re compounding that with presenting that to the public, where you are going to be critiqued, it becomes a horrible experience. That’s what beat up Douglas and other designers. Because you think you have the best creative idea and this story that is unique, and it isn’t resonating. And that is the biggest obstacle for every designer. I wasn’t ready to meet that, and now I am. So, the atelier is a final idea. It’s like home. You see me. You see press on me. The clothing is getting more idea-specific. You kind of narrow it all down, and the atelier gives it gravitas. It’s also a place they can sit with me, and they can also buy it. After another six months to a year of this, where does this go? It’s not even a year since I opened. What is the next step? The atelier is destination-focused, but now I’m getting a broader name, and people are asking about how to get to my clothes. Unfortunately, Saks imploded last year. Not saying I won’t do that again. I’m looking at what that would mean again, reentering department stores. I still sell to boutiques. But department store business is where the money is. If it’s handled well. If it’s not handled well, it’s also the thing that can put you out of business. It can be really great when the volume’s great and have great management; it can also destroy you. So, it’s a volatile business. Mass is a volatile business. I haven’t perfected it for myself quite yet. I’m working on that now. That’s why the atelier is important, so that I can feel what this feels like. In order to tackle it, you’ve got to know what fight you’re having. You can’t win a war if you don’t know what the parameters are. So, that’s what this was with the atelier. To do something affordable in a space that was chic. In an environment where I can have people in. It’s the perfect thing for right now.
MUSA: You’re the 2022 winner of the prestigious Fashion Group International Award for Best Women’s designer. What does that mean to you getting this recognition from your peers?
FREDERICK: Over the past two years, I’ve realized that finding your power is more important than finding your voice. While having a voice is essential, without power, it means nothing. Combining the two and having the strength to say, “I don’t need anyone else,” has been transformative for me. I came to the realization that I can make my own patterns, sketch my own clothes, and handle the marketing myself. I have a full 360-degree understanding of my craft, and these twenty years have given me that. Working with Douglas, we made everything together; I did every fitting. That experience gave me an inside track to all these women—I dressed all of their mothers and was welcomed into their homes. Life presents itself, and if you take the journey openly and honestly, it will lead you on the right path if you listen. It’s when we impose our own judgments and try to control the journey that we mess up. I’ve allowed the journey to naturally lead me to where I should be. I’m naturally altruistic; I like giving back. My personal relationship with God is very important to me; it guides me every day. I wake up every morning feeling thankful and always remind myself how blessed I am. Even in my toughest times, with only five dollars in the bank, I never forget how fortunate I am—more blessed than the average person. Through that perspective, I’m able to achieve. As Black people, we’re often told we lack so many things. Our power is very important to us. I assert my power often because I have to show people—and myself—that without stepping forward in that power, nothing will happen. Due to the color of my skin and being gay, I’m naturally diminished in society’s eyes. If I don’t exert my power and confidence, I won’t be uplifted. I experienced this while running the collection with Douglas. He was a beautiful man; I thought he was perfect to lead the collection. But watching him implode, I realized I was the one with all the power. I lifted myself out of that moment; it was all part of my journey. That’s why I never talk about him with bitterness. What I learned about myself during that time brought me to where I am now. Everything was valuable.
MUSA: What advice would you give an aspiring designer in this very unstable climate we find ourselves in?
FREDERICK: I would not want to launch in this climate without having history. It’s not an easy climate. There’s no more need for clothing because it’s saturated. Too many people in the market. Too much noise. And the big guys have too much money. It’s like what’s happening in every industry. You have big capital at the top, and it’s killing everyone underneath them. They have the ability to do so. They’re cannibalizing everyone, even getting the department stores. The reason why the sales, even for the new young designers, are bad is because you’re being bombarded by Louis Vuitton and these big brands. It’s because they do social media and advertising. You want that piece. Of course, you want it in a time where the people in the middle are being squeezed so much that they can’t buy like they used to buy. They buy one or two pieces a month. Guess where they go? To the brands they see repetitively over and over. They can afford that marketing. So there is very little space for people who are new. Even though your idea could be fantastic, so I would say you have to be in it for the long term. It’s not about this year or two years; it’s about twenty years from now. If you have that focus, jump in. If you think you’re going to be a star in two years, it won’t matter. We know so many stars over the last few years who shot up and got shot down. That’s the market right now. We are so quick to move to the next thing because this is not working. Therefore, they are killing off people so quickly, looking for the one who has substance. It’s about market viability. And that takes years and years. I’m building a place in the market because I’ve been around for twenty-five years. Not because I’m the hottest thing today. I’ve been purposely structuring my life and the stories to build where I am today. It’s a story that’s real, that has a background and has a future. Therefore, there’s more gravitas to it. There’s more weight to it. I want to take it and slowly expand. I would tell a young designer: learn, learn, learn. The best thing I ever learned was how to make clothes. Through those years, it turned me into Frederick Anderson.
Cover Star: FREDERICK ANDERSON
@frederickanderson
Photographer: @brittcarpenterstudio
Hair/ Makeup: @greggbrockingtonbeauty
Model: @go_goldie
Styled by: @iammusajackson
Art direction: @greggbrockingtonbeauty
Shot on location at Frederick Anderson Atelier at 110 East 31st St. in Nomad.
NY TEAM:
Founder & Editor In Chief:
Musa Jackson @iammusajackson
Creative Director/ Cover & Editorial Graphics:
Paul Morejon @Paulmorejon