Style Out of Africa

Anna Trzebinski's workshop lies on the edge of a leafy giraffe sanctuary in the exclusive Nairobi neighborhood of Karen. The lofty white space with high, beamed ceilings used to house the studio of her late husband, artist Tonio Trzebinski. But five years ago, he was mysteriously murdered, and Anna—broke and with two children to feed—took it over to fulfill her creative ambition: designing clothes inspired by Africa's natural beauty and rich tribal cultures.

Today the studio is filled with the clatter of sewing machines and the voices of dozens of tailors and Masai beaders busily working on brightly colored leathers and suedes. Trzebinski's creations fill the closets of the Hollywood elite and European royalty, including Michelle Pfeiffer, Jada Pinkett Smith and Princess Caro-line of Monaco. "Anna uses traditional African techniques in a glamorous and modern way," says designer Paul Smith, who carries her line in his shops, where the $800 flamingo and guinea-fowl feather shawl is a best seller. "Often we buy one or two of something simply because it is unique, and that is something our customers come to us for."

The imposing Trzebinski is one of a number of popular African designers increasingly exporting clothing and accessories to Europe and the United States. In the rapidly evolving fashion world, they offer top boutiques an authentic take on the tribal trends currently dominating catwalks and fashion magazines. Indeed, these new designers are proving that Milan, Paris and New York are no longer the center of the fashion universe: anyone with talent and a Web site can create a fan base. And they are in turn setting the standards for established, big-name labels looking for something fresh and raw. "Africa is a haven of inspiration," says the Tanzanian-born, Nairobi-based designer and art collector Lisa Christoffersen, who has outfitted Ralph Fiennes, Rachel Weiss, Jane Seymour and Gen. Tommy Franks.

Christoffersen says she owes her success to the continent's rising visibility. "Africa for many years now has been the flavor of fashion," she says. "It has really opened the door for us." She credits the Internet with expanding her business and her brand, allowing clients and boutiques around the world to import her special fabrics. Her hand-painted, African-inspired pashminas are made from the undercoat of Himalayan mountain goats, the world's most exclusive fabric. The cashmere sweaters, bedspreads and throws are often copied from antique ceremonial cloths of the Kuba Kingdom in Congo. "You know that no one else at the party is going to be wearing the same thing," she says. "In fact, you become allergic to anything else because they are so divine."

Carolyn Kapusia has also found overseas success by capitalizing on her upbringing. Her mother, a French anthropologist, married a Masai warrior when Kapusia was still a child, and she grew up in the wilds of Kenya, covered in Masai beads and traditional skins. Her company, Nomad, which best describes this tall brunette, has stocked the shelves at Barneys New York, Maxfield LA, Joseph in London and Henry Beguelin. Donna Karan has been selling and wearing Kapusia's chunky gold gem-embedded jewelry for years. When not at home in the Great Rift Valley, where Kapusia and her husband pilot their planes, she is often throwing lucrative trunk shows in Aspen, Houston and New York.

Many Kenyan-based designers see a higher purpose to their work: to employ and create livelihoods for thousands of impoverished residents. With more than 60 percent of locals living on less than a dollar a day, the high-end fashion industry creates substantial incomes for women who might not otherwise find jobs. Trzebinski, who estimates that she indirectly supports more than 800 people as well as a dying tradition of craftsmanship, admits her clothes would cost less if they were made in China but insists she's not working for the bottom line. "The fact is that the beading is done by a Masai woman in Kenya and not in a sweatshop halfway around the world," she says. "I want to build a brand that stands for something. The profit margin is so ridiculously low for me, but it's a responsibility I can't just walk away from." Kapusia feels the same way; her jewelry is made in her workshop in the Great Rift Valley, where she trains and employs members of the same community in which she grew up.