A fashion PR career taught Sarah Boyd how much an introduction could change. From SIMPLY’s conferences to The Digital Dept., she has spent the years since finding new ways to put people in the same room.
A stranger at a nightclub mistook Johnny S. Cohen for the person in charge. The mistake became an introduction to fashion PR - and, eventually, The Confessional Showroom.
Before RAGDOLL PR could sell a reputation, Greta Kovacs Schmid had to build one. Her route from fashion publicity to agency ownership runs through small beginnings, candid conversations, and the paperwork behind a creative business.
She spent a decade selling fashion, taught herself to design interiors, and built Clare around a shorter list of paint colors. After selling the company in 2024, Nicole Gibbons gave herself something she had rarely allowed: time to choose again.

A designer resale business led Michelle Wendell into wardrobe rentals, celebrity placement and experiential production. Along the way, the founder of CLD PR kept finding another job that needed doing.
He sold his Ford Taurus and moved to New York to find a place in fashion. Years later, Nate Hinton is helping designers answer a harder question: what should happen after people start looking?
A layoff gave Holly-Jade Page 48 hours to discover who would follow her. The agency she built with Fernando Landeros grew from those relationships, two different careers and a desire to make work fit a life.

A guest list, a getting-ready video, a carefully chosen sample. The founder of Pull Public Relations works where a brand’s ambitions meet someone else’s attention.
LaForce began with the oldest trick in public relations - knowing whom to call. Then the audience moved, the channels multiplied, and the firm quietly built the rest of the machine.
AMPR sells attention, but its real product is continuity - the patient, unglamorous work that keeps brands culturally legible long after the launch party ends.
Savannah Engel started Savi with parties, VIP dressing and one designer friend. Then the parties stopped. What survived was the part of public relations that cannot be counted in clips: knowing who belongs in the room.
A Chicago publicity firm took a frozen treat with a nostalgia problem, retired the googly eyes, and let teenagers do the talking. The result is a tidy lesson in how old brands find young audiences without buying their attention.

The New York communications executive began by slipping party reports under an editor’s door. Four decades later, his work still rests on curiosity, timing and the radical usefulness of showing up.
MVPR built a fashion publicity machine around a deceptively simple idea: a famous person wearing the product is useful, but the echo around that moment is what makes it travel.
Paul Wilmot Communications spent nearly three decades putting fashion in the right room. Its harder trick was learning that, now, the room must also have a checkout button.
L.E.R. Public Relations sells something subtler than attention: the translation of a luxury brand into a story that editors, tastemakers and customers know how to repeat.
A boutique agency spent two decades learning that a press hit is not the finish line. Its wager now is that the useful part of PR begins when somebody clicks, searches - or buys.
Independent designers do not merely need a room full of clothes. They need the right person to walk into it. Johnny Cohen built a business around that walk-in - and published the price of admission.
D’Orazio World built a public-relations business by treating diamonds like library books: lend them to the right stylist, at precisely the right moment, then make sure the world notices.
Nate Hinton built a fashion communications firm around an unfashionable idea: publicity is the final move, not the first. The result is a small New York agency that treats a runway show, a retail introduction and a moment of silence as parts of the same job.
The boutique agency’s advantage is not a secret contact list. It is the speed to notice when the story has changed - and the nerve to change the campaign with it.
Liza Vassell built a small agency around a large idea: for an international label, the shortest route into America may run through a stylist's rack in West Adams.
A small Los Angeles showroom offered overseas labels something more useful than buzz: one room where a dress could meet a buyer, a stylist and, occasionally, Hollywood.
& Public Relations does its most legible work in the smallest type on the page - supplying the clothes and jewelry that help a stylist turn a pitch into a picture.
Greta Kovacs Schmid built RAGDOLL PR around a small but consequential promise: tell clients what publicity can do, document the work, and never pretend a placement is guaranteed.
The Los Angeles agency connects fashion brands with stylists, editors and creators. Its revealing work happens around the photograph: choosing the people, moving the samples and making the results legible.
A fashion brand can buy an ad. Getting its clothes into the right hands is a different business. Inside the Los Angeles agency connecting sample racks, celebrity dressing, and the sale that comes next.
A dress on a rack is inventory. A dress chosen by a stylist has somewhere to go. Red Light Public Relations has built its business around that consequential little journey.
The Los Angeles communications agency helps creative brands find an international audience. Its most revealing project put Ukrainian design in a New York room and let the objects do some of the talking.
A fashion PR agency built around two kinds of access: the editor’s desk and the stylist’s rack. Michele Marie PR turns that proximity into campaigns spanning celebrity dressing, commerce coverage, and the occasional very unglamorous delivery.