B. Number One

There are millions of women in America named Barbara Smith.  There are millions more elsewhere.  So it seems appropriate that Barbara Smith the model-turned-restaurateur, who died this past Saturday, would reduce her Christian name to an initial . . . because she was special enough to go by one.  

As B. Smith, she destroyed negative stereotypes of models and black women and made history in the process.  She was the first black model to appear on the cover of Mademoiselle in 1976, and she became a leading model with the Wilhelmina agency.  As soon as she made the transition to that of an entrepreneur, the Pennsylvania-born Ms. Smith parlayed her culinary and decorative talents into opening her first B. Smith restaurant in 1986, on the corner of Eighth Avenue and West 47th Street in New York City, later moving around the corner to West Midtown's Restaurant Row.  She opened two more, one in Sag Harbor out on Long Island and another at Washington, D.C.'s railway station.  Her restaurant chain was admittedly small, but she put quality over quantity; they were regarded as three of the best eateries in America.

Ms. Smith also designed products for home decorating and became something of a "lifestyle guru," much like Martha Stewart, but with greater humility and more modesty.  Her interest in domestic presentation led to a regular TV show but also led to a collection of home decoration available at Bed, Bath & Beyond and even a furniture collection with the Clayton Marcus company.  She cast a legacy of worthy and substantial accomplishments far and wide.

Sadly, much of that legacy has passed with her.  She developed an early case of Alzheimer's disease and had to close her restaurants and give up her TV show.  Her work lives on her cookbooks and her 2016 chronicle of her bout with Alzheimer's "Before I Forget."

I first became aware of B. Smith when I caught her on a television talk show focusing on top models, and her intelligence and her confident poise was like a meal of crow to anyone who tuned in expecting her to be a ditzy cover girl.  (Fortunately, her restaurants offered more savory poultry than that.)  I regret that I, a friend of many top models, never got to meet her, but my greatest regret is that I never featured her on my beautiful-women picture blog, which only depicts living women, while she was alive.  And I know that this obituary isn't enough to compensate for that. She really was a wonderful and distinguished woman.  RIP.