Last Sunday, the dark and thunderous clouds that had been hanging over the city of Atlanta for 14 long years finally parted to reveal a blindingly bright ray of sunshine: She by Shereé, in all of its glory.
Even for those who aren’t religious, the culmination of a meme over a decade in the making is enough to consider some higher power. That’s because Real Housewives of Atlanta star Shereé Whitfield walking down the runway at her highly anticipated, long-awaited fashion show in a triumphant slow-motion didn’t just resemble Jesus leaving his tomb early to gag the girls—it was better.
Yes, after nearly 15 years, She by Shereé has finally come to market. And how gloriously kismet that Shereé’s infamous joggers have finally seen the light of day in September-Spring-Summer! But it wouldn’t be a Shereé Whitfield event if there wasn’t some level of unexpected catastrophe to balance out the jubilation. The show may have gone off without a hitch at the very last second, but the line’s in-tandem online launch was far from smooth. This disconnect is uniquely Shereé, and it’s what made this season finale of Real Housewives of Atlanta a beautifully messy masterpiece.
For those who haven’t sat through all 8,904 hours (yes, I just did the math) of Bravo’s most consistently splendid Housewives franchise to understand what we’re talking about today, let me fill you in with a little explainer.
The first thing you have to know is that Shereé Whitfield is the most ingeniously brilliant person to ever walk this earth, so jot that down. Once that’s noted in your margins, we can move on. From the moment she joined Real Housewives of Atlanta in Season 1, Shereé was outspoken about her love of fashion. By Season 2, she was chattering about creating her own fashion line, She by Shereé. A catastrophic series of events (unpaid designers, poor-quality samples, and an ego bigger than the entire state of Georgia—typical Housewives stuff) led to a middling She by Shereé fashion “presentation,” after which the brand faded into the franchise’s folklore.
That is, at least until Shereé rejoined the cast in Seasons 9 and 10, the latter of which featured a reunion moment that made meme history. When Andy Cohen asked Shereé about the status of her line, the answer stumbled out of her mouth in a near-burp of anxiety. “JOGGERS…” she said, petting her ponytail for comfort like a therapy dog. “It’s more lifestyle…yeah, athletic. But lifestyle.” When Cohen followed up with a simple “When?”, Shereé responded with a great gift of magi: “Uh, probably… more September. Or, uh. That is, uh, spring-summer. September-sho-show, spring-summer.”
Unfortunately for Shereé, it was a verbal misstep-turned-viral moment, enough to force Shereé “Whitty” Whitfield to consider her options: let it go down as a somewhat embarrassing meme and learn to laugh at herself, or come back stronger with a full She by Shereé line and a real fashion show to boot.
Four years later, after another series of delayed samples and accusations of not paying her collaborators, Shereé defied all odds when the lights dimmed and She by Shereé stormed the runway. The line featured everything from Shereé’s famous joggers to sports bras and sweaters—all with various forms of awkward ruching and uncomfortable bunching. But with everyone else expecting the worst, it was more than enough to call the show a runaway runway success.
All that was left for Shereé to do was pair the episode’s eventual airing months later with a successful e-commerce launch. Fans of the show and longtime Shereé supporters such as myself were ready to burn our dollars. A quick refresh of the brand’s website after the credits rolled was disconcerting, to say the least.
The homepage took about two minutes to fully load on my mobile browser, and when it did, none of the buttons were working. I tapped “SHOP” furiously with my hot little thumbs upward of 500 times, screaming and crying like the empath I am, feeling Shereé’s equal panic and pain.
I thought that being clever enough to go around this technological mishap by typing in the homepage URL-slash-“shop” would get me dibs on my joggers first. It instead led me to what looked like an error page for a Xanga or Angelfire site from 2002. Another knife to the heart. Why Shereé didn’t just simply make a chic Squarespace domain with a sleek, ready-to-use template is beyond me, but I’m not the brilliant couturier.
It took about 90 minutes after the season finale ended for the e-commerce portion of the site to finally go live. When it did, I have to admit I balked at the price: $125 for a pair of joggers was a price point a bit more steep than the $50 I was ready to dole out before shipping. After a moment of weighing whether or not I was going to be that committed to the bit, I decided to bite the bullet—only to find out that the site had crashed again.
I decided to put my Special Joggers on hold and tucked myself in for some sweet, restful sleep, knowing Shereé had pulled it off. But the next day, I awoke to accusations of Shereé purchasing wholesale fast fashion pieces already being sold on sites like Shein and Amazon, retrofitting them with her logo to mark up the price 20 percent.
Suddenly, the price point made total sense. Shereé selling $7 workout sets for $125 is a steal! Adding the Whitfield Crest onto any item automatically increases its value by 350 percent, which I know from religiously watching years of Shark Tank—and I know the Sharks would agree! It’s really basic math. Keep up, internet sleuths.
“Everyone who follows Shereé Whitfield knows that everything I do is quality,” Shereé told Women’s Health after the Twitter detective accusations came to light. “I am quality.” And she’s completely correct! A knockoff bag from Canal Street may look the same as the real thing, but the stitching will pop in two weeks. She by Shereé is custom couture, among the ranks of the greatest maisons in Paris and Milan. I would trust Shereé Whitfield with my life, so of course I trust her to ensure the quality of a pair of joggers.
As for the site’s crash, Shereé told Women’s Health, “It sounds bad, but it’s actually a good thing.” While I am not in agreement with that, Shereé has access to a world and knowledge that we don’t, so I trust her to make the right choice. Now if she could only find some good web developers instead of whom I assume created her site, her Italian mastiff, Gotti.
“This is just another example of overpromising and under-delivering,” Shereé said of her developers’ assurances that the site could handle up to 300,000 users. “But I am so grateful. I stand in prayer; I have chills even thinking about how many people are still interested at this time.”
And as much as I love to joke, giggle, and kick my feet in the air with mirth about these things, that statement really does move me. I’ve written before about my love of all things Shereé, going as far as to sweat eight gallons in 90-degree heat to find a bag of chips she’s partial to.
There’s just something about The Whitfield Mystique that I find endlessly captivating. I think it’s her persistence to prove that she can go the extra mile and succeed—not just to her fellow Housewives and to the world, but to herself too. She by Shereé is here after 14 long years, and despite some bumps in the road, there is no way but forward. And when the site finally goes live again in 2028, I’ll be the first in line to buy my $125 pair of joggers.
