The ethnic hair-care industry is in grave danger, to hear Cottrell and other insiders describe it.
"The problem with these young blacks is they don't know the difference between cash flow and profit," Comer says. "I tell you what. I look at this business today and when I was out in California doing about $12 million [in sales], and I had more profit there than I have today at $40 million."
Comer has set his energies on an industry association he helped form more than 15 years ago--the American Health and Beauty Aids Institute, or AHBAI. "My plan was to get some sanity back into the industry," he says. "Because too many new guys were coming in and doing crazy things."
But he is unhappy with AHBAI. The association has not been successful sharing its simplest message with consumers: If a product sports AHBAI's "proud lady" symbol, then it is made by a black company with a commitment to giving back to the black community. Since consumers don't know any better, explains Ed Gardner, president of Chicago-based Sof Sheen, they have no product loyalty. With all the crazed competition, nobody wins.
Comer's forays into Africa also have not been successful, by and large. He has forsaken his attempts to export to South Africa because the duties and tariffs are too high. He considered building a factory there, but with the volatility of the domestic market and the cost of establishing a plant on another continent, he has retreated and is now looking for franchisees instead. He has begun slashing the budget in Dallas, eliminating donations to many charities, hoping to preserve the company's dwindling profits. He has pledged not to lay off any of his 236 employees, but keeps a wary eye on the bottom line. "Some of the things that have happened to us," says Comer, "we just can't have it."
Comer Cottrell is hunkering down.
He still manages to give to Tom Weise, a hometown Catholic priest whose lifetime work is to save inner-city, predominantly minority Catholic schools. Weise, ironically, is pastor to the Morrisons at Most Pure Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Mobile.
The qualities that got Cottrell where he is, Weise says, will see him through difficult days: "I think after all is said and done, he will emerge stronger in every possible way."
As Comer slow-ly relinquishes control of Pro-Line's daily operations to Rene Brown Cottrell--his daughter from his first marriage--and her husband Eric Brown, the dean of the industry is now taking care of business on both fronts. His office seems like a family meeting place, where he alternately teases relatives and friends who drop in or ignores everyone in the room to study documents. He spends more time with his boys, and goes on occasional, friendly outings with his wife.
Now that the marriage between Isabell and Comer appears to be over, the brothers Cottrell spend more time together and have reconciled some of their differences. "We are closer now than ever," Comer says.
Comer Cottrell Sr. passed away February 3 after a long illness; the family held a private ceremony for him in Dallas. On one side of the chapel sat Comer, Isabell, and the couple's children. On the other side sat Jim, Gloria, and their family. The funeral ceremony was short and quiet, and everyone seemed to defer to Comer.
After the funeral, Comer made his way to Atlanta, where he met with other ethnic hair-care manufacturers and distributors. Surprisingly, a discussion there turned to the subject of the much-maligned jerry curl, in which consumers seem to be showing a renewed interest. The businessmen began toying with the idea that the curl could be gloriously resurrected.
As the black hair-care industry's most irrepressible entrepreneur, Comer was already getting excited about the possibilities. He knows this volatile business, and anything can happen. "It might be coming back," he muses today.
If the speculation proves true, he says, Pro-Line--the industry's survivor--will be in a position to capitalize on it. After all, the Curly Kit has been the most profitable product in Pro-Line's 25-year-history.
"There's never been anything like it," Comer says wistfully.
The jerry curl is dead. Long live the jerry curl.
