At first sight, Eileen Fisher's house seems fairly traditional. With gleaming wood floors and a central staircase, it's the kind of comfortably luxurious home you'd expect a successful businesswoman to own. And then you notice something less conventional: The walls are completely bare. The effect is to draw your gaze to a sweeping view of New York's Hudson River. Following a similar principle, Fisher's clothes are designed not to call attention to themselves but instead to show off the wearer.

I've been aware of Eileen Fisher since I moved here from England in the early 1990s. At a time when Versace and Gucci were pushing the limits of ostentation, Fisher offered comfort and elegant simplicity. Ten years later, I set out to write a book about the rise of female entrepreneurship. I wanted to know why we were starting businesses at twice the rate of men and why, despite less funding, those ventures had been so successful.

Eileen Fisher seemed a natural to study: Sales have tripled over the past 10 years; there are now 41 stores, and the clothes are also available at more than 1,000 department stores and specialty shops. With competitors like Liz Claiborne and the Limited in a tailspin, the company was singled out by trade newspaper Women's Wear Daily as a "pocket of prosperity." Every year, Fisher's staff bonuses are determined by profits. This past December, each eligible employee got an extra eight and a half weeks' salary -- the biggest bonus ever. This is a company that was started with $350 by an interior designer who couldn't sew. What better example could there be of women's ability to beat the economic odds?

Today, Fisher, 57, perches on a cream sofa, her black clothes setting off her silver hair, in a room where shiny green apples provide the only color. Back in 1984, she began with the idea that clothes should work as a system: Tops and bottoms should be designed to mix and match; one year's pieces ought to go with another's. Basic shapes -- shells, straight trousers, cardigans, and jackets -- could be made from soft, easy-to-care-for fabrics. "I used to go into stores and get sick," Fisher says. "I love clothes, but they were too confusing. I wanted them to be simple and comfortable. I wasn't thinking about building a company -- just about putting together a line of clothes that I wanted to wear."

Fisher couldn't cut patterns, so she made a few sketches, then found a patternmaker to manufacture samples. Her lack of experience immediately became obvious at her first trade show. "I'd forgotten to price the clothes!" she says. "I just thought that if people loved what I loved, it would work." She came home with only $3,000 worth of orders. Her boyfriend at the time -- she calls him "a real naysayer" -- derided her lack of financial sense. Her mother was horrified, and her father worried that she knew nothing about business. But at the next trade show, she added more pieces and took in $40,000. "People were lining up," Fisher says. She dumped her boyfriend; the business took off.

Twenty-four years later, the company has 700 employees and a quarter-billion dollars a year in sales. For any apparel company, the critical sign of success is what's known as sell-through, or the percentage of clothes that are sold without discounts. At Saks Fifth Avenue, Eileen Fisher is consistently one of the best performers. The same is true at Macy's, says Denise Lawson-Curry, a vice president at the store. At Bloomingdale's, too, the sell-through is high, says Stephanie Solomon, vice president for fashion direction: "In a hectic society, there is something calming and Zen-like about these clothes."

Fisher's core customer is over 40, busy with family and career; she follows trends without being exactly trendy. Some of the clothes seem suitable for yoga; all look perfect for shopping at the farmers' market. Of course, the look isn't for everyone. It isn't hip enough to satisfy a woman who lives in Helmut Lang or sexy enough for those who like Versace; it's too loose and flowing for a corporate executive who needs boardroom armor. There have been seasons when customers were left bewildered as to how the pieces fit together. "Around 1998, we got a little full of ourselves and thought we could sell anything," Fisher says with a shudder.

Now each month the company produces roughly 85 items, 20 of which are the skeleton of the system -- tunics, V-neck dresses, leggings, and skirts that fall below the knee -- nothing too tight, too tailored or that looks as if it will be dated by next month. The designs emerge from a process known as Deep Dive, in which 80 to 100 employees from all parts of the company (pattern cutting, sales, design, retail) come together for two days to discuss ideas. When I sat in, I thought at first that I was watching a typical brainstorming session. But as Deep Dive unfolded, I found that it included not only trend reports and input from customers but also group movement sessions and meditation. I realized that Fisher was attempting to tap the deepest instincts of everyone she works with.

There are three Deep Dives every year, and although they used to make some employees nervous (not everyone wants to mine her unconscious in a group), staffers are now eager to be invited. While Fisher regards herself as the editor of the collections, she shuns corporate hierarchy, with the result that wheels turn slowly. (I've watched a room full of people struggle for hours to decide how to conduct just one part of a meeting.) The company still has no perfume or makeup, products that can generate the biggest profits, and best-selling pieces can't be reordered quickly. And it's easy to mock the practice of starting each meeting with a chime and a minute's silence.

But Fisher seems concerned with visualizing more than strategizing, obsessed with creativity rather than efficiency. "It's much more important to think about zeitgeist," she says, "the idea of following that flow, that inspiration or intuition."

She also knows that one day she'll retire, and she wants the company to have the creative capacity to continue to thrive. She regrets not being able to change the brand's name. If you've done your job well enough, she argues, everyone should be able to flourish without you. "It's like with my two kids," she says. "I want to be there but not interfere. I want them to be safe but independent. What's important for me now is to stay tuned in enough to know when I am needed and when I'm not."

Is Eileen Fisher's a particularly female leadership style? I would say so: Fisher's belief in conversations, in listening to her customers, in supporting her employees with wellness programs and continuing education are all hallmarks of successful women entrepreneurs.

But men appreciate the collaborative model too. Jim Gundell, Fisher's vice president of retail and e-commerce, who was previously president of Ralph Lauren's outlet division, says, "I never really trusted the idea that you alone were supposed to know it all. Here I feel psyched, because we know that we become more creative together. It's an incredible high."

Of all the women entrepreneurs I've encountered, Fisher stands out for the lengths she's prepared to go in support of her values. She really does put her money (and, since she never received any outside investment, it is her money) on the line. In 2005, she introduced an employee stock ownership plan through which she has given away 31 percent of the company. "When I first started," she told the employees, 80 percent of whom are women, "I carried a kind of torch to hold on to the essence of the brand. Over the years, that flame has lit candles all around the company, and now our collective light is holding and growing Eileen Fisher."

Margaret Heffernan is the author of Women on Top: How Women Entrepreneurs Are Rewriting the Rules of Business Success.

Originally published in MORE magazine, May 2008.

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