By Aja Cohen
If you had told my younger self—raised in a traditional Italian Catholic home surrounded by pasta, strong family ties, and church on Sundays—that one day I'd be keeping Shabbat, living in Teaneck, NJ, and running a modest activewear brand, I wouldn't have believed you.
I was raised in a loving Italian Catholic family where food, family, and tradition were everything. In many ways, it wasn't so different from Jewish life—I just didn't know it yet.
But G-d’s plans are bigger than our imagination.
My first real introduction to Jewish life came through a boyfriend I was dating in my early twenties. He was Israeli, from Great Neck, Long Island, and very upfront that marriage wasn't an option for us. Still, when he invited me to join him for Shabbat dinner, I said yes.
I didn't know it at the time, but that evening would plant the seed for everything that came next.
There was something deeply familiar in the experience—the way everyone gathered around the table, the importance of family, the joy in sharing a meal. It reminded me of my Italian upbringing, just with blessings and candles instead of rosaries.
I wanted to understand more.
I remember walking into a bookstore and picking up my first book on Judaism. I didn't know where this journey would lead, but I knew I wanted to follow it.
On Rosh Hashanah, I asked to attend services. We ended up at a Sephardic Orthodox synagogue. I didn't understand everything being said, but something clicked inside me. For the first time, I felt spiritually seen.
While studying fashion at Pratt, I joined a “Kabbalah & Sushi” night hosted by the Chabad rabbi on campus, Rabbi Simcha Weinstein. One class turned into many, and I began to learn more about Judaism from Rabbi Ari Raskin.
Not long after, I met my husband, Evan, at a Yom Kippur service in Brooklyn. From the outset, our connection was rooted in wanting to grow—together. We both wanted to build a home based on Jewish law and Torah observance and I chose to undergo an Orthodox conversion. It was a commitment, but one I embraced with my whole heart.
We married, started our family in Park Slope, and eventually moved to Teaneck. What I once jokingly called “the Jewish ghetto” became our spiritual home. It's where we've built our life, raised our kids, and found our people.
In the midst of all this, I was working in corporate fashion, designing fast-paced collections for big athletic brands. But as my lifestyle changed, my values did too. I started asking myself: What am I creating and who am I creating it for?
During the pandemic, I stepped back—and that's when inspiration struck. Living in Teaneck, I saw women walking, running, and pushing strollers—all while dressed in skirts, long sleeves, and leggings. Modesty wasn't holding anyone back. But the options? They weren't great. I knew I could bring my design background, my passion for movement, and my love of tzniut together to create something better.
So, I decided to start my own company (Transcendent Active). Today, thank G-d, we have a full line of clothing that helps women move with confidence and dignity.
I started this for the women around me—women embracing modesty in all stages of life. But in the process, I found my own voice: To me, modesty isn't about hiding. It's about showing up fully—with intention, pride, and purpose.
Reprinted from the current website of Chabad.Org
