“I just don’t believe that God would put me into hell because my knees show,” Julia Haart, 50, said.

This was on a blazing July morning, in a room off the lobby of Haart’s hyperluxury Tribeca building, a week or so before the July 14 premiere of “My Unorthodox Life,” a nine-episode unscripted Netflix series about her life. As she lounged on a marshmallowy sofa, Haart’s knees showed, elegantly, below the hem of a floral Dior minidress, above custom-made Gucci platform sandals, through beige fishnet stockings. (She also wore a square-cut diamond, of the approximate dimensions of a Starburst chew.)

Nine years ago, Haart kept everything covered — knees, collarbones, hair. A homemaker and mother of four who sold life insurance on the side, she lived in an ultra-Orthodox Jewish community just north of New York City. So miserable that she often contemplated suicide, Haart fled in late 2012. In fashion, she found self-determination.

“When I left, I wore the lowest-cut tops I could find, the shortest shorts,” she said. “Because that, to me, was freedom.”

Two years later, despite having no formal design training, she debuted a luxury shoe brand. Two years after that, the Italian lingerie and swimwear brand La Perla, then attempting a short-lived transition to ready-to-wear and churning through leadership like so much cold-pressed juice, named her its creative director. She met her second husband there, the Italian entrepreneur Silvio Scaglia (who now goes by Silvio Scaglia Haart), and in 2019, he brought her on as a co-owner and the chief executive of Elite World Group, the modeling and talent conglomerate. She has since created an in-house made-to-measure fashion brand, e1972.

She tells this story in a memoir, “Brazen,” forthcoming from Penguin Random House and also in “My Unorthodox Life,” produced by Jeff Jenkins Productions (“Bling Empire”). From Tribeca loft to Hamptons palace to French chateau, Haart (an executive producer) and her children offer a high-fashion, low-restraint look into their opulent lives and varied religiosity. The show arrives at a moment when stories that center on Jewish experience — from “The Goldbergs” and “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” to “Shtisel” and “Unorthodox” — populate television with a new variety and complexity, centering Jewish characters and exploring their lives and beliefs.

From her perch on the sofa, Haart — vibrant, outspoken, wicked — discussed her whirlwind career, her relationship to Judaism and her anxieties about having bared (almost) all for the camera. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

What made you finally leave your community?

My daughter Miriam. She just wouldn’t conform. They were doing to her what they had done to me — trying to push her down and mold her into that flat person that they could disappear. I couldn’t let that happen. I literally packed my [expletive] and walked out the door with her.

What was that transition like?

I’d had no radio, no television, no newspapers, no magazines. I’d never been to a bar. I’d never been on a date. I’d never slept in a room on my own. I felt like I was a Martian stepping on earth.

How does a woman who has just fled a fundamentalist community debut a luxury shoe brand?

Before I even left, I had started the concept of the shoe brand. I taught myself to sew when I was 16. I’d been making my own clothes, even though in my community fashion is a giant no-no. The only point of clothing is to hide you. And if you love clothing and color, that means you’re too focused on the physical, you’re not thinking about your soul. But I loved color. And I had always worn high heels. So it made so much sense.

How did you fund it?

I found investors in the craziest places. I found one investor at a restaurant. Second investor on an airplane. Third investor in an eye doctor’s office. Miracles. Literal miracles. I once said to them, what made you invest in me? One of them said, “Julia, you just looked like you wouldn’t fail, and we just trusted that.”

Why did La Perla bring you on board?

This guy in Hong Kong, he was on the board of La Perla; the women in his office had bought my shoes, and all they talked about was how comfortable they were. So he contacted La Perla, which had just gone through four creative directors. I had comfort and luxury. That’s what it was.

That was your goal for La Perla? Comfort and luxury?

Women shouldn’t have to choose between beauty and comfort. We’re still suffering to make some dude look at us? It’s outrageous. My goal became: It has to feel like pajamas, even if it looks like glitz and glamour. We changed the way that stretch was incorporated into materials. We made the most whisper-light chiffons with stretch. We made the first ever stretch Leavers lace so that when you wore a thong, it didn’t slide up your crotch.

You met your husband at La Perla?

He was the C.E.O. So he was there a lot. The first year of our interaction was me yelling at him. I was horrible to him. But I had a lot of respect for him. As sheltered as my life had been, his life had been the diametric opposite. He’d been everywhere. He’d seen everything. And when I yelled at him, he took it like a man. That made me happy.

Before you met him, had you been dating?

Oh yes. Oh, indeed. Freedom for me meant freedom in every direction. Sexual pleasure, that’s a big deal. I’d never been on a date. I’d never been kissed by someone I had chosen. When I left, I basically went crazy. I think the first guy I was with was a Cirque du Soleil guy.

What convinced you to move over to Elite?

Silvio had been pressuring me to take over Elite for like nine months. I didn’t want to do it. Because in my mind, the modeling industry was young women being paraded in front of men getting told, you’re ugly, you’re fat. I wanted nothing to do with it. But he told me, “Look, research the industry, maybe you can change it.”

That’s when I realized that there is this massive shift happening in the power dynamic. Before, as talent, you had zero control of your own destiny. Now it’s creative directors, casting agents, photographers running after the talent. Because the talent has the audience. That means we can put the power in the hands of the women. [Elite also represents male and nonbinary talent.]

Why did you decide to make a reality show?

Until I became creative director of La Perla, I didn’t tell a single soul anything about my past. Zero. Like, if guys would ask about my past, I would literally make [expletive] up. I didn’t want people to know my story. I didn’t want to be a victim. But after my first collection, I thought, I’ve accomplished a little something. I had come to a place of personal comfort. And I hoped that someone would watch this and say, OK, if this crazy bitch did it, I can do it.

Did you and your family have any anxiety about letting cameras into your lives?

We were all petrified out of our minds. I’m scared now. Because I’ve bared my soul to the whole planet. But working with Jeff Jenkins has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. We collaborated on everything. He trusted me, and he realized that I’m not someone you can manipulate. Nothing went in there without my approval. Zero.

Is there any difference between who you are on camera and off?

No. When I left there was no going back to disappearing, to not being me. People may hate me. They may like me. But I’m going to be me all the time.

Is there any part of your life that the cameras don’t capture?

The only thing I will not do is nudity. I decide what I like to cover and what I like to uncover, and I just don’t want that floating around the world for my grandchildren one day.

Only recently has television offered so many shows centered on Jewish characters, particularly characters wrestling with their relationship to orthodoxy. Did you think about what offering your version of Judaism would mean?

My issues and the way that I was treated have nothing to do with Judaism. Judaism is about values and community and lovingkindness and beautiful things. I feel very proud to be a Jew.

I believe in God. How could I not? This is a way to show people that there are all sorts of Jews.