Dressing well (in a world that hates male fashion)
Dirt
Men’s fashion is boring. When I say this, I’m not talking about the hilariously high cut shorts of the 80’s or the flamboyant costumes of closeted pop stars, or Hawaiian shirts. These are classic, timeless garments that transcend fashion into the realm of camp, comedy through clothing, statements etc. I’m also not talking about the emergence vibrantly coloured African fabrics, cultural garb, traditional prints and patterns that carry weight and meaning, that have made their way into the consumer market .
When I say men’s fashion is boring i mean what most men in North America wear either day to day, or when they are asked to dress “formally”. I’m talking about commercial fashion, off the rack department store blazers, cargo shorts and hoodies. It is difficult, in this masc for masc world, to feel both manly and glamorous. This is not by accident. The deeply ingrained homophobic panic over colours, tight clothing, accessories etc that gave birth to the term Metrosexual (noun: a man who showers more than once a week) has stifled the imaginations of thousands of cishet men across the globe. For many people like myself, leaning on the masculine side of androgynous, or those who need costuming for performances, navigating commercial fashion can be an exhausting expiernce.
How does one interpret the world of badly fitting suit jackets, khakis, 3 kinds of button downs (plaid, fitted, business), where the fanciest garment one might see is a suit that leaves the world of charcoal and kohl for sandstone, in a way that conveys glamour and beauty? 50$ band t shirts and 60$ jeans, a men’s section that covers 1/10th of the space of the store with 1/25 of the range of selection.
With fashion as a whole moving in a more accepting and gender neutral direction, some of our brothers and others have begun breaking down the walls of what is “masculine”, with open chests, skirts, and feminine accessories which is wonderful and freeing. And certainly a handful of queer and gender-non-conforming celebrities have started to push those lines. But when we, drag kings and things, want to code ourselves in the conventional language of masculinity, but maintain our sense of glamour and prestige, where can we turn without being the 5th white king at the ball to show up in a Jodhpuri, or a twink in a harness and chaps?
Kilts and three piece suits are not enough. The addition of rhinestones, beading, embroidery and fringe along with a colour palette that leaves the neutrals can add quite a lot. An afternoon with some e6000 and a good ventilator can turn the most boring jacket into a glimmering ensemble. But even then, there’s a rich trove of historical fashion that we are ignoring. Maybe we left it behind because of its colonial connotations, maybe we have simply forgotten it. But if we are going to use the language, stations and structures of monarchy, if we are going to call ourselves kings and dukes and barons, in some sort of queer reclamation of the terms, why not dress the part as well?
The billowing pantaloons and ostentatious codpieces of Henry the VIII’s England, the soft and graceful shapes of a Greek Chiton or Chlamys (easy, breezy and beautiful). The sleek, seductive fit of a Victorian fox hunting ensemble. Wear a top hat that reaches to the ceiling. Wear a cape that extends to the entrance of the club, trimmed in hot pink fun fur. Add ostrich trim to the cuffs of your robe. Rhinestone, glitter, embroider, bead, hot glue, Press. Your. Seams.
There is no shortage of beautiful shapes and colours to inspire us in the pursuit of male glamour. I propose that if we are going to queer the terms of colonialism, we should queer it’s fashions as well.
