THE FUTURE IS FLUID

Bold, boundary-breaking, binary-busting looks are currently taking the spotlight. But degendered fashion is more than just a fad, promoting inclusivity and tackling toxic masculinity one dress at a time, writes Kathryn Madden

- Kathryn Madden

Of all the world-chang-ing, heart-breaking and rage-inducing moments of 2020, it was a dress that sent the internet into meltdown. Pop icon Harry Styles appeared on the cover of a magazine wearing a Gucci gown – a ruffled periwinkle number paired with a cropped tuxedo jacket – and sparked headlines, hero worship and hatred alike. Many applauded his bold statement and flouting of gender norms; others declared that a cisgender, straight white man didn’t deserve to spearhead this cultural conversation; and conservative commentators wept for the patriarchy (“Bring back manly men,” tweeted far-right American pundit Candace Owens). Styles responded by draping himself in feminine frills, feather boas and strings of pearls at every photo opportunity thenceforth. “I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like,” he later told a reporter. “It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

Gender-fluid dressing – breaking the boundaries between clothing traditionally worn by women and men – is nothing new. In Ancient Greece and Rome, everybody wore togas and tunics. In the 1970s and ’80s, performers such as David Bowie, Mick Jagger, Annie Lennox and Grace Jones experimented with gender-bending style; and minority communities – Black, queer, trans and Latinx – have long dressed outside the box, laying the groundwork for today’s movement.