A Look Inside Queer Fashion

Fashion has always been used as a form of expression to communicate people’s identities to the world. Since the LGBTQ+ community has been historically marginalized in society, members would use certain fashion identifiers to indicate their sexuality to others. Using certain accessories and different styles of dress to communicate sexual identity has been an important part of queer fashion history. Let’s dive into some notable examples.

In the 1890s, Oscar Wilde wore a green carnation on his lapel to symbolize his queerness. Once it caught on, it became a trend for other queer men to wear this flower pinned to their clothing. In a time period where being gay was not socially acceptable, this powerful symbol was used to hint to others of the same identity while also identifying oneself. In the interwar years, particularly in New York City, the signal was a red tie. For a while, light blue socks were a symbol of homosexuality in England. In France, it was green cravats, a type of neck scarf. Fashion was being used to express sexuality all over the world, and it didn’t stop there.

Women started to dress more masculine throughout the 1920s. Many queer women began to wear trousers and blazers in public, which was a nod to being lesbian. In the 1970s, the anti-fashion movement was formed by lesbian feminists who attempted to dress against the male gaze. These women wore clothing items that intentionally did not fit societal norms, including bowties, suit jackets and baggier silhouettes. This powerful movement was one of the first times we have seen a fight against heteronormativity.

Queer men began using ear piercings to signal their sexuality in the 1980s. Although piercings were becoming more normalized, gay men saw a lone piercing in the right ear as a signal for queerness, allowing them to recognize one another without having to out themselves. “The illegality of homosexuality and the moral disapproval it attracted forced gay men and lesbians to live virtually invisible lives in Britain, North America and much of the world,” writes Shaun Cole, an associate professor of Fashion at the Winchester School of Art and author of “Don We Now Our Gay Apparel.” “Up until the gay liberation movement of the late 1960s, the most important criterion of public dress, for the mass of gay men and lesbians, was to be able to ‘pass’ as heterosexual. Despite this need, many were aware of the dress codes and items that could be used to signal sexual orientation.”

As queerness has become more and more accepted in today’s society, the LGBTQ+ community has several known aesthetics of what different members of the community wear. People are straying away from traditional gender roles, giving individuals more freedom to express themselves, and identifiers have become less secretive than in the past. Shortened manicures on women, dangling earrings on men and shag cuts and mullets are generally perceived as part of the queer aesthetic.

Over time, Doc Martens have become a staple in the closets of queer individuals. The clunky work boot was created for military men in the 1960s. The shoe was eventually adopted by older women and gained popularity in the ‘70s among activists, punks and the queer community. Women who were more likely to work in non-traditional, male dominated industries that required skilled labor wore Doc Martens, often paired with a flannel and jeans.

While it generally wasn’t accepted for a man to be a fashion designer, we can now see both queer men and straight men working in the fashion world. Some prominent examples include Christian Dior, a gay man who changed the high-fashion industry for the better. Despite the negative connotation surrounding straight men’s place in fashion, designers like Tommy Hilfiger, Paul Smith, Rick Owens and Oscar de la Renta are all male fashion designers breaking this outdated stigma.

The idea of “straight copying” has also become a popular phrase used in the media. Anna Pulley, the author of “The Lesbian Sex Haiku Book (with Cats!),” says that when she moved from the Midwest to San Francisco, she didn’t know who to hit on anymore because the language of unspoken dress codes had changed. For example, flannels on women in San Francisco were considered part of “the urban lumberjack uniform,” which was the common middle-class uniform. “Midwestern queer culture is extremely different from Bay Area queer culture, and one of the things that stood out to me was the difference in fashion,” she says. “Flannel was one way to signify, like, I exist.” Now when she sees someone wearing a plaid flannel shirt, she wonders whether they are gay or straight. When the straight community remixes something that has been made popular within the LGBTQ+ community, its meaning essentially becomes lost.

This also applies to the fanny pack trend. What was once considered a fashion staple by the queer world is now being flaunted by celebrities like Kendall Jenner and A$AP Rocky. Some say the popularization of Coachella revived the fanny pack, while others think it is linked to rave culture. Much like the flannel and Doc Martens, fanny packs have been part of the queer wardrobe since lesbian second-wave feminists chose to avoid dressing fashionably in favor of comfortable, practical clothing. Though the fanny pack is now mainstream, it is severely overlooked as being a historical link to the queer community.

Though rainbows have been a symbol of the LGBTQ+ rights movement since the San Francisco Gay Pride Freedom Parade in 1978, it is important to remember there is a fine line between appreciating queer culture and appropriating. Unfortunately, the queer community is far from safe from rainbow capitalism. A member of the LGBTQ+ community wearing a flag to demonstrate expression is much different than someone attempting to commercialize on queerness. But on social media, the LGBTQ+ community is reluctant to embrace the rainbow merchandise, as they feel it's supporting the companies making the clothes instead of portraying “liberation.” Target and Walmart’s Pride merch, for example, were the laughing stock of TikTok for weeks.

Giulia Beaudoin, a student and lesbian-identifying female, used to dress in rainbow suspenders and a hat emblazoned with “PRIDE.” Now, she expresses herself by dressing in the “queer aesthetic,” trading Pride merch for flared jeans and loudly printed coats. She added that most of her straight classmates opt for more mainstream clothing choices like sweatshirts and leggings, but she never goes to school “in a basic outfit.”

RuPaul, the host of the popular TV drag show series “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” has spoken out against the misappropriation of gay culture by heterosexuals. The show has led to the popularization of sayings such as “Sissy that walk!” Also, RuPaul has perfected the art of lip sync, but the new show “Lip Sync Battle” seems to poke fun at this, as it features hetero people moving their mouths to pop songs as if they were drag queens.

The LGBTQ+ community often starts trends in food, design, music and other cultural arenas, but they ultimately get seized on, watered down and commercialized. Straight people must begin to take responsibility for compromising the queer community’s opportunities, freedom and lives for centuries. These individuals have had to hide in order to survive. Now, they are the backbone of modern culture. There is nothing wrong with wearing a suit when you’re a straight woman, or watching “RuPaul’s Drag Race” if you’re not a queen yourself, or attending Pride if you’re an ally. Just be knowledgeable and considerate of LGBTQ+ history and respect why the community wears, does and says the things they do.

Cover Photo by Reese Garrity