The U.S. has seen gender equality thrown for a major loop this past year, between the disgusting remarks Donald Trump has made about women, the many cases of sexual harassment coming to light, and transgender people's rights being threatened every day. Such stories magnify the fundamentally unequal power dynamic between men and women, and I, alongside most of the American population, have come to realize the enduring negative effect that gender determination, one of humanity's most basic psychological dividers, has had on sociopolitical affairs and everyday behaviors.
The gender binary is so deeply ingrained in all cultures and virtually all of human history that it is rarely questioned—the extreme division between masculine and feminine is still sufficiently prevalent in modern society, even as gender and sexual identities are becoming more fluid. More figures have stepped up to try subverting toxic masculinity (Justin Baldoni's new series is a noteworthy example), which is undeniably a first step towards progress. But the underlying problem I still feel with such discourse is that a strict definition is maintained as the goal: "how can I be a better man?" I believe that designations like "man" and "woman" inherently instills the attitude of being one versus the other. And, again, while public acceptance of individuals living outside of that perspective is wider, current events demonstrate that the mere existence of those labels still greatly defines human mindsets, specifically with conservative, patriarchal values in mind.
In considering the explanations behind these ideas, I've learned how huge a role clothing plays in gender politics. In our prevailing heteronormative world, fashion is an instant indicator of a person's gender and how to judge someone accordingly: men wear clothes that represent their strength and privilege, and women don looks that represent their weakness and vulnerability. Of course, in no way can the dichotomy be boiled down that crudely, nor be true: women today have taken major strides in making their voices heard and achieving influence equal to men's. But I maintain that people's general insistence on classifying things as masculine versus feminine—and the fashion industry seemingly being the greatest culprit of this—preserves the reductive binary and gender inequality as fundamental, detrimental aspects of society, which is why we are still facing terrible issues, like homophobia and sexual assault, to this day.
I believe that changes to menswear may be instrumental in dismantling this construct of power that men hold. A total transformation cannot and should not happen instantaneously: men wearing dresses, for example, is usually automatically seen as too feminine, so I think smaller shifts need to happen presently that can gradually modify our narrow understanding of male appearance. Just as women wear menswear-inspired clothes, contemporary menswear could introduce into its vocabulary more womenswear-inspired elements—such as one-piece garments, ornamental elements like ruffles and fringe, or fabrics like voile and lace—to progressively chip away at the misguided notion that fashions, and humans by extension, are naturally categorized by masculine and feminine. The rejection of these associations is becoming a more popular thought, but the way garments are made and sold still adhere to a more traditional philosophy.
These concepts about gendered codes are by no means new, but they have inspired me to examine the connection between my masculinely-defined wardrobe and my increasingly flexible identity and take on the craft of sewing to not just express myself through personal style but also promote freer, remodeled impressions of masculinity versus femininity. Of course, my amateur pieces may certainly not inspire much revolution on a large, public scale—but if I can inspire even one person who sees my clothes to reconsider the determination, function, and meaning of the items they wear, I'd like to think I'm doing my part to push the world in an improved, positive direction.