A Brief, By No Means Exhaustive, History of Genderless Fashion


Allow me to transport you back to a world of gladiatorial games, chariot racing, laurel wreaths, and togas aplenty. “Are we in Ancient Rome?”, you may ask. The answer would be no: today we are back in primary school, donning our gender-neutral gladrags for Roman Day! Like a number of elder Gen Z, I recall many school dress up days of yore. I remember wriggling with excitement as my mother pinned an old sheet around my midriff, all in the name of the Romans. At the time, I was just excited to wear something other than the very bold turquoise school jumper. What stands out to me now, however, is that this will have been my first experience of genderless clothing in history. 

When we think about history, we have a tendency to generalise all who came before us as stuffy, archaic, and conservative. In a world where gender seems to be at the forefront of conversation, particularly gender identity, it’s hard not to assume that we’re doing something completely novel. Now, I won’t deny that the Victorians bloody loved gender stereotypes and clothing was particularly binary. The point of this however, is to demonstrate how genderless clothing goes back a lot further than the last decade, and I suppose to emphasise the fact that it’s not just part of “woke snowflake culture”.

Interestingly, we can pinpoint the very beginning of gendered clothing in the Western world to 17th century France, specifically during the reign of King Louis XIV. A particularly interesting article written by Emilia Bergoglio for Seamwork.com explains that prior to “the great divide” (that is, the precedent to gendered clothing), the clothing divide was based on class, as opposed to gender. Womenswear and menswear were both made by a tailor, and centered around a tunic-style garment. By the reign of King Louis XIV, a group of seamstresses started to work separately, and thus began the start of clothing divided predominantly by gender, as opposed to class. The same article argues that this binary framework also has its roots in a colonial and racial context: Europeans saw a lack of strong gendered dress in some Asian and African communities as “cultural backwardness”. Today, we obviously know that this is just racism under a very thinly veiled guise. 

By the 19th century, we begin to see some subversions of gendered clothing. Perhaps the most notorious example of this, Fanny and Stella were two young men who “shocked Victorian England” by rather indiscreetly cavorting about London in their best frocks. More about this can be found in “Fanny and Stella: The Young Men who Shocked Victorian London” by Neil McKenna. At the same time, the Rational Dress Movement was being led by various reformers, who proposed, designed, and wore clothing considered more practical and comfortable than the fashions of the time. 

In more modern examples, we see men growing longer hair and wearing flowing clothing during the Hippie movement, David Bowie playing around with fluid presentations throughout his career, and the likes of Tilda Swinton and Ruby Rose challenging binary fashion today. Perhaps what I find most fascinating is that, just as our hemlines grow shorter as the economy booms, gender fluidity in clothing also seems to follow a social and political pattern. Post WW1, we see the rise of the Flapper Girl and androgyny: hairstyles were short and silhouettes were straight. As the economy takes a nose-dive and we gear up for WW2, we see a return to more traditional gendered clothing. That’s not to say that people weren’t out there challenging the norms: Marlene Dietrich wore suits publicly during the 1930s (Dress Like Dietrich: Marlene’s iconic 1930s suit, Shaun Anthony Darley), but just like Fanny and Stella of the 19th century, these people were causing a stir. We are seeing a similar pattern play out today. After years of (somewhat) political liberalism and self-expression through fluid clothing, we see the new concept of the “Tradwife” and the rise of conservatism and, dare I say, fascism. I would argue that the majority of 'tradwives' are romanticising a history that never was, but that’s for them to find out. 

So where are we now? I recently listened to a podcast with Dominic Sandbrook (of the Rest is History), where he explained that history repeats itself: nothing will ever be exactly the same, but across history we have seen periods of liberalism, economic growth, economic crash, fascism, war - everything. In some ways, this is reassuring: we are living in an uncertain time, but history shows us that this will end, and the pattern will likely repeat, because human beings bloody love a pattern. 

It seems to me that genderless clothing follows the same pattern, but some things will stay forever. I personally will NOT be giving up my trousers and jeans anytime soon, and Fall From Grace will continue designing clothes made for everybody.

In a world full of Tradwives, be a Marlene Dietrich. 

 

Author: Rebecca Petch

Instagram: @beccappoetry


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