Gender expression through clothing has always seemed to be a one-sided narrative. That is what the ‘Defining Masculinities’ exhibition at the Victoria and Albert museum seeks to convey from the moment your eyes feast on the wealth of colour and voluminous fabrics on display which are true to the quintessential tastes of Gucci, its sponsor.
Since the male form was first documented by ancient creatives through sculpture and other art forms, masculine fashion has been a tool to enforce conformity or allow expression, however, this has only begun to be appreciated in the public fashion-sphere very recently; as society has shifted to become predicated on reaching beyond the binaries upon which it is constructed, masculine fashion has been afforded the space to explore its own rich evolution.
A key component of the attempt to break stereotypes through masculine clothing resides in the realms of queer fashion, and this is prevalent throughout the exhibition. It is important to state that LBGTQ+ expression has historically been conflated with effeminate men, or masculine women, and at the V&A it was made clear that the purpose of queer male fashion strives to break down these harmful assumptions by instead showing how the concept of ‘masculinity’ is simply something which should be accessible to all. Whether this was achieved through a photograph depicting Patti Smith who, throughout her life, was unapologetically androgynous in her fashion choices, or the intricately constructed binders made by gc2b, it provoked an epiphany for my father who then exclaimed: “this explains what I am wearing and why I am wearing it!” Along with many others who found themselves realising that this is a story which belongs to the collective, rather than individual revolutionaries, he noticed that regardless of whether one may choose to rebel against or conform to gender expectations, socio-historical movements have always played into men’s sub-conscious fashion choices, such as (but not exclusively) when queer people strayed from the temporal trends and belief systems in within their communities.
The theme of fluidity stretched beyond the reaches on gender, however, to explore the male form and the expectations for what it should look like. Prominent classical works were scattered throughout the cavernous hall: when faced with pale, muscular statues of the Greek God Hermes and the Emperor Augustus’s lover Antinous, it was clear how dynamically expectations can change, as a lean body was the norm... 2000 years ago. This glorification of youth and virility in comparison to the muscular, overpowering mold demanded of men now in advertisements similar to the Calvin Klein underwear adverts (which were hung directly opposite the classical statues), emphasizes not only the evolution of the male form in ‘mass media’ over centuries, but the mutuable, unrealistic nature of these criteria.
“Gender is a performance.” Written on a plaque next to one of the displays, this sentiment was echoed by fashion in the second hall which time-travelled hundreds of years into the past to prove that, historically, flamboyant dressing symbolised wealth and status. Breeches, collars and ruffs could be as voluminous as womenswear, and it was only during the conservative, pious Victorian era – prizing industrial black suits above all else – that men’s fashion faced significant repression. For example, 18th century men had no qualms about wearing pink. Whether that was to do with the fact that the colonization of India, where pink remains a unisex colour, meant an abundance of red and pink dyes became more widely available, or that it simply had not been associated with gender yet, pink has come to represent something very different in men’s fashion now: it champions the effort to defy expectations, especially the pale pink colours utilized by designers Harris Reed and Thom Browne (who simulateously deconstructed elitist Ivy League sports wear through his design shown in the photo above).
Suddenly, it went dark as a row of black suits stood stiff and starched behind the glass. Men in black – this was the theme of the 19th century: a period of industrialisation, enlightenment and innovation, but not for men’s fashion. Conservative clothing became increasingly popular as men began to dress for the field of commerce and trade, and black fabric settled over Britain like a funeral shroud as fashion began to reflect the dust and smog of the new industrial towns and cities. This change to more formal dress, however, is not to be solely blamed on manufacturing and development: a crossover between military and civilian clothing in the 18th century due to the fact that, temporally, tailors made both kinds of clothing meant that they began to draw inspiration from this duality. Therefore, the change of the Royal Navy to dark blue regalia in 1748 had a huge impact in the world of fashion, one which was consecrated in men’s fashion during the Nepoleonic wars: a story told by the looming mannequin dressed in Admiral Horatio Nelson’s military regalia.
Above all else, the element that appeared to be the most releatable, or relevant, to the young viewership that one would expect to be attracted to such an exhibition, was the impact of representation on the red carpet. On display was the infamous blue Gucci dress, hand-made by Alessandro Michele, and worn by Harry Styles on the cover of American Vogue. Styles’ bold entrance as the first solo male cover star of the hallowed magazine was an example of how fashion, as much as any other creative or academic media, can spark debate amongst progressive and conservative critics alike on the most contreversial of topics – in this case, the gender binary in fashion – as well as provide the representation so many people felt has been lacking for far too long. The exhibition, hosted by the V&A museum, is open for another 9 days until November 6th (2022), and is a crucial social commentary giving represenation to a history previously untold in full.
