Lesbian Identity: Fashion Through The Decades
Outward expression for lesbians has been represented through their choice of clothing for as long as lesbian communities existed, separate from mainstream culture. But why is that? To strengthen our group identity? To feel more comfortable and confident in our sexuality? To rebel against heteronormative ideals?
From the flannel and beanie combo in the mid 2000’s, to the now baggy jeans and ‘wife pleaser’ vest top. Even before lesbian subcultures existed, individual lesbians sought out to express themselves in radical new ways. The fashion choices of these WLW not only show what they identify as (butch, femme, masc etc), but the fashion choices also allow other lesbians to know when they are in the presence of their own kind.
I’m going to be delving back into time, right up into contemporary society, to pick apart the different types of lesbian fashion, and what our aesthetics say about what it means to be a lesbian.
The ‘Gentleman Jacks’ of the 1700s-1800s
The first and most famous well known lesbian couple was born in 1739 and 1755. Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby were known as the “Ladies of Llangollen”.
They lived together for decades in a picturesque cottage in the Welsh countryside. These ladies were a spectacle in their community for their unconventional lifestyle wearing men’s clothing – often dressing alike.
Because their relationship seemed wholesome to the public (gals being pals), they didn’t face too much criticism. If anything, they became quite a minor cultural symbol.
The Ladies of Llangollen are an odd case when considering lesbian aesthetics. Their image was obviously a complete denial of heteronormative society and yet it was celebrated and commodified as early as the 18th century.
These ladies seemed to have become a sensation and tourist attraction due to their obvious queerness. Their house is still a museum today, and they were very likely more than just friends. Their style set the scene for other lesbians of the time to work with – dressing in men’s clothing to appeal to other lesbian women of the time.
Someone else who thought their ‘friendship’ was far from platonic was Anne Lister, better known as “Gentleman Jack” or “Jack the Lass”.
A woman born in 1791 whose many lesbian love affairs we know about in great detail, thanks to the 4 million words from journals she wrote in her lifetime.
Anne Lister was…well, we all know the type of lesbian today. She certainly would’ve sagged her pants and wore a snapback.
In the 1800s however, Anne Lister was known for wearing all black men’s clothing in styles that would have been popular at the time. She did wear some pieces of women’s clothing, although she was not at all fond of it. Her preferences in clothing were just one expression of Lister’s lifelong disdain for all things feminine.
She wrote regarding one of her female partners:
“This is womanizing me too much…she lets me see too much that she considers me too much as a woman,”
Myth of the Modern Homosexual: Queer History and the Search for Cultural Unity Rictor Norton
Some people are quick to characterise Anne Lister as a trans man, and maybe that’s the case. But, personally, I think she envied the male social role more than the male body. That was so significant: the lesbian who wore men’s clothes and refused to be controlled by a husband, who pursued other men’s wives such as Anne Lister was so scandalous. She was a threat to patriarchal power and to the very definition of what it meant to be a man or woman.
Development of Lesbian Fashion – the 1900s-30s
In 1901 a sexologist named Havelock Ellis proposed that the cause of same-sex attraction was something called ‘sexual inversion.’ The theory was problematic, but it made the case that homosexuality was inherent and unchangeable in certain people, rather than a morally corrupt choice; so it was actually embraced by some queer people at the time.
Among such people was Radclyffe Hall, who identified as a sexual invert, and wrote a novel about a character much like herself. This novel became the most popular lesbian novel until the 1970s.
“And she would think I’m a bore. Why is it? Then, but if I were ‘he’ I wouldn’t be a bore. I could just be myself. I’d feel perfectly natural.”
The Well of Loneliness Radclyffe Hall – 1928
I mention sexual inversion because this way of understanding homosexuality claimed that a normal gender expression was vital for someone to have exclusively same-sex attraction. To be a “real lesbian”, you had to look like one.
The fashion choices of the most flamboyant lesbians were what made their identity something real and threatening to society. Women who sought to claim the social role of a man, like Anne Lister, were what society saw as lesbians.
In the 1920s-30s, a vibrant lesbian culture was beginning in Paris. This is centred around a woman named Natalie Barney. Barney was considered extremely feminine, especially against other very masculine lesbian counterparts of the time.
Lesbians who completely defined the sexual invert model like Natalie Barney and many of her partners were becoming visible. Paris lesbians experimented with fashion in unique ways, but weren’t necessarily bound to either the mainstream feminine look or a hyper-masculine look.
In the 1910s, 20s and 30s fashion was very slowly becoming more androgynous. Women’s styles modelled after men’s began to appear. Women were allowed to wear pants and cut their hair short, and people didn’t automatically assume “lesbian” over a little cross-dressing. Which is probably why Parisian lesbians were able to express themselves in such new, interesting ways.
Radclyffe Hall didn’t like them and their more liberated ideas about queer identity – but she sounds like a bit of a stick in the mud, to be honest. However, Hall’s long-term partner Una Troubridge was one such person who was very fluid in the way she expressed gender and sexuality through fashion.
In the 1920s she often wore tailored suits as a way of signalling sexuality to other women, such as in this famous portrait painted by Romaine Brooks in 1924:
Troubridge began to look more feminine during her relationship with Hall, and when Hall passed, she had all of her partner’s masculine clothing tailored to fit her.
Butch & Femme Subcultures – 1940s-50s
Next came an era in lesbian history that you probably already have some thoughts on considering how discussed it is, even today. That is right, the 1940s introduced the roles of Butch and femme lesbians.
Gay bars were common in big cities and the preferred way for lesbians to meet each other. Working-class lesbian bar culture included the division of every woman in the category of either butch or femme. Femme women dressed in what otherwise expressed themselves as women were expected to at the time, and butch women dressed like men. Which is why these women have been so extensively criticised by lesbian feminists for supposedly imitating heterosexual relationships.
Of course, this way of organising the lesbian community was constructed rather than natural. It was a trend in the way that lesbians expressed themselves, some women even switched freely between the two roles such as Joan Nestle who wrote extensively on her experience with the ButchFemme subculture.
Labelling in this way allowed lesbians to format understood community, and in reality, those labels still allowed for a wide spectrum of expression from both butch and femme women.
The most important function that the style of butch and femme lesbians served was to make lesbians visible to the heterosexual public. For first time, same-sex couples and lesbian sexuality were suddenly undeniable. No longer could it be claimed that two women who lived together were merely close friends would eventually find good husbands.
Being out in the 1940s and 50s meant sacrificing everything. Looking like a lesbian and being visible to the world as something outside of the norm was incredibly radical. Which is probably why butch and femme style was a staple of working-class lesbian culture, while middle and upper-class women usually felt the need to hide their sexuality to maintain their social status.
Visibility was the very dangerous first step in asserting the existence of lesbians and eventually paving the way to eventually fight for equal rights, and for that, we have supposedly ‘regressive’ ButchFemme couples of the 1950s to thank.
The Rise of Androgyny & Fashion Trends – 1960s-80s
The lesbian feminist of the 1970s strived for an androgynous style. Characterised by loose, comfortable clothing, no makeup and often a short haircut. The lesbian style was more often characterised by a lack of style for its unfeminine and simple look. However, it was a deliberate political statement: the rejection of the oppressive heteronormative beauty standards and the rejection of the male/female binary as a whole.
These women refused to fit into a society that they disagreed with. Lesbian feminists identified themselves as women-identified women, which, to summarise the manifesto of the term, basically means their identity as women were in no way defined by men, and they expressed that strongly with the way that they chose to look.
However, like old trends in lesbian fashion, it didn’t last.
In 1990, an article was written on lesbian style, which reported: “Mainstream fashion rather than lesbianism exerts the strongest influence over their style. The feminist hostility towards fashion characteristic of the 1960s and 70s is still alive in the 1980s, but no longer endures universal support.”
The progress towards a less distinguishable lesbian look continued. In 1966 Lisa Pottie wrote an article which expressed her wariness on femme identity becoming a norm in the lesbian community for the first time.
“A hierarchy of style is placed within lesbian communities. Communities that were once split in the 1970s ironically between lesbian feminists and the butch/femme working-class bar culture. Now, the identification of lesbian feminists with an older passe generation has led to a dismissal too of lesbian feminists critiquing femininity as ‘passe’, no longer stylish. Ironically, the dismissal has led to the recuperation of butch/femme roles; but on the level of chosen sexual style, rather than working-class identity. Stripped of its historical context, the interest first in butch and now in femme, feeds into a mainstream appropriation of lesbians as ‘fun’ and ‘naughty’ – without the political significance attached.”
Hierarchies of Otherness: The Politics of Lesbian Styles in the 1990s, or, What to Wear? – Lisa Pottie, 1966
Other queer theorists of the time argued that femme identity was political because it proved that femininity did not necessarily equal heterosexuality – and therefore subverted heteronormative gender roles.
As a lesbian, I wear makeup most days and have long hair. My input on the issue is: why should I care if my identity is inherently political – and why are you all trying to make it seem like I should feel bad if it’s not?
So, people have a lot to say about what lesbian gender expression means about our identity, and it’s a lot to get your head around – but it is important to think about.
Becoming the Norm – Contemporary Lesbian Fashion
What concerned Lisa Pottie about lesbians becoming more feminine was that it created the opportunity to misrepresent them as straight women who are merely confused and experimenting. If lesbian identity was less visible, it would be taken less seriously.
As lesbians became more accepted into mainstream culture, they also reflected that mainstream culture more. This was the beginning of the lesbian that people were comfortable with, who didn’t necessarily challenge their worldview too much. We can see this exemplified in popular media portrayals of lesbians, one of the most infamous examples being the TV series ‘The L Word’, with protagonists that don’t necessarily scream ‘queer’ (I would still definitely recommend this show to all lesbians.)
The L Word was written by lesbians, for lesbians. In a 2004 article from the New York Times which highlighted the influence of lesbian fashion designers on the industry, the creator of The L Word Ilene Chaiken was quoted saying:
“What makes their work lesbian fashion? It’s probably that they are celebrating that play with gender. That provocative style that pulls from rock and roll boy icons from the past, the street and the high-end couture-type glamour. But that starts with lesbian sensibility.”
And you can definitely see that sort of idea of lesbian fashion in the way the characters on The L Word express themselves, as well as these Y2K looks coming back in very recently.
I spoke to Emily Peiser, a well-known lesbian TikToker from London, as well as Erris Burke who runs ‘G.irl Events’, a lesbian event that occurs monthly for WLW in London. I asked them about their own personal style, as well as what they perceive lesbian fashion and identity to be.
“I was so feminine when I was younger,” Emily told me “it didn’t match my personality. It’s definitely not a political thing, you know, dressing more masculine for me. It suits me, and I attract women who I’m attracted to now.”
Emily mentioned that when she presented as more feminine in her early years of being queer, she didn’t feel as comfortable. I’ve noticed this with a lot of masculine-presenting women, like their personality, or ‘energy’, doesn’t match feminine clothing.
“I also find that I dress in men’s clothing way better than men do.” She laughed “It’s a power thing too. I don’t want to be seen as attractive by straight men, I almost want to threaten them. I’m inspired by the aesthetic of people like Hugh Grant from most of the films he’s in. He’s always sharp and so gentlemanly. I want to be that – but within a woman.”
Emily then went on to tell me that she still loves being a woman and embraces parts of her femininity and that the way she dresses is just her expression of herself. “Even with other masc lesbians, I still try to stand out. I don’t want to dress like every other lesbian, you know, with the Nike shorts and high buns with the undercuts. Although I respect it, I think my style adds charm to me. I’m comfortable in my skin now.”
It is apparent that there’s no longer much of a box that lesbians fit into style-wise. Although there are certain stereotypes and ‘sub-categories’ of the ways that lesbians dress, because of the development of fashion through the decades for lesbians it seems to be a lot more free-reign, as Erris Burke agrees.
“There’s less of a butch and femme stereotype now, everyone at our events is so different.” Erris Burke, co-founder of G.irl Events told me. “There are so many women that could pass as straight, but they’re the gayest of the lot.”
Erris then went on to tell me that there’s still a distinct look and aesthetic that almost all lesbians have, that you can tell they’re queer straight away.
“I guess in the 1900s it was less distinct, you’d have to wear a suit or act like a bloke all the time to be taken seriously as a lesbian. Now, you can be as femme as anything, like me, and people can still tell I’m queer. I love seeing all the different styles and fits at every event.”
Going to this lesbian event myself, you can definitely see a real mixture of butch, femme and androgynous looks all around. In contemporary society with lesbian fashion, it is definitely more influenced within mainstream culture – but just with that added bit of spice.
There still is, though, definitely that matchmaking ideal of a masc and a femme together. With TikTok videos going viral surrounding different lesbians types’, as described in this TikTok by Erris naming “tomboy femmes” – which is completely new to the roles of butch/femme subcultures.
This shows that in contemporary society, there are new moulds of identity within the lesbian community, with there being a mixture of what is considered ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ – showing that the lines between mainstream culture and subculture have been blurred regarding lesbian fashion trends.
Lesbians are everywhere now. And our fashion sense continues to be something very real. So, what does all this tell us? Well, trends change. There’s nothing inherently lesbian about flannels, backwards hats, or baggy overalls or suits. Our subculture is just as subject to change as any other. However, there does seem to be a bit of a constant in lesbian style.
What is apparent even more in the formation of subcultures which produced various specific trends, is the centrality of the sort of strength in masculinity to identify lesbian styles. From Anne Lister to Ruby Rose, there is something rebellious and cool about lesbians, isn’t there?
Maybe it’s that we’re free from the desire to make ourselves attractive to men? Maybe there’s just a lesbian gene that just makes us dress cool.
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