IS AMBIGUITY STILL A SHOCKINGATTRIBUTE?
The solid image of the man as a self-possessed individual completely devoid of any frivolous trait has long been shattered. The demolition started a long while ago, actually: on the cusp of the hedonistic Seventies that led to the conspicuous consumption of the Eighties, when the newfound, quickly gained and widely spread wealth meant quite a hell of a lot of showing off, be it of a new body or a new way to confront the world using
le look as one’s visiting card.
In that very moment men got rid of all the rigidities of their fathers and ancestors, and accepted a liberating amount of vanity in order to be au courant. It went further and further, until the full- blown ego-tripping, self-referential frivolity of the metrosexual – a man so in love with himself as to embrace not only extensive training and beauty treatments, but also liberal amounts of cosmetics on a daily basis, plus body-hugging, muscle-revealing clothing and an unbiased, freed attitude – completely reset the codes. Today machos sport plucked eyebrows and waxed chests with immense masculine pride, not an ounce of vanity shame in sight. Yet, the sight of men openly and giddily acting fey and feminine – or what is commonly considered so, given that such traits vary from one culture to another and from one historical moment to another – either as gay or heterosexuals, still creates a certain discomfort in onlookers. No matter how far we have gone, there are still things that look suspiciously drag-like to the pineal eye of our digitally-conformist, archly judgmental society.
Ambiguity has lost none of its powers to this day, as pictures of David Bowie or the New York Dolls in their heyday prove, or shots from the Gucci and Maison Margiela shows testify. A man in a dress or kinky gear, wearing make-up, enjoying abandon is discombobulating, and all the better for it. What’s called genderless fashion is reassuring because it has flattened gender divides on the sporty horizon of lazy, ugly-is-beautiful streetwear. Ambiguity, on the contrary, is a selfish ’n’ complacent dress-up game for truly fr ivolous individuals who are not afraid to beg, steal and borrow lace or feathers from gals’ closets, or vice versa. Ambiguity is powerful because it endlessly demonstrates gender connotations are not matter-of-factly attached to items of clothing, but are a purely cultural construct. Such a taboo is still hard to break, but that’s not too bad, all things considered.
Playing with danger keeps giving an electric soupçon to the daily act of dressing up.