If clothes make the person, what do our wardrobes past and present reveal about who we were and are? This is the first in a monthly ‘Sliding Drawers’ series, asking Vancouverites to dive in to the evolution of their personal style. Want to nominate your style journey or the evolution of someone you know? Email a brief description to [email protected] with “style” in the subject line.
Vee Pho
25, PR for Eco Fashion Week
“I’m the youngest of three children and my mom loved dressing my sister and me in the same clothes when we were kids, especially for photos. It was always ‘little girl’ dresses. They were beautiful, but not what I wanted – I was a tomboy growing up.
“It wasn’t till my teens that I really started to have control over my clothes because I finally saved up enough allowance and started babysitting. All the other girls at school were wearing TNA, Aritzia and Lululemon and though a part of me wanted to dress like them to fit in, my parents wouldn’t allow it. In high school, I fell in love with ’80s Madonna – heels and leggings, and I would borrow my dad’s dress shirts, then belt them at the waist. That led to a love for thrifting and vintage shopping. I got into jewelry, especially rings, and now I always stack more than 20 in one go.
“I’ve always wanted to work in the fashion industry, but it lacked diversity and well, ethics. I began volunteering for Eco Fashion Week and realized that there are people making a difference and I wouldn’t have to buy into all the conventional fashion industry nonsense. I am anti-mass consumption, and sustainability and ethics play a large part in my clothing choices. That, in turn, has informed my style. I’m good at taking basic pieces and making them look like something else, so I can wear the same pieces on different occasions and make them look totally different.
“For me, clothing is a way to explore my own identity while disengaging gender norms. I often work predominantly in gay spaces and am respected as a queer woman in the space. I believe the fluidity of my gender identity, specifically in style, used to confuse people – long hair, adornment and makeup don’t fit with tuxedo jackets or basketball jerseys. I used to think my changing aesthetic preferences were just phases and that at some point I would need to start dressing in a consistent style. Now, I realize every ‘look’ I have is just as much a part of me, and contrary to what I was taught, long hair doesn’t equate to femininity and tuxedos aren’t just for boys.
“There’s an element of expectation for women that we should dress to please others, but now, I’m only concerned in pleasing myself with my looks. Body issues and societal pressure to look a certain way have been a source of discomfort for me until quite recently. Over the past couple of years my body has become curvier, which I hated, until I realized curves in our figure don’t govern our gender.
“When I’m getting ready for a night out I might try on different things and make my friends listen to every look idea I have, but I often end up in the original look because I’ve stopped seeking other people’s aesthetic validation. The only things I think about when I get dressed are 1. Do I feel good? And 2. What’s this look’s best photo angle?”
Left: Pho’s mom dressed her in exquisite dresses that didn’t fit her tomboy style. Contributed photo
Right: “My look here is almost fully vintage, mixing early ’90s Chicago Bulls, with late ’70s chiffon. Though I've been known for wearing all black, this layering of bold prints, patterns and textures is my current favourite.” Dan Toulgoet photo
Cicely-Belle Blain
23, youth worker and Black Lives Matter Vancouver co-organizer
“When I was a kid, my mum let me wear what I wanted. I hated pink and dresses, but mum allowed me to stray from the norms of the gender binary. My only real priority was comfort (I was a bit of a tomboy) and I had no concept of style or fashion, even though my mum had trained to be a fashion designer. I was raised in the UK, so I wore school uniform and there wasn’t much opportunity for autonomy from day to day.
“I started secondary school at 11 or 12 and that’s when began to be interested in what to wear. I remember every non-uniform day I would feel this huge pressure to wear something cool, and I was very self-conscious about my weight. I started to judge myself against other girls. In fact, I enjoyed wearing school uniform because you couldn’t be judged on your style or if you could afford certain things.
“Even so, I wasn’t a conformist. I would still try to rebel by customizing my uniform. For a while I wore blue Converse every day and told the teachers I had a sprained ankle. Not conforming, just being myself, is a piece of my personality and still a value I hold.
“When I first started to spend time in queer communities, I was very stressed because I felt I didn’t look like a queer woman should. I had moved over to Canada to go to UBC and the queer people I was mixing with were white, slim and wealthier than me, and could pull off plaid and button-downs while, by this point, my style was more femme and girlie. Now I understand as a fat, black femme that I shouldn’t force myself into androgynous or masculine looks to fit into the queer community. They don’t work for my body and that is okay. I’m fortunate to have found communities that are body-positive and affirming of different identities, so I never second guess myself because I know that the way I look is about me feeling good, not impressing others.
“I consider myself non-binary. This is partly a political stance – a rejection of how the gender binary is so restrictive. In my opinion, the only thing it does is oppress women and put them in boxes. My definition of myself as non-binary is also a feeling that I’ve had all through my life. From an outside perspective I present as a stereotypical woman. When I first entered queer communities, non-binary people usually presented more as masculine or androgynous but my perception of that is changing; non-binary femmes are becoming more visible.
“Altering my appearance is a part of my style. I change my hair a lot – when I was younger I would straighten it but now I’m more confident as a black person I’ll wear my natural hair, afro-style, cornrows or braids. I used to have an issue where I felt like I couldn’t wear casual clothes – I had to dress up to overcompensate for not feeling pretty or skinny enough. Now I’m comfortable wearing whatever, but I still like to get dressed up. I love makeup, bright colours and patterned and pink clothes. These days, I feel free and not restrained by anything – every day is a chance to experiment.”
Left: Blain felt that school uniforms removed the pressure for them to dress a certain way. Contributed photo
Right: “This is my favourite bralette/crop top, a pink bomber jacket, jeans and gold Rihanna pumas. I’m also wearing a pink choker and a head wrap with a traditional West African print. I love this outfit because it feels effortlessly sexy and cool. It’s taken me over 20 years to like my body and be comfortably with showing my belly and cleavage and wearing tight pants that show my hips. But now I'm fearless and confident and feel great in outfits like this.” Dan Toulgoet photo
Matty Lambert
31, advertising and marketing representative, Glacier Media
“I don’t know if my mom wanted twins but as soon as my brother arrived, two-and-a-half years after me, she started dressing us the same – not every day, but pretty regularly. My brother was the first to rebel and he adopted a stereotypical ‘boy’ style: jeans, T-shirts and sneakers. I went the opposite way. I carried a briefcase! I remember getting these blue-and-white-striped kind of pantaloons, after wearing a similar outfit to my uncle’s wedding – completely my own choice. My clothes were impeccable, my sneakers cleaned with a toothbrush. In fact, I remember feeling hard done by because my brother was always getting new sneakers because he trashed his.
“Elementary school was hard for me. I was a loner with few friends and was teased a lot. On day one of high school I suddenly had loads of friends. I wanted to fit in so I became a typical ‘bro’: sporty gear and Randy River jeans. I had a girlfriend through high school and my guy friends were sporty, into video games and bikes. My family was super religious, too. I absolutely could not fathom the possibility of being gay. I look back and think, ‘Who was that kid?’
“Things changed when I moved to Lake Louise when I was 21. I met new people from all over, including three gay men who were all so completely different in the ways they acted and looked. I realized there wasn’t just one way to be gay. Initially, I continued to dress in my bro clothes but maybe with a pink shirt instead of a blue one – like a subtle signal. Then when I was 25, I became really comfortable with my sexuality. Everyone knew I was gay, I’d been kicked out of the church, Lady Gaga was everywhere and LGBTQ culture was becoming mainstream. At that point I would say I came obnoxiously out: booty shorts, ripped clothes, lots of skin – there were no more subtle codes or hints.
“I rarely had bad responses to the way I dressed. Then I took a trip to Egypt. It hadn’t occurred to me that I would need to be sensitive to the culture. It was really hot and I was wearing my usual clothes. I remember we docked in Luxor and I was cornered by a bunch of men. They separated me from my friend, and were hissing at me, shouting in Arabic. I thought they were trying to mug me; it was only when I escaped and reflected I realized it was to do with the way I was dressed, and that I probably needed to rein things in sometimes. It also made me realize how lucky I am to live in Canada.
“Nowadays I’m very aware of my spaces. I still dress pretty consistently but I do modify my dressing according to where I’m going to be. I remember a year ago a colleague leaned over to me and said, ‘Matty, I can see your nipples. I shouldn’t be able to see your nipples in a staff meeting.’ My boyfriend at the time pointed out that the way I was dressing might not help my career.
“I don’t think my style will change much in the future, even as my body changes. Mariah Carey is my favourite artist and idol. Whatever her size or age, she’s always dressed the same despite the body shamers. Ultimately, people read your confidence, not the clothes – it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing as long as you feel strong and empowered.”
Left: Matty in his ‘bro’ phase, being a 'super straight guy.' Contributed photos
