Salutations, my sartorial superstars!
If you’re new here, welcome to Boy in Pink! If this isn’t your first catwalk, come strut with me.
Imagine, if you will, a nine-year-old boy’s tale. Fourth grade is kicking his ass, his favorite sister has moved out of the family home, and Nickelodeon keeps airing Winx Club during school hours. His only solace? A collection of scented t-shirts depicting his favorite foods as monsters. Fast forward twelve years later and the now twenty-one-year-old adorns his body with anything leopard print and takes every chance he can to rock his Steve Madden platform boots. If it wasn’t evident, the boy in question is me. “Derrick,” you might say, “how the hell did you go from evil hamburgers to dressing like someone’s auntie?” Well, I’ll tell you.
My relationship to clothing –– or rather the emergence of my sartorial expression –– began in 2011. A year prior, my dad had been involved in a near fatal car crash. He survived, but the accident left him with injuries that would leave him out of work for two years. With my dad unemployed, my mom was the sole breadwinner in our household. There wasn’t much bread to be had, though. If worrying about where my next meal would come from wasn’t enough, my oldest sister moved out, and I was devastated. She was (and continues to be) my source of strength. With an empty stomach and an even emptier heart, I didn’t know what to do. One faithful day, while browsing around my local Walmart, I stumbled upon a black t-shirt. In the center of the shirt was a crimson cup akin to the ones you get at a fast food restaurant. The cup had wicked eyes, ghastly teeth, and a blood thirsty smile. Me –– the boy who had been checking out Hannah Montana books at the school library –– thought, “Ah yes. A shirt for me.” What started as one shirt that smelled like fruit punch multiplied into shirts with hellish popcorn, animalistic pizza, and sinister hamburgers. I’m giggling as I write this because, yes, it’s a little absurd that my nine-year-old self’s sense of style was tees with demonic junk food. But when I think back to that time, it shows me how early on I experimented with my style and used it to express myself. Maybe I couldn’t have a hamburger for dinner that night, but I sure could show it off on my t-shirt. I couldn’t eat popcorn with my sister, but the evil kernels on my shirt reminded me of the times when I could.
Let’s skip ahead to 2015. Things had gotten a little better financially at home, but we didn’t have the budget to update thirteen-year-old Derrick’s wardrobe for eighth grade. Luckily, Derrick has a brother eight years his senior who’d outgrown clothes from college past. Digging through boxes of clothes, I found stripped sweaters, colorful khaki shorts, Ralph Lauren polos, and much more. I didn’t realize I had struck gold until one day at school. It was picture day, and I had chosen to wear a plain white t-shirt under an unbuttoned salmon-colored dress shirt, a pair of light wash jeans, and a pair of black tennis shoes. As I walked through that mean (and I mean MEAN) eighth grade hallway, a girl said she liked my outfit. A simple pleasantry, I know, but it made that closeted boy’s day. I felt stylish and sophisticated, and I realized that I had a knack for pairing pieces together. The Bratz would be proud.
For the most part, my style stayed the same throughout middle and high school. Button ups, nice jeans, sweaters, and reliable shoes got me several compliments during those years. It wasn’t until college that I realized I didn’t have to limit myself to the men’s aisle.
After working all of summer 2020, I entered my freshman year of college with some money to burn and the want for a new wardrobe. That’s when my new friend introduced me to Shein. Please forgive us as we were eighteen at the time and didn’t know any better. Still, when I logged on to that site for the first time, I was surprised and amazed at the variety in men’s clothing. Leopard print two-pieces? Floral print t-shirts? Pleather? Suddenly my fantasies of dressing like Buffy Summers or the fifth Cheetah Girl were a reality. As I sported these “avant garde” looks around campus, I quite literally felt like I was wearing my sexuality on my sleeve. I’d been out since 2016, but this was one of the first times I truly felt out. Like a cheetah can’t hide her spots, there was no hiding that I was a little (A LOT) queer.
We’ll end with where I’m currently at in my fashion journey. After a summer full of Sex and the City, Barbie, and a new doll or two, I’ve felt inspired to really lean in to my femininity, and I want my clothes to reflect that. No more looking online for feminine male clothing. Nope. We’re looking in the actual women’s section. Thus far, my senior year has involved midriffs, boots, lip gloss, and the fierce top seen way above. I want my looks to reflect the feminine energy I’ve been showering myself in, and –– if I can be catty for a moment –– I also want my clothes to send a message to certain institutions that you won’t be breaking my soul anytime soon. As one of my favorite Bratz songs says, I’ve got to make an impression, so I’m getting my looks all together and taking on the world. Try as you might, you cannot dull my shine and, like my purses and crop tops, I will not be going back into the closet.
If you made it this far, thank you for reading! I know this is a bit of departure from my usual work, but sometimes you’ve got to strike while the iron’s haute. Love and peace to all of you, and I hope to see you around soon. <3<3<3
(P.S. here’s a link to the Bratz song that inspired the title of this piece!)