2 minute read
A QUEER EXCUSE FOR SEQUINED BOOTS
Recently at a friend’s house, a sickening pair of blue gem-studded stiletto boots, which had taken up residence on her bedroom floor, caught my eye. Her response: ‘kitsch.’ For good or evil, these boots forced me to re-evaluate our friendship, and as a result, my understanding of the kitsch aesthetic. Arguably the ugliest things I’d ever seen, these boots were a perfect example of the devious ‘kitsch’ beloved by the queer community.
Recently at a friend’s house, a sickening pair of blue gem-studded stiletto boots, which had taken up residence on her bedroom floor, caught my eye. Her response: ‘so kitsch.’ For good or evil, these boots forced me to re-evaluate our friendship, and as a result, my understanding of the kitsch aesthetic. Arguably the ugliest things I’d ever seen, these boots were a perfect example of the devious ‘kitsch’ beloved by the queer community.
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Unsurprisingly, both the kitsch and the camp have been deemed distasteful by the mainstream heterosexual canon. What heteronormative society has turned its back on, the queer community has raised from the ashes of the outdated and mainstream. Styles now worn by drag queens worldwide are an ironic recalling of the pre-2008-recession trends. The y2k maximalist aesthetics, quintessential to the likes of Brittany Spears and Paris Hilton, have been reconstructed from the excess of consumer culture into a thing of beauty. The kitsch style lovingly embraces its ugly origins by mixing patterns, textures, and styles. It is a far cry from the minimalism that would shun the offensive electric blue boots currently in my friend’s wardrobe. Through exaggeration and excess, the kitsch becomes a platform for the breaking of gender binaries and social critique.
The kitsch and the queer, then, are inherently intertwined. Contemporary culture is perpetually influenced by queer aesthetics, which cannot exist without the adoption of kitsch. Inspired by Susan Sontag’s writings, the 2019 Met Gala ‘Camp: Notes on Fashion’ made camp, kitsch and queer styles accessible to contemporary, mainstream fashion. Many of the looks worn by attendees went above and beyond the extravagant brief, of which Jared Leto carrying his own head like a purse was a highlight. The event also included attendees who missed the point of camp. Karlie Kloss evidently wasn’t “looking camp right in the eye” in her painfully underwhelming gold dress. Taking themselves too seriously, these guests embodied the minimalism that rules high fashion with an iron fist. Many attendees woefully misunderstood the deliciously ironic flourishing of the camp style, and the queer joy they were asked to represent.
So, the question that I must ask myself is, can kitsch ever really be adopted by mainstream culture? Clearly, those most influential to us, those in the limelight, can’t understand the mocking nature of kitsch. Isn’t this what gives it its sparkle? Just like queer culture, kitsch’s edge, what makes it stand out from the mainstream, is its flourishing on the fringes of society. It would almost be contradictory if everyone at the Met Gala were to do ‘camp’ well.
For the queer community, adopting a kitsch aesthetic has the power to reclaim heteronormative conceptions of ‘failure’. Surprisingly easy to walk in (of course, I gleefully tried them on), those kitschy blue sequined boots go against what straight success is expected to look like. Maybe those boots can help in finding a wonderful world of queer expression without the ostracising gaze of heteronormative society. The queer community’s use of kitsch is a hopeful one. The transformation of ugly fashion and art is a playful celebration of queer culture. They are embracing themselves and the stereotypes in all their glory, all while having fun in a pair of blue sequined boots. The embrace of the cringe and the ugly, the love for big prints, and the eccentrically bad taste, have been drawing us in. The more you can’t look away, the less you want to.