Jonathan Copeland models an outfit for Project Andro, as seen on the River City Fashion Uprising website. (Photo by Jacynth Rodriguez)
I should have known I would want to be in the fashion industry from my childhood fascination with styling my sister’s Barbie dolls. I took pride in dressing those dolls in wild yet elegant get-ups — not for anyone to see or admire, but for my own satisfaction. Instead of dressing myself in extravagant clothes, this is how I was able to exercise my innate need to be creative and expressive, and I played with dolls behind closed doors until I left for college. I think I played with them more than my sister did, but considering the insular, heteronormative culture I was accustomed to, I never fathomed that such a career opportunity existed for me.
As a child growing up in a military family that moved frequently, I dressed like any other boy, watched action cartoons, and chased and teased the girls. I played a lot of contact sports, but I was a bit more effeminate than other boys, and I had more girls than boys as friends. I experienced a fair amount of ridicule. In our American culture, boys are put under tremendous pressure to be hyper-masculine. They don’t have much permission to be flamboyant or to pay close attention to their appearance. I found it difficult, as a boy, to articulate my passion for fashion, and I never allowed myself until much later to recognize how much fashion was an actual passion of mine.
I felt stifled, having to literally hide in my closet, dressing dolls. I desperately wanted to rid myself of the paralyzing inhibition that kept me caged throughout childhood. During my first few semesters at Norfolk State University, my self-identity evolved quickly as I began voraciously exposing myself to the fashion industry through blogs and playing with garments that would let me express who I was.
For inspiration, I looked to fashion model Agyness Deyn. Her personal style was often an interesting cross between a punky, 1920s newsboy and a girly fashion plate, mixing all types of men’s and women’s garments, which simply expressed joy and fun, not masculinity or femininity. I appreciated the positive energy that radiated from her, and I aspired to wear my clothes in a way that would allow me to find my own zest for living.
What I realized during my style journey is that I wasn’t particularly seeking “a look.” I was seeking confidence.
To me, style means the best way one displays confidence for oneself. I have always loved fashion and its transformative, confidence-building powers, and by studying Deyn’s style, I essentially wanted to know how I could project confidence like she did. I am a believer in finding one’s role models wherever one can find them. I am inspired by the duality of women — docile yet aggressive, nurturing yet ferocious. I always felt that women’s clothes were much more fun to wear than men’s clothes because of the variations in what is designed for women. In no way do I want to become female, but along my sartorial journey, I knew I would feel much more comfortable in my skin if I wasn’t boxed into traditional expressions of gender.
To me, style means the best way one displays confidence for oneself.
My perspective on fashion changed when I took a fashion history course and realized that throughout history, the types of clothing worn have had differing interpretations depending on the cultural context of a society. I enjoy accentuating my height, so I started wearing long kimonos in lavish colors, worn by men and women in ancient Japan. The kurta, worn by Indian men, is basically a tunic or sheath dress. I thought back to ancient warriors who wore loincloths and skirts of armor, and religious figures who wore robes and sheaths. These were the costumes of the most revered men in society at one time. It became clear to me that our labels of masculinity and femininity are subjective and open to interpretation.
I thought about that as I started my first post-college job at the Virginia Department of Taxation in Richmond. What was wrong with presenting myself in more feminine garb, as long as I was achieving the business goals of the organization? Thinking of high-powered career women such as Anna Wintour, editor-in-chief of Vogue, or Joi Gordon, CEO of Dress for Success, I started wearing skirt suits and mixing women’s accessories and jewelry with my men’s suits. As I grow older and witness the adversity our gender-nonconforming community is experiencing, I find it important to demonstrate a positive affirmation of how masculinity can be amplified through womenswear and what the range of gender expression can be in our world. Considering I wasn’t fired, or harassed with invasive and inappropriate comments or questions, I think the message was received well at my workplace.
The way we dress allows us to project the best image of ourselves, regardless of gender norms. In the words of Marianne Williamson, “As we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
Jonathan Copeland is a Richmond-based fashion stylist/merchandiser, publishing entrepreneur, boutique manager for Dress for Success Central Virginia and program leader for Art 180. He recently spoke at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts about pushing gender boundaries as part of the Yves Saint Laurent exhibition.
