Fashion Labels as Houses

Fashion Labels as Houses

White Folks Gawking at Black Queer folks on Christopher Street winter 2012 photo by E.B. Bratton

Kennedy Karavas Pizza & Pita Winter 2012 photo by E.B. Bratton

Kiki Awards Ball spring 2012 photo by E.B. Bratton

Krystal and Daniella Wig Shopping Winter 2012 photo by E.B. Bratton

Stardasia on Christopher Street Winter 2012 photo by E.B. Bratton

Today Ballroom scene participants also walk fashion categories as diverse as the apparel industry itself. Labels, Sneaker vs. Sneaker, and other Labels categories demand that in order for one to get their tens they must be dressed head to toe in the best of the best and latest of what mainstream design firms have to offer. Moreover, if we go back to the hosts Jack Mizrahi and think about his chosen last name we see that not only are participants wearing the labels on their body, but also have adopted these labels as part of their Ballroom identity. Jack is the Overall Father of the House of Mizrahi, named after the famous fashion designer Isaac Mizrahi.  Ballroom houses generally feature the names of famous mainstream fashion design corporations such as St Laurent, Garcon, and Dior. These fashion houses are predominantly European clothiers and are also multi-national brands. They are the epitome of privilege and wealth and incidentally, places irony and camp at the center of the House Ballroom Scene’s construction. It is extremely ironic that a crowd of predominantly black and Latino folks who come from poverty usurp the names of White European super wealthy fashion houses. The very mobility that the names of these brands have in mainstream culture is in stark contrast to the lack of mobility experienced by the participants within the House Ballroom scene. This is not to say that each and every person within the scene is poor and unable to or even hasn’t traveled the globe. The musicians featured in my research Mike Q and Vaughn Allure each brought their music to over twenty countries. Furthermore, Legendary performers such as Twiggy Garcon, and Jack Mizrahi have been invited to many global capitals and traversed the United States bringing the Ballroom with them. Nonetheless, these folks are roundly anomalies. For most individuals I have spoken to Vogue Knights and the Balls in the New York City area encompass the extent of their travel and education. It is also necessary to consider the irony in calling a house a house. Houses in the House Ballroom Scene are ironic structures in that they mirror various social locations that have traditionally been hostile to queer black and brown lives. The Houses are in fact teams. They operate in ways remarkably similar to sporting outfits accept the members of House Ballroom teams are not expected to be heterosexual. In my own teen years I always played individual sports to avoid the discomfort of being a gay guy in the locker room. The Houses of the Ballroom are both a commentary on the team organizational structure of the heterosexual world and actual organizations in their own right. The house as an organizing principle is at the juncture of the separation between public and private space for families. In this way, the houses of the ballroom also operate as sights critique of the heterosexual familial structure. In context of race, much ink has been spilled in the recent past detailing the troubles black and brown queers face when they come out. My film Pier Kids: The Life is all about how gay black youth are forced into homelessness as a result of blood familial rejection, and how through chosen family find solutions to cope with that condition. I myself spent ten years homeless as a result of my family’s inability to accept my sexuality. Like the Victorian, Aluminum siding, and trailer homes that line American neighborhoods the houses of the Ballroom scene are composed of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunties, uncles, and cousins. This irony positions the Houses of the Ballroom as a solution to the worst consequences of black and brown homophobia in that young queer people of color are able to experience family within a totally queer environment and at least at the creative level gain a home. However, not every ballroom house is named after white fashion conglomerates. Some are named after black corporations like “Ebony.” Others are original names like “Labeija.” In this way, all Ballroom Houses are a commentary on white supremacy. In the case of those who choose multi-national corporate names, they challenge a socio-economic global hierarchy that assumes people of color are not present or even relevant to these companies’ interests. In the case of those who choose conglomerates of black origin, the names serve as a statement of the value of black creativity and business acumen. In the case of original names, we see the affirmation of local traditions and language as a rubric through which those queer bodies recover their identity within their root communities and in spite of those communities’ homophobia or transphobia. However, in the interim between Hughes’ observations in the 1920s and my research, the balls have developed a new feature, the Vogue dance form. Further, the expansion of categories since the twenties also includes the expansion of the Ballroom function. Moreover, the House Ballroom scene with the capital of non-profit AIDS service agencies like the Gay Mens Health Crisis and Gay Men of African Descent has accommodated the youngsters in the community through the erection of the Kiki scene. It features younger participants and its categories are not as bounded by high-end consumer culture. At this year’s Kiki Legends Ball, I witnessed a winner of Kiki Labels who stated that her effect (outfit) was “found at a thrift store” and “on the street corner.” The fact that a club or a Community center or even Christopher Street are the sites upon which the notion of a Ballroom House is situated raises these sites beyond the realm of leisure and into the realm of necessity.