We don’t really talk about fatness, as a society. Or we do, only in the cruellest ways possible, so when we actually should be talking about it, we don’t. This means that a lot of my friends don’t know that I can’t buy clothes on the highstreet (I float somewhere between a 20 and 22, and most stores cap out at an 18), or that I under no circumstances can wear a skirt without shorts. Here’s another thing no thin person knows: gender gets really weird when you’re fat.
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| ID: 'We Need More Fat Goths: a Manifesto'. Credit: Marsh Howell |
So what do fat people do? Largely, wear jeans and a t-shirt (and feel bad about ourselves taking up any space in the world). And I don’t blame them – fatphobia is so painfully present and difficult to unlearn. Plus, we deserve to be able to put no effort into our appearance, just like the rest of you. But, if you’re fat and you want to look like you’re trying, what do you wear? Usually, the most gender conforming outfit you can find in your size. In Happy Fat, (a fantastic mix of fat liberation and self-help book), Sofie Hagen writes: “the more feminine we are, the more we are apologising for being unfuckable fatties. There is a reason why plus-size clothes are 99 per cent flowery. It is cute and unthreatening. What says ‘sorry’ more than a shit-load of flowers?”
This mode of dress as apology is a pretty accurate observation of fat fashion – that we have to make up for our bodies by hyper-performing gender. This is probably most clear when you look at the one alternative fashion subculture that fat people are occasionally prominent in: vintage reproduction. I did my time in the swing dress, and it looks so good on us. But it feels like the only option if you want to look hot. And I do.
The issue of hotness is pretty integral to both transness and fatness, in very different ways. For trans people, the fetishization of the cisgender gaze is always a worry, that attraction comes under conditions of dehumanisation and secrecy so often that we have to push back. And this push back is wonderful – transgender sexuality without consideration of cis desires is powerful and important. There isn’t really an equivalent for fat people. Desexualisation is far, far more common that fetishization, and we respond by working harder to perform ‘traditional’ gender roles - “It seems like it is expected of us to attempt to obtain ultimate femininity to make up for how desexual we automatically become just from being fat.” (Sofie Hagen again.) The line we are sold about our own bodies is that we are inherently unattractive, and therefore must be dolled up to the extremes to counteract this.
Step one to combatting this is pretty clear: learn to understand yourself as a hot person not despite your fatness, but because of it. It’s also a lot of internal emotional work and highly personal. Step two is way more fun. Start dressing the way that makes you feel most like yourself.
Here is where, finally, I’m gonna tell you why you should try being goth. Or at least, wearing all black in a cool and intentional way (I have a lot of thoughts on goth discourse, and this is not the place to express them.) The most obvious benefit of going goth is you get to be simultaneously transgressive and hot – a pretty sweet deal in my books. You don’t have to hyper-perform gender because it becomes so aesthetically weird – the default mode in traditional goth styles is a more alienating femininity (even for men!) but there’s a thousand offshoots and substyles that play with gender differently- and it all looks incredible. Of all the ways to get weird with gender presentation, goth is a pretty fun tradition to participate in. My aesthetic styles lean into the hyperfeminine still, but now I view myself as something closer to a drag queen. If someone else falls for the performance, that’s not my problem. I feel confident in myself as a fat man, because there’s automatically always something weirder going on – suddenly, taking up space is no longer something I cannot avoid, but a choice. My trousers audibly jingle as I walk from all the chains on them, and that sort of thing makes it hard to care about my hips brushing against people whenever I walk through a narrow aisle (seriously, I’m writing this from the silent section of the library, and the chains are LOUD).
It doesn’t feel like my body is a secret I have to keep anymore – I own more crop tops than full length ones, and basically live in fishnets. And for me, that’s revolutionary. There is, of course, the alternative fetishization to deal with (I swear to god if I ever hear the words Big Titty Goth GF again I am going to walk into the Tay and befriend the trout). At first, it’s kind of an ego boost – especially when you’ve been desexualised for so long – but that’s sort of why learning to understand your fat body as worthy (and also hot) is step one. Sooner or later you realise that whatever guy (in my experience, it’s always been a guy) who’s desperate for you to be his goth dommy mommy (the trout are calling to me) actually doesn’t interest you at all, and that you don’t need that validation. You’re not desperate, and you never had to be. Attractiveness is a really complicated idea, and is by no means the be all and end all of relating to one’s self – but I think for a lot of fat people, it feels unattainable, or at least requires a specific gender performance. I just want to show everyone that it isn’t.
There is also the fact that, of all fashion subcultures, hardcore alternative is the most easy to DIY. It’s also way easier to get secondhand. Charity shops as a fat person are comically restricting – pretty reliably there will be no more than a handful of items in my size in a St. Andrews charity shop, and they’re all florals. But if your only criteria is black, and you’ve got an imagination, there’s a lot more than you might think. Get creative with it – I promise you it’s fun. I taught myself to sew because I couldn’t find fun clothes in my size, and while I’m still not amazing at it, it has changed my relationship with fashion. It feels like a creative pursuit now, one I’m confident in because I’ve developed experience.
One last note on the benefit of alternative fashion – shoes. I cannot wear conventional high heels – they’re not designed to take my weight. It just hurts too much. This is, of course, a failing of shoe designers. It makes owning ‘nice’ shoes feel impossible, especially when your stylings are more fem. Enter: the big stompy platform boot. I think we dismissed the Demonia from it’s time in the sun too quickly. They’re comfortable! And they fit my calves! The adjustable buckles mean I can wear knee high boots – something that has never been possible before. They’re also pretty easy to find secondhand, and can (sometimes) be pretty affordable considering what they are.
The thing I love most about gothic and alternative fashion is it can be whatever you need it to be. It can be cheap, expensive, feminine, masculine, revealing, modest, extravagant, or minimal. But above everything else, it can be fat.
P.S – Brief dip into Goth Discoursetm: it is of course a music based subculture, and just wearing black in a cool way isn’t being goth. However, goth is a useful shorthand for the fashion choices I am describing. Also! Get into the music! It bangs!