The clothes we wear each day are far from neutral. They define us, protect us, betray us. Every fold, every fabric, every hue responds to a cultural code that, for centuries, has ordered the world through difference. One of the deepest pillars in that system is gender. We have been taught to dress “like women” or “like men”, as though the body required a visual translation to be made legible to others.
Yet we are living through a time of transition. Identities are no longer governed by fixed categories. Bodies are diversifying. Languages are expanding. And with them, fashion begins to disobey. It is in this context that genderless fashion emerges—not as a fleeting trend, but as a cultural and political gesture that dismantles the binary architecture of dressing.
This article is an invitation to immerse oneself in this new aesthetic. To explore its origins, its meanings, its implications. To discover the brands and designers reimagining it from different corners of the world. And to ask ourselves: what would it mean to dress without having to explain who we are?
What is genderless fashion and why is it more than a trend?
The concept
Genderless fashion refers to a design approach that rejects gender segmentation in clothing. Instead of creating collections “for men” or “for women”, brands craft garments that can be worn by anyone, regardless of their gender identity or expression.
But beyond that operational definition, genderless fashion is a radical questioning of fashion’s normative system. It doesn’t merely seek neutrality—it seeks liberation. It doesn’t aim to homogenise, but to enable. To imagine a space in which people can choose based on desire, not cultural imposition.
How does it differ from unisex fashion?
Often confused with the concept of unisex, genderless fashion goes further. While unisex fashion typically offers “neutral” garments intended for all, genderless fashion questions the very need to assign gender to clothing. Instead of universalising neutrality, it dissolves the binary structure altogether.
A brief history: from individual resistance to collective proposal
Inheriting the transgressive
Though the term has gained popularity in the past decade, genderless fashion has deeper roots. As early as the mid-20th century, designers like Pierre Cardin and Rudi Gernreich began to experiment with androgynous silhouettes. In the 1960s, Yves Saint Laurent shocked society by dressing women in tailored suits. By the 1980s, Jean Paul Gaultier had subverted masculine conventions by sending men down the runway in skirts.
Artists such as David Bowie, Prince, and Grace Jones were pioneers in dressing with deliberate ambiguity, exploring non-binary aesthetics long before we had language to name them.
A revolution of the present
Today, this questioning is no longer marginal—it is public, collective, and intergenerational. The rise of social media, the spread of queer theory, greater visibility of trans and non-binary identities, and growing criticism of consumer culture have all contributed to new generations demanding fashion that is freer, more inclusive, and more aligned with their truths.
The aesthetics of genderless fashion: rewriting codes
Shapes, volumes, and materials
Though genderless fashion has no single visual aesthetic, certain elements often reappear: loose cuts, structurally neutral shapes, layering, fluid textiles, and colour palettes not associated with any gender, beige, black, white, greys, soft pastels, and sometimes vibrant tones used without codification.
Garments tend to be versatile, adaptable to various body types. The aim is not to erase the body but to allow it to speak from a different place.
Visual examples: a white poplin shirt with no “male” or “female” buttons, no darts, no defined direction. Linen trousers with an elastic waistband and a wide, flowing leg. A raw cotton tunic that doesn’t distinguish gender, age, or season.
Sensuality, intimacy, and visibility
Perhaps one of the most valuable contributions of genderless fashion is its redefinition of sensuality. Rather than reproducing stereotypes, sexualised female bodies, hardened masculine ones, it proposes a more open relationship with skin, form, and desire.
Attraction lies not in what is shown or hidden, but in how a garment is inhabited, how it is worn, how it is lived.
Leading designers and brands in this transformation
Established designers
- Harris Reed
Known for fluid, theatrical, and baroque silhouettes, Reed celebrates a queer aesthetic through opulence. He has dressed icons such as Harry Styles and Florence Welch. His motto is clear: Romanticism Gone Non-Binary. - Telfar Clemens
Founder of the brand Telfar, Clemens has revolutionised fashion access through a lens of race, gender, and class. His iconic bags have been dubbed the “democratic Birkin”, and his collections are free of all labels. - Palomo Spain
Blending Andalusian drama with camp sensibility, Palomo has brought male-presenting bodies to the runway in lace, silk, embroidery, and skirts—without being reduced to costume. His work is unapologetically political. - Eckhaus Latta
An American brand that breaks norms in both aesthetic and casting. Real people, real bodies, real diversity. Fluid genders, different ages, and an unfiltered presence. - Ludovic de Saint Sernin
A young French designer exploring male sensuality with softness, transparency, and elegance. Think pearls, satin, sheer fabrics, and a reinterpretation of intimate apparel.
Emerging labels
- Official Rebrand (USA)
Created by non-binary artist MI Leggett, this New York-based label upcycles vintage garments into one-of-a-kind pieces that challenge gender, consumerism, and visual art simultaneously. - Studio 189 (Ghana/USA)
Co-founded by Rosario Dawson and Abrima Erwiah, the brand collaborates with African artisans to produce genderless clothing through ethical, sustainable methods. - Barragán (Mexico)
Founded by Víctor Barragán, this label is a leader in Latin American genderless fashion. Provocative, political, experimental—Barragán explores sexuality, race, and the body through hybrid, deconstructed aesthetics.
Genderless fashion and sustainability: an ethical convergence
Fashion without gender = fashion without excess
By removing binary categories, many genderless brands reduce the volume of collections, focusing on timeless, multipurpose garments. The outcome is less waste, less overproduction, and greater durability.
When a piece of clothing can be worn by people of any gender, it avoids the duplication of styles and marketing. One shirt, one pair of trousers, may circulate between bodies and seasons, prolonging both its lifespan and emotional value.
Materials, processes, and ethics
Genderless fashion is often inherently local, slow, and conscious. Organic cotton, linen, recycled fibres, and natural dyes are common. Production tends to be artisanal, low-volume, and unindustrialised.
This intersection between non-binary aesthetics and environmental ethics is no coincidence—it reflects a shared desire to transform the dominant logic of the industry, not just in what is visible, but in how clothing is made, who makes it, and for whom.
Genderless as a political, emotional, and everyday language
More than fashion
Dressing without gender is not merely a stylistic decision. It is a practice of freedom. A way to say: I don’t identify with your boxes. I don’t need my clothes to explain me. I don’t wish to be understood, I want to be felt.
In a world that still sorts, censors, and polices bodies, dressing without gender is a way of reclaiming sovereignty over oneself, over one’s skin, desire, and presence.
A wardrobe without rules, but full of memory
A genderless wardrobe is not empty, dull, or uniform. It is a living archive. A cartography of the self. A space where identity is crafted not through obedience, but through listening.
Where clothes stop dictating and start allowing, a new space opens, one that is not only more inclusive, but also more truthful.
Genderless fashion is not just another category in the industry. It is a rupture, a luminous crack in the traditional structure of dress. It does not erase gender, but refuses to accept it as the sole organising principle.
To dress without gender is an intimate and political act. A way of choosing from desire. From the body one has. From the story one wants to tell, and the one they no longer wish to repeat.
It is, ultimately, one of the most silent yet powerful ways of saying: Here I am. Without permission. Without mould. Without fear.
