In 1984, the pop scene exploded with a bold new talent who simply went by the name Prince. Prince was an image of rowdiness, yet with the sophisticated collar and make-up of royalty. Years of touring and playing lead him to his wildly successful album Purple Rain. One of the highlights of the album, and a fitting statement to his style and career, is the opening verse to his song “I Would Die 4 U”:
“I’m not a woman,
I’m not a man,
I’m something that you’ll never understand.”
Prince cemented himself in pop culture history as an androgynous icon, artfully mixing his feminine style with his masculine energy. His existence in a state of androgyny, along with presence of other androgynous rockers, propelled a movement of self-acceptance in the youth of the rock and punk eras.
Androgyny has several definitions, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, described as something with both masculine and feminine qualities, or someone “having an ambiguous sexual identity.” For decades, people have used the term androgynous in reference to themselves as a form of gender and personal expression. To the androgynous person, it is a combination of fashion and lifestyle. Some androgynous women wear suits and raise kids; some androgynous men wear skirts and chop wood (looking at you, Scotland). It is a highly individual form of expression.
Going back to the history, a movement of androgynous fashion began in the psychedelic 60s. Fans of the Rolling Stones remember the concert in Hyde Park in 1969, when frontman Mick Jagger wore a white dress on stage. Beyond just being the highly-stylized look of a very charismatic singer, it was a part of a greater movement of men in the music industry towards exploring gender expression. The white dress was just another extension of men growing their hair long: a single drop of water in a puddle that led to a wave of changing gender expression.
The birth and death of disco in the 70s continued the tradition. Just watch an episode of Soul Train circa 1975 – women and men wore just about the same outfits, but with different color schemes and lots and lots of rhinestones. And of course, this conversation cannot happen without mention of Ziggy Stardust, the pangender, spaced-out alter ego of David Bowie in the 70s. Bowie gleefully bent the rules and regulations of gender by wearing copious amounts of makeup, appearing on album sleeves in dresses and becoming the first musician of the rock era to willingly come out as gay in 1974. From there, rock ‘n’ roll music became the nest of socially ostracized individuals, both in sexual and gender minorities.
The punk music explosion of the 1980s gave androgynous ladies a moment in the sunshine. Icons, like singer Annie Lennox, stormed the stage in big, square-shouldered white suits with tightly tailored vests underneath. Notable in the punk music movement is the fashion movement that followed in its wake. Hairstyles and makeup lost gender assignment, with women shaving parts or all of their head and men wearing makeup. At the base of the punk movement was the gender freedom movement, which encouraged gender non-conforming individuals and non-binary gender individuals the safety to express themselves in a crowd with less scrutiny from the public.
Today, we look to the influences of Tegan and Sara, Janelle Monae and Lady Gaga, who continue the musical tradition of asking: what is masculine and what is feminine? More and more, these figures in pop are coming out as members of the LGBT+ community. Fans see the free expression of these cultural giants as an opportunity to be their non-conforming true selves. Teens everywhere flock to musical icons for inspiration, and as musicians grow more open and expressive, they inspire their fan base to do the same.
For me, it was the indelible impression of Elton John that made me feel at home. There was something incredibly heartfelt and wildly outrageous about the “madman across the water” that spoke to the heart of this androgynous little girl. When all the world said “tomboy,” “loser” and “she-male,” John, in all his diamond-studded glory, screamed “rockstar.” It was not just the quality of the music that was impressionable; it was the confidence in being who he wanted to be that was inspiring. This writer found a home in the big rings, bell-bottoms and the ever present message of “be who you are.”