This is a brief story about reveling in a queer centered and curated space that brought me centered with my community.

I often look at the closet I chose to curate for myself and wonder if walking out my door, down the street as if it were a runway, will feel less like I’m making a “statement” someday. But at the same time, I don’t want it to feel any less than an expression of my rebirth, thriving and flourishing. 

On a whim, I decided to submit my measurements and photos to a google form that was posted in a Trans Gender Non-Conforming artists Facebook group. It was for Prometheus Productions first ever fashion show of six Trans and Queer designers, with over two dozen models.

The themes were of rebirth, thriving and flourishing, and as Queer artists there is plenty of that to go around.

I was ecstatic to be selected. The message said, “Thank you so much for submitting an application to be a model in our Midsummer Fashion Show! We’ve reviewed all of the applications, and are delighted to announce that we would love to have you be a part of the runway!” There were names on the list of models I had never seen before, and some friends I knew well.

The designers shared their inspiration images with us and I was so enamored. Bright colors, statuesque models, energetic, flowing fabrics. It was still months before I would see the final products, but the designers’ inspiration had me daydreaming.

I had never walked a runway before but I felt confident in my stage presence and abilities as a trained musical theatre performer. I’m used to the waiting game. Theatre is always a lot of “hurry up and wait.”

The time couldn’t approach fast enough. I was ready to be in a space filled with Queer and Trans folks and the expansive creative energy of the Queer fashion world. What was I going to wear? Who was going to be watching? Gosh, I hope I don’t trip.

***

It was a hot day in the park. We were gathered around a small wet pad - a few inches deep pool of water with fountains spitting the cold water straight up into the air - where children splashed and screamed and laughed.

I looked around me as more people gathered in preparation for today's event: the fashion show.

There were styles of all kinds: alternative, punk, cottage core, shaved heads, waist length hair, extravagant makeup, all black ensembles, fluorescent jumpsuits, anything you could think of. There was even a lovely group of people who decked themselves out in bubblegum pink and baby blue cosplay outfits complete with matching wigs and platform shoes. 

My friend and I exchanged hugs and greetings.

“I didn’t know there would be so many Queer people here,” they said with a surprised grin. 

Everywhere you turned you saw Queerness. It’s unmistakably different from the energy you get from the park visitors who weren’t involved in the show. A t-shirt and jeans suddenly becomes a statement when a Queer person puts it on.

The personality is shown through the silhouette and the accessories added to the average, everyday “costume” we dress ourselves in each morning. Queer people just know how to make it look… queer!

Off to the left there was a giant white tent being erected where we would change into costume. The energy was buzzing as organizers fluttered about, hauling racks of clothing, boxes of accessories, and mannequins wrapped in colorful tulle. I had no idea that the splash pad, this community gathering place for families to enjoy, would be the runway. 

The once energetic and splashing water that was echoing the screams and giggles of small children just a few hours earlier was turning into a calm, reflective work of art. The fountains stilled and the surface of the water held the spots of light peeking through the leaves of the park's tall oak trees.

The team began decorating the water with the tulle-covered mannequins. The aqua blue, lime green, bright red, and sunset pink was strung through the water, as if someone dipped a paint brush across the surface. They put out candles and pictureless frames along the walkway that surrounded the pool. They were small and strewn about the rocks surrounding the concrete. A few sat in the pool of water, some hung on the mannequins. The candles were fake, but they fit the vibe nonetheless.

Time was moving quickly.  Tables erected. Makeup starting. Queer artist vendors arrived and set up their tables with handmade jewelry, art, and other offerings. Designers rolled racks of clothes across bumpy grass. Hairspray was blowing in the wind.

I donned my first of two outfits. Designer Ophelia Charles’s collection Feast of Decay explored the “theme of rebirth as a transformative process of the old being broken down to make way for new.” This outfit had a bright mustard yellow top, and poofy brown pants with a lace-up front and, most importantly, a cape embellished with sequins, in a pattern inspired by a moth.

I, the moth, was transformed into a flashy, desirable creature whose wings reflected in the sun peeking through trees and bouncing off water.

The music began to play. I began jumping up and down, shaking the tension from my body and face. I put on a look of determination and made my way toward the stairs.

As I made my way down to begin my strut, I heard the cheers. I hit my first pose: arms spread out and my feet together like I was in a Shakespearean play. My chest puffed out with as much confidence as I could muster. A smirk drew across my face.

Walking the concrete runway I saw my friends cheering me on. Their smiling faces. 

“Yes, Sam!” With snaps, hoots and hollers. I couldn’t keep a straight face, I was elated!

There in that moment, literally surrounded by my people, I felt the energy that the Queer community brings like no other. That show, that expression of artistic pursuits, still uplifts my spirits. Every stitch, step, and cheer was a testament to all the Queers who came before us. Those who used fashion to express their authentic selves. Those who were arrested in the 70s when crossdressing was considered illegal. Those who dared to be different loudly so that I could be different comfortably.

As I made my pose, I felt triumphant and elegant and energetically aligned with the crowd. 

I rushed back to the tent to put on my next outfit. This included hand dip-dyed, shin-length pants, with an ornate pattern that was highlighted by the maroon wine they were colored with. I threw on the shirt and put on a blue and purple eyeshadow that went across my eyes and over the bridge of my nose. 

Off in the distance, I heard the roar of the crowd cheering on the intermission drag and burlesque show. 

I walked the runway for the final time that day. The praise and the excitement from my fellow Queer models made me feel ecstatic. 

I took a bow. 

About the Author

Sam Spadafore (He/him they/them) is a white, queer, nonbinary trans man currently living on settled Wabanaki tribal land known as Portland, Maine. Sam writes poetry and articles focusing on mental health, Queer and Trans identity, sex and sexuality. They are also an educator, theatre artist, activist, and steering committee member at MaineTransNet. Check out what Sam’s been up to at samspadaforeofficial.com.