BREAKING NEWS: The Official LGBTQ+ Uniform Has Been Discontinued

Let’s get one thing straight (pun absolutely intended): society seems to be collectively obsessed with categorising people based on aesthetics. We expect librarians to wear cardigans, tech CEOs to live in grey T-shirts and, apparently, queer people to come with a highly specific, colour-coded wardrobe and a mandated haircut.

But here is the foundational truth we need to establish right out of the gate, and repeat until it sticks: sexuality doesn’t have a look.

The missing wardrobe?

If you listen to mainstream stereotypes, you might think there’s a secret, underground orientation day where new members of the LGBTQIA+ community are handed an iced coffee, glitter, a pair of cuffed jeans and a highly specific pop music playlist.

When someone says, “Oh, I had no idea, you don’t look gay,” what exactly are they looking for? Are we expecting a literal trail of glitter? A neon sign blinking above our heads? This expectation of a “queer aesthetic” creates a bizarre paradox.

People expecting you to “look” your sexuality are usually looking for a walking stereotype, not a multifaceted human being.

Assuming that everyone who wears what counts as normal in your bubble is strictly heterosexual erases a massive part of the community. News flash: LGBTQIA+ people exist in corporate boardrooms, in our hospitals, at the rolex stand and at the gym.

Hair looked after and dyed blue? Must be queer. Marine cut? Must be straight. The reality is that hair is just dead protein sprouting from our scalps. It does not know who we want to date. Sexuality doesn’t have a look.

Skinny jeans and tight tops for men? A baggy aesthetic for women? Fabric does not possess a sexual orientation. It is simply woven textile, whether it’s being used to chop wood in rural Bukomansimbi or to attend a Pride parade. Sexuality doesn’t have a look.

Society loves to analyse hand gestures, walking speed and vocal pitch to determine someone’s private life. Mannerisms are a product of culture, environment and personal quirkiness, not a biological indicator of who we love.

Why does this matter?

Here at UmojaPride, our advocacy is rooted in recognising the fundamental, unfiltered humanity of all people. When we box people into aesthetic categories, we not only limit their expression but also invalidate their identities.

Believing in a “queer look” forces people into a state of imposter syndrome within their own community simply because they prefer a tailored suit to sequins, or a quiet night in to a loud festival. The beauty of the human spectrum is exactly that: it’s a spectrum. It doesn’t come with a dress code.

So, the next time you find yourself trying to use your “gaydar” to scan a room, save your battery. The person in the sharp three-piece suit might be a lesbian. The guy in the scuffed combat boots might be gay. The person in the most aggressively average, unremarkable beige jumper might identify anywhere across the LGBTQ+ spectrum.

Let’s say it one more time, a little louder: sexuality doesn’t have a look!