This year, on Trans Day of Visibility, I came out to everyone as non-binary. For a long time, I identified as a gay man; it was what fit at the time. At the time being from a nowhere town called West Richland in Washington. Being queer wasn’t exactly an easy street in a high school that wouldn’t allow a GSA (Gay-Straight Alliance) to form under the pretense of not having enough gay members to join.
In this period of my life, I kept a low profile and dawned on what everyone else was wearing. It wasn’t until I arrived in San Francisco 11 years ago that I let the proverbial reign lose. Style, for me, allowed me to find my personal journey as a now non-binary person and allowed me to build my namesake label, And Our.
Though people stared, though remarks involved the F-Word slur could be heard, I truly was so far in my own bubble that any experience involving clothing never stuck nor changed my means of self-expression.
San Francisco seemed so big at the time, a family of four rolling into town at the dead of night from an exhausting 17-hour drive. The air was crisp, the lights were bright, something about seaside towns just filtered air better. San Francisco also housed some of the biggest personalities I had ever met — gay, lesbian, trans students whom we all lived in tight quarters dorms on Sutter street. It was the beginning of discovering personal style seriously, pieces that evoked a visual reaction out of me.
I took a reexamination of my closet and started to purge pieces that didn’t serve my purpose.
Even if it was a mock sailor’s jacket. San Francisco was the perfect backdrop to make these, maybe outlandish, sartorial decisions and the city truly welcomed it.
My days in a 2010 city were spent walking up and down Taylor and Mason streets in Jeffrey Campbell Lita’s —an early 2000’s staple—a Lady Gaga band tee stolen from Urban Outfitters, and a pair of denim cut-offs and floral tights. Peak young teen Tumblr energy. Stomping around with the confidence of a mediocre straight white man. Though people stared, though remarks involved the F-Word slur could be heard, I truly was so far in my own bubble that any experience involving clothing never stuck nor changed my means of self-expression.
In my college life, I was interning for my alma mater’s fashion programs, volunteering at runway shows as a dresser, and every Fashion’s Night Out that could happen I wanted to go. And the style followed. Albeit sale sections from Forever21 or Goodwill amongst very flashy men and women.
Like for most, March 17 of 2020 made everyone’s life take a pause. Forced to stay home, there was magic behind not putting on pants to go to work.
But style really taught me the meaning of expressing my own gender, it wasn’t until my first drag show at Oasis in 2016 did I really spark the notion of gender being expressed in every which way possible. Watching icons like Peaches Christ, Heklina, Juanita MORE! others in the San Francisco drag scene— i.e. Cash Monet, Mama Celeste, Rock M. Sakura, etc.—gave me keys to the lock.
Gender began to play a louder conversation for me when it came to dressing myself. I took a reexamination of my closet and started to purge pieces that didn’t serve my purpose.
From March of 2019 through January 2020, I had forgone my dresses and heels for jeans and sneakers, I replaced any fun frilly tops with oversized grey sweaters. The professional tech and e-commerce world sapped any personal sartorial creativity out of me, it was a hamster on the wheel of just wear comfortable and non-flashy clothing to blend in and get work done — miserable going to the Dogpatch on the 22, each and every time.
Like for most, March 17 of 2020 made everyone’s life take a pauce. Forced to stay home, there was magic behind not putting on pants to go to work. To be able to be in whatever state as you were to go into your digital office was freeing but it still didn’t make me happy.
Something deep down inside of me — my 2010 self—was knocking at the door and I wasn’t answering.
“I want people to fall in love with themselves and to be really proud and full of joy”, a voice from a familiar show rang out over my living room television. It was Jonathan Van Ness (JVN) from the hit Netflix reboot, Queer Eye. “For the space they take up. If someone else appreciates the space you take up, then that’s the icing on the cake.”
The early Anthony had been started to be renewed.
It was like a star from above shining down on me as I lived in a 200 sq ft prison of my own making. There he was, this non-binary person on television telling me about falling in love with myself. To say that I cried is an understatement.
Who was I in love within my earlier days in San Francisco? Why did I stop loving them? After binging all of the seasons of Queer Eye and every JVN interview — it came to me as I laid down drifting into sleep, “I can be whoever I want.”
The next morning, I was on a mission.
It’s a reason that came to design an 18 piece unigender line filled with loose-fitting bottoms, tight knits, structural tops — because giving someone the power to create themselves through garments is something that empowered me to be who I was.
I began going to Goodwills of San Francisco to find pieces that flattered my innate girliness, masculinity, my androgyny, my personality. Though slowly coming out of lockdown to a point by August of 2020, I challenged myself to reintroduce myself. Become whole with me through the power of clothing, how clothing sat on my body, how it helped tell my story, it’s like they say “one man’s trash is one non-binary person's world.”
The early Anthony had been started to be renewed.
As the pandemic began to progress and no stop was in sight at the time, I was worried about my future, all of my creative on-set work had dried up and most of my contacts had moved to other jobs around the country. I felt truly stuck in my career growth — a mindset felt and commonly shared by many San Franciscans and beyond. What does one do?
Well, they take a class to better themselves — for me, I decided to take Business Class, a 10-week long founder Bootcamp as taught by Sophia Amoruso. I wanted to beef up my skills with my ongoing media brand, Bob Cut Mag. It wouldn’t hurt, right? I had time to kill and wanted to set objectives with myself to make more strides with my platform.
The first two weeks of the class were brutal, it was taking a long hard look at what you wanted to do with your business.
Why can’t men, women, and everyone in between and on the outside shop a variety of exciting garments and not assume sex onto them?
Whose problem are you solving? Why do they need that problem solved? Who cares? Why do you want to bring time and money into this?
This was not the experience I had with starting Bob Cut Mag back in 2015. Was I cut out for this class? But again, I had a lot of time to think about other problems I’ve faced. Much like that night where I put my head down and promised to make a change for myself — it hit me, a clothing label that serves the purpose of shopping outside the binary. Not menswear, not womenswear, just anywear.
Especially during a time when people are finding themselves and their thrones, how could I help in that journey like JVN did for me?
Thus I created my second venture and label, And Our.
When we think about unisex clothing, we’re taught that a grey t-shirt (that’s ultimately in men’s sizing) is unisex, it will fit most. That’s something I wanted to do away with in And Our. Why can’t men, women, and everyone in between and on the outside shop a variety of exciting garments and not assume sex onto them?
It’s a reason that came to design an 18 piece unigender line filled with loose-fitting bottoms, tight knits, structural tops — because giving someone the power to create themselves through garments is something that empowered me to be who I was.
Being able to express my humanity through garments is empowering as a non-binary person, I started this label to give people tools for expression through gender undefined clothing. Beyond menswear, womenswear, or gender-defining categories, anywear is meant for those who want megaphones for dressing in what showcases them best in whatever gender they assume.
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As we start to emerge more and more from our homes and return to friends, work, obligations, my hope is that those who want a change or want to reinvent their identity to follow suit with who they are on the inside take the leap.
Take a leap to see a brighter tomorrow and a new decade, take a leap today.
