No Gender, Just Attitude
Saint Laurent reshapes power and identity by dissolving gender boundaries through refined, fluid tailoring that challenges traditional fashion codes.
Hailey Bieber wears a black Saint Laurent double-breasted blazer minidress with glossy satin lapels, styled by Andrew Mukamal, at the Met Gala 2025. Available via IG @haileybieber. © All rights belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Saint Laurent isn’t asking whether fashion can be genderless. It’s answering with something far more interesting: Why should it even matter? Under Anthony Vaccarello’s direction, Saint Laurent has transformed the concept of gender fluidity from a theoretical talking point into a lived-in visual language. This is not about androgyny as an aesthetic trend but about power and how it’s worn, shaped, softened, and recorded. In Saint Laurent’s world, power no longer belongs to suits, to shoulders, to a binary. It belongs to the person bold enough to redefine it.
The house’s approach doesn’t rely on spectacle. Instead, it does something subtler and smarter. Vaccarello’s silhouettes are sharp but not stiff, sensual but never overtly stylized. A tailored blazer with no shirt beneath. Sheer fabrics rendered in deep, almost liquid blacks. These choices are not just “edgy” for the sake of it; they challenge the historical language of dress codes.
Take, for instance, the enduring presence of “Le Smoking,” Yves Saint Laurent’s 1966 tuxedo for women. Once a radical gesture of empowerment, it’s now reincarnated not just for all genders but as a vessel for ambiguity. In today’s collections, this tuxedo doesn’t symbolize a woman taking on male power; it suggests that the construct of power itself is up for redesign. Vaccarello builds on this legacy not by repeating it but by dissolving its original opposition.
This fluidity isn’t about erasing gender; it’s about giving it new tools. A man in Saint Laurent may appear unguarded in silk; his strength is redefined through vulnerability. A woman may wear a boxy coat, not to “masculinize” herself but to occupy space differently. These aren’t opposites colliding; they’re elements coexisting. The clothes create a space where contradiction feels natural, even elegant.
Fashion often tries to signal progress with obviousness. Saint Laurent resists that urge. There are no rainbow tags or overly declarative slogans. The messaging is embedded in the construction, in the way the clothes move, drape, and shape the body without trying to control it. This restraint lends the brand a rare kind of confidence, reflecting its gender fluidity. It’s not trying to prove a point; it already is the point.
Of course, Saint Laurent’s presence on red carpets and in campaigns bolsters this ethos. But what makes the brand’s approach noteworthy isn’t who’s wearing it; it’s how it frames wearability itself. Who gets to look powerful? Who gets to be seen as desirable, commanding, soft, or severe? Saint Laurent offers no answers, only options. And in that openness lies its quiet revolution. To wear Saint Laurent today is to step into a narrative that refuses to conclude. It’s not about transformation or rebellion for its own sake. It’s about editing identity with intention layer by layer, look by look. Because in the end, Saint Laurent’s most radical act isn’t breaking the rules. It’s making us forget they were ever there!
