In Johnson’s hands, an old dress became a beacon of hope. Johnson gained notoriety for creating one-of-a-kind ensembles out of cast-offs. There is, however, something especially incongruous about an image of Johnson on a T-shirt when no LGBT historical figure used fashion as deliberately or effectively as she. No T-shirt can hope to convey the complexity of the queer and transgender liberation struggle we celebrate during Pride month. Commodified pride products transform our political demands into personal statements, dulling our movement’s radical edge. In its own way, the Pride Collection functions like the thorazine doctors pumped into Johnson’s body without her consent. Johnson was participating in a protest of Bellevue Hospital, where both she and Sylvia Rivera had been held against their wills, receiving forced medical treatment designed to cure them of their sexualities, gender identities and radical politics. The context of the photograph is similarly missing. A keen observer will notice that the designers have edited out Johnson’s cigarette. In this picture, Johnson is holding a sign reading “Power to the People,” an ironic message on a mass-produced product. The product in the Pride Collection that causes me the most distress is a surprising one: a T-shirt bearing a photograph of Stonewall veteran Marsha P. Twenty percent of all industrial water pollution comes from the sector, along with 10 percent of all carbon emissions. The fashion sector employs one out of six people on Earth, but fewer than two percent of those workers earn a living wage. The Pride Collection is infinitely less objectionable than Raytheon’s attempt to rebrand its weaponry for Pride month.īut there are social and environmental costs to the “fast fashion” Target sells. Furthermore, Target does make an annual donation to GLSEN, though the details are a bit hazy. Some queer and trans people, particularly youth, will find it affirming, and for that I’m genuinely glad.
Most of the Target Pride Collection is tacky, but that doesn’t necessarily negate its appeal or importance. However, if I ever want to spend more than $100 to look like I came to the club straight from a Ghostbusters audition, I will keep Target in mind. The most baffling product in the line is an eyesore called a “Liberation Jumpsuit.” Despite being described as “ballroom” attire, I can assure you that none of the legendary children would ever be caught dead in this getup. That, however, doesn’t change the fact that it makes no sense whatsoever.) The bears make sense, but why include chickens, groundhogs, wolves and rats? Furthermore, why is this shirt being modeled by an older man with daddy vibes, when obviously it will be favored by younger nonbinary people whose style is half Victorian gentleman and half Gonzo from the Muppets? (As one such person, I will admit that I love this shirt. Likewise, this animal print button-down raises questions. It’s virtue signaling as a fashion statement. Emblazoned with a slew of pronouns, this tee won’t help you share your pronouns with the world it will just tell everyone what you know what a pronoun is. Other products in the Pride Collection make less sense. Likewise, there are certainly members of our community that will snatch up rainbow-colored Mickey Mouse T-shirts, even if that does mortify me. Target is correct we will buy Pride-themed pet accessories, and I don’t think that we should be embarrassed by that. Some of these products are so well-tailored to our community, it’s enough to make a person believe in market research. That’s the only explanation I can offer for why Target seems to think that a rainbow-colored ice cream cone is this year’s must-have motif (get it on a button-down, a scented candle, or as a dog toy). However, seeing relatable faces in clothing I can’t imagine wearing is surprisingly unsettling.Įxamining the collection, I wonder if some queer Target designer carefully created a few products but then slowly started to wonder what exactly they could get away with. Likewise, obvious care went into hiring a diverse set of models. Target stands ready to sell us T-shirts and bandanas in the colors denoting a variety of LGBT identities, notably including asexuality. The Pride Collection is remarkable for its inclusiveness. That alone says plenty about the corporation’s latest attempt to sell rainbow-covered everything to queer and trans people. In my local Target, the Pride Collection products are right next to the Fourth of July paraphernalia.