05: dear men, let 2021 be the year your thighs discover the sun with some short shorts

a vague history and enthusiastic endorsement of 5” inseams

Between the passing of soccer legend Maradona and the various postings acknowledging what would’ve been John F. Kennedy Jr.’s 60th birthday, there were a lot of images of short shorts and exposed thighs circulating the digisphere last week.

Reflective of the ongoing Sexual Revolution, the Women’s Movement, the Gay Rights Movement and the increased momentum of the Black Liberation Movement—most notably led by The Black Panther Party during the time—there was a lot of skin during the 1970s and early 80s. Both men and women were wearing skin-tight bell bottoms in lycra and denim, boots with tall platforms, slim-fit button up shirts with over-sized collars, medallions and shorts that (by modern standards) showed a lot of skin. Obviously these trends didn’t infiltrate conservative, traditional parts of the country, which resented the principles driving these movements. Nonetheless, during these years prevailing fashion nearly converged for men and womenswear—something very clearly reflected in Helmut Newton’s 1975 Vogue Paris shoot, which cemented Yves Saint Laurent’s Le Smoking as an important symbol for these years. In fact, considering men and women were picking from almost the exact same silhouettes, this period is still the closest we’ve gotten to truly unisex fashion in popular culture.

As a side note: it’s interesting to think about how each movement had its own sartorial code, it’s own “uniform,” allowing people to signal allegiance to the respective causes.

However, by the mid 1980s, between the wave of conservatism brought on by Reagan, new levels of prejudice ushered in by the HIV/AIDS epidemic and the rise of excessive peacocking on Wall Street—a reflection of a new culture brought on by the economic boom (obviously I’m talking about the “based on a true story” films The Wolf of Wall Street and The Big Short)—masculinity took on new form.

Ushered in by Armani’s take on the zoot suit, masculine aesthetics became unequivocal and rigid in the 80s. Though rivaled by an unprecedented level of gender-bending fashion and performances by artists such as Grace Jones, Annie Lenox, Prince, David Bowie, Boy George and Elton John, the end of the decade and start of the 90s revealed that gender-conforming (or perhaps -insisting) fashion had prevailed in popular fashion. The 1990s cemented fashion’s return to gender binaries with over-sized garments for men and hardly-there pieces for women. This held true across subcultures of the 90s from grunge to ravers, and in pop culture from what celebrities wore on red carpets to what soccer players wore on the pitch.

Once again, the silhouettes for men and women diverged almost completely.

And though this is hardly a complete historical account of when and how hemlines changed for men and women, tracing the various political, social and economic conditions of a time usually begins to reveal why fashion, the swinging pendulum, changed direction when it did.

Since then, with the exception of increased interest in Patagonia 5” baggies in recent years, the long shorts American men typically wear to gyms, beaches, bars and the park reveals how deeply rooted our buttoned-up, traditional culture is—to the point that short shorts have been deemed emasculating.

And how is it possible that wearing short shorts could be considered emasculating?

It is because Puritanism in American culture runs so deep that exposed thighs on men is somehow scandalous, revealing our prudish discomfort with even the slightest insinuation of sex?

Is it because of this country’s deep-seeded homophobia, wherein anything that isn’t aggressively and conspicuously masculine tends to put straight, cis men on the defensive about their sexuality?    

Is it because while men continue to sexualize women indiscriminately, perhaps they fear being sexualized themselves?

The paradox is that the men in these retro images exude a palpable swagger and confidence that aligns even more closely with American ideals of masculinity than what is currently being achieved with long board shorts and knee-length basketball shorts.

Harry Styles’ December Vogue cover, which featured images of him in a dress and a few kilts, revived conversations regarding we define menswear and masculinity. Though many of these conversations overlook Young Thug’s 2016 JEFFERY album cover of him in a tiered, periwinkle dress; the dress André 3000 wore for Outkast’s “Miss Jackson” single cover; Daniel Levy and Odell Beckham Jr. in Thom Browne kilts; so much of what Billy Porter and Marc Jacobs wear; Pharrell Williams’ and Tyler the Creator’s casual use of Chanel purses; and the dainty silk blouse under Timothée Chalamet’s Haider Ackerman suit for the 2019 Venice Film Festival, it is important that we assess (and do away with) the pointlessly limiting boundaries that have long defined masculinity and its sartorial display.

So, if you’re interested in feeling the breeze against your legs and taking the first step in challenging gender norms, consider making SS21 the season you bring your inseams up a few inches!

And with that, who’s ready to talk about Speedos?