‍This is the last in a series talking to queer fashion designers about their inspirations and the ways in which their relationship with queerness shapes their work; inspired by Aotearoa’s first Queer History Month. Read about creatives Angela Kong, Cecilia Kang and Bobby Campbell Luke here.

When you think of queer fashion in Aotearoa, James Dobson’s subversive label, Jimmy D, is among the first that comes to mind. As we mark the end of New Zealand’s first ever Queer History Month – Pūmahara Ia Te Wā, I’m curious about the history of this iconic brand. 

I meet James in his partner’s Wellington studio, a quiet space stacked with books but sparse in furniture. Perching on a bar stool beside the acclaimed designer, I am painfully aware of my outfit. What do you wear to interview a man with such discerning taste? Fortunately, James is quick to assure me that he’s not immune to fashion anxiety. Growing up in the Hutt Valley, his younger years were defined by trying to fit in with his peers at school.

“A lot of my early style memories are about mimicking and mirroring and assimilating,” he tells me. “I think it wasn't really til’ [I was] 16 or 17 that I tried to express myself more through clothing.”

From there, James says he started to experiment with style by op-shopping with friends at the weekend, fighting over “various kinds of 70s cardigans”. Still, he felt a deep-rooted insecurity when it came to wearing anything “flamboyant”.

“I think growing up I definitely had a little bit of internalised homophobia. I identified ‘queerness’ with ‘camp’, and that initially is something I felt like I needed to run away from.”

Now, as the face of an unapologetically camp fashion label, James finds a particular power in both claiming a queer identity and embracing queer design practices. With early inspirations like Rick Owens and Comme des Garçons, he is drawn to an experimental way of working which, as he quotes from Jack Halberstam’s book The Queer Art of Failure, “defies male heterosexual standards”.

Talking with James, it’s clear that defiance is a central theme in his life story. He speaks candidly about the self-denial that he shouldered in his teenage years, trying (and failing) to fancy his female date at the high school prom. As an undergrad, he resisted the gentle encouragement with which his new friends tried to help him process his stifled sexuality.

“My friends would be like, ‘You know, it's okay if you're gay. It’s fine. You can tell us’,” James recounts fondly.

“Then one night I ended up pashing some guy on the dance floor, and I was like, ‘Oh, okay! That makes sense now. It all checks out,’” he says, laughing.

Since then, queer pride and deviant behaviour have been defining features of James’s career. Google “Jimmy D” and the word “debauchery” is bound to crop up. It’s certainly a fulcrum for his new exhibition, created with curator Dr Chelsea Nichols at The Dowse museum in Lower Hutt. Here, we taste a very different flavour of defiance, one which celebrates the risqué and brings to life the qualities that make his label so unique.

The show brings together works by various sources of inspiration for James, including the artists Paul Johns, Claudia McKay and Richard Maloy. Walking through the gallery, I’m struck by an image from the ‘Living with AIDS’ series by New Zealand photographer Fiona Clark. Amongst the lust and levity, I ask James how he approached the darker side of queer history. 

“I wanted the show to work on so many different levels. There’s liberty and there's heaviness. There's debauchery, and then there's very quiet moments,” he reflects.

“It's very akin to how I design in terms of duality, and putting disparate things together, and trying to find newness out of that combination.”

In talking about duality, James is quick to celebrate the progress that’s been made by queer communities since those dark days of the AIDS pandemic, while recognising rising threats from contemporary political ideology. “In some ways, there's never been a better time to be able to express yourself,” he comments.

“There are so many celebrities and artists out there [who] are pushing the conversation of sexuality and gender with what they're wearing, which makes people maybe feel more comfortable to express themselves. But there's also intense privilege around that, and there's still a very strong anti-trans agenda out there. For some people, just leaving the house dressing in a way that they feel reflects themselves is dangerous.”

James is seeing this danger spillover into the digital realm through his work with Beauty Benders, an Instagram platform for “degendering make-up” which he runs with his friend Andre Sv.

“I still see on so many beauty accounts that when companies are promoting their products on non-binary or trans models – or just queer models – the backlash that's in the comments is really terrifying,” he says.

Clothing is a critical tool in challenging these threats and nurturing diversity. To James, this presents a unique opportunity for him as a fashion designer.

“I've just always thought my role is to create vehicles for people to express themselves. I want to create collections that everybody can see themselves reflected in, and see something in there that they can wear that makes them feel powerful and authentically themselves.”