When it comes to not caring about the male gaze with regard to style, we have no better contemporary role model than Julia Fox. For years, her bold statement-making wardrobe has heavily revolved around a singular principle—she dresses however she wants to, with absolutely no regard for how she is perceived by men on a scale of conventional attractiveness. It's a state of mind, and of one’s wardrobe, that many women including myself have found a wonderful sense of freedom in.

The whole concept of dressing for the female gaze as opposed to the male one started long before Fox, though. In essence, dressing for the female gaze means dressing in styles and garments that women in general will consider stylish—read avant-garde and often times eccentric—but will stereotypically have men scratching their heads. It was the, now oft controversial, Leandra Medine Cohen who started the publication turned sartorial category called “Man Repeller”, a satirical label for fashion, and those who wore it, that defied traditional male understandings of female style. In a summary of Cohen’s playful though slightly sardonic ethos, if a man didn’t like her outfit, she knew she was doing something right.

The more serious undertones of purposefully not dressing for the male gaze are complex and multifaceted. It has less to do with the individual male opinion and more to do with a macro-level cultural rejection of female objectification; a celebration of female agency void of gendered interference, and a plight in finding confidence and contentment in not being found stereotypically attractive. In short, we no longer have to run checks past male standards for validation of our looks, via our clothing.

But actually playing out this mindset isn’t as easy as we’d like—there’s been countless times in my years of curating my style and working in fashion that I’ve put an outfit I loved back on a store rack because I feared it would be displeasing to the male eye. I felt deeply, as many if not all women have felt, the insidious and controlling desire for male approval that permeates our society despite our calls to authentic style. The fashion industry is still, even today, heavily steeped in the conditions of the patriarchy, and it’s not an easy feat for a single individual to dismantle such a system on their own. But then, in walked Julia Fox, effortlessly sure of herself and unfailingly authentic, and everything changed.

Of course, there’s a very important place for shapeless silhouettes and masculine dressing in the female wardrobe—which Fox herself channels on many occasions—and it’s one that I myself happen to love and adore. Style icons over the years in this area include Kristen Stewart and Diane Keaton, who have championed garments like suits, slacks and ties for women everywhere—and I heartily thank them for it.

But the beauty of Julia Fox’s style, and something that altered our understanding of dressing for the female gaze up until that point, is that her sartorial principles don't preclude sensuality. If anything, Fox has a certain proclivity for NSFW outfits that seem to fly in the face of what we believed to be anti-male gaze fashion—oversized shirts and baggy jeans, and anything that didn’t hug the figure or show skin—and is actually a big fan of scant dressing. The difference? Fox dresses that way simply because she wants to, and her expression of sensuality has so clearly nothing to do with anyone but herself.

Garish Y2K themes, clashing prints and gravity-defying rule-bending garments are the backbone of Fox’s wardrobe, obscure yet ultimately inspiring for their boldness. By bypassing concerns of male appreciation, or anyone else’s for that matter, Fox has essentially tapped into the fundamentals of unapologetic personal style—an aesthetic choice that, just like not dressing for the male gaze, is really all about proudly wearing whatever you damn well please.

While the outlandish way in which Fox dresses for the girls might not be for everyone, the concept of actively rejecting cultural messages around the right and wrong ways for a female to dress, and an inward exploration of what clothes make you feel confident, applies to us all. So while I’m yet to waltz around in a bridal gown for the sake of it, or don a top made completely of business ties or wear nothing but bejewelled leather pads covering my breasts, I thank Julia Fox for making me feel confident that if I wanted to, I could. 

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