Before fashion houses caught on and long before glossy campaigns made gender fluidity a “trend,” trans people were already redefining what style looks like. Not on the catwalks, but in the shadows, in queer clubs, and behind the scenes of shows where credit was never given but was due. The truth is the fashion industry has always been dressed by trans influence. Fashion just doesn't want to say it out loud. 

Transgender and non-binary individuals have existed throughout history, much longer than most people realise. Around 5000 to 3000 B.C., the Gala, an ‘androgynous’ priest of the Sumerian goddess Inanna, adopted feminine names and spoke in a distinct dialect, embodying early gender fluidity. In the 4th century, Anastasia the Patrician left the capital of the Roman Empire and spent the rest of their life living as a monk, stepping into a traditionally masculine role. In 18th-century Siberia, the Itelmens recognised a “third gender” known as Koekchuch which described individuals assigned male at birth who lived as women.

Colonisation didn’t just reshape territories, it completely affected how gender was understood and expressed. Before European settlers arrived, many Indigenous cultures recognised and celebrated gender diversity. Trans and gender-fluid individuals were a massive part of their communities, often holding respected spiritual and leadership roles. However, the introduction of colonial, European gender norms sought to erase these identities.

Colonial powers created rigid, binary gender roles based on Christianity, deeming Indigenous gender fluidity unnatural. This led to the suppression of gender-diverse individuals, particularly the Two-Spirit people in Native American cultures, who embodied both masculine and feminine qualities. Today, many Indigenous groups are reclaiming their gender-diverse heritage. The resurgence of Two-Spirit identities is a vital step in decolonising gender, restoring cultural pride, and resisting the colonial forces that tried to silence these truths.

Fast forward to May 6th, 1933, the Nazis raided the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft (Institute of Sexology) in Berlin, burning over 20,000 books in the streets, among them were the works of Magnus Hirschfeld who was a gay Jewish pioneer who founded the institute. Decades ahead of his time, his clinic was one of the first in the world to offer gender-affirming surgeries and medical care to trans people. But of course, the Nazis put a violent stop to it. These histories aren’t niche, they’re just ignored. Trans identities aren’t new. What’s new is the systemic deletion and it’s time we called it what it is.

Exaggerated silhouettes, genderless tailoring, layered streetwear, camp beauty, sharp glam, soft masc—these didn’t fall from the mood board heavens. They came from trans and queer communities, from ballroom scenes in the 80s and 90s and club kids, from lived experiences that pushed fashion into the future. Paris is Burning, a documentary film about African American, Latino, gay and transgender communities in New York ballrooms highlights experiences from intersex icons such as Octavia St, Laurent. She spoke out publicly about substance use, sex work and HIV/AIDS. 

The history of fashion is never just about fabric, it’s about identity, rebellion, and visibility. Trans and non-binary people have always been here, shaping the codes of beauty and style long before the industry decided to take notes. 

From ancient priests to ballroom icons, from quiet legends to burnt books, this legacy has survived deletion again and again.

Fashion owes more than just inspiration to trans communities; it owes recognition and protection. Looking back isn’t just about honouring the past but it’s about making sure the future doesn’t repeat the silence. Because before the rail we were already threading the line between resistance and brilliance.