Dear Men, Don’t Waste Your Waistline

If you were to peer through my window most Saturday nights you’d see a young man holding onto his hip bones as he stares himself down in an ovular mirror. The hands are placed to measure whether my low-waisted jeans are sitting at the right angle which, in my opinion, should be either right on top of the hips or ever-so-slightly beneath them. My hands would then gravitate towards the hem of my mid-length polo, tugging it down so that only a mathematically precise stretch of skin is visible. Before cinched silhouettes and waist-baring styles became trendy in men’s fashion, that expanse of sacred earth in the valley between my shirt and pants was completely unexplored territory. 

If you were to put your ear against the thin windowpane you’d be able to hear FKA Twigs sing “Beautiful boys, I wish you knew how precious you are” through my bedroom speakers. Frankly, I feel I’ve come to “know” the beauty that a man can possess through these outfits that encourage an intimate dialogue with my body and my femininity. These clothes created space for my body to speak for itself, about how it didn’t want to be obscured by ill-fitting, oversized, straight-fit and other stereotypically masculine silhouettes. On the contrary, it wanted to be celebrated for its entire geography; the dips, the curves and the oddities. 

Twigs’ wish is based on the fact that patriarchy is built to deliberately discourage men from knowing, on a deeper level, what their bodies need. As she goes on to describe in the track off of 2025’s blockbuster record Eusexua, “Your mother’s, sister’s, lover’s heart is where there’s healing.” This highlights how essential knowledge for fostering self-esteem and personal growth—like dressing for the silhouette that makes you feel empowered—is usually framed as “girly.” 

Instead, patriarchal influences in our lives will push us to view our bodies as tools for achieving success. The pressure did create a thrilling language between my body and myself in the realm of sports. In ballet studios and ice rinks, I came to understand my body as a machine that could be trained to accomplish strenuous physical efforts. My body would join the chorus of whatever performance music played over the speakers as my muscles screamed in joy from the dopamine rush. However, once I’d leave those spaces, my body was an alien to me.

With only my patriarchal training to go by, I’d follow the formula I’d learned in sports: wearing costumes to fit the part. In high school, I collected what were advertised as “boy clothes” to play the part the world socialized me to. I’d purchase straight-fit jeans that shortened my frame when stacked on top of the pointy-toed Converse sneakers that over-elongated my feet. That would usually be paired with a stiff, oversized pocket-length flannel or hoodie that concealed parts of me I wasn’t so proud of.

My problem with the body-as-tool mindset boys are raised with is that neglecting my styling needs didn’t help my body—nor my style—grow stronger. Instead, they fostered a sharp inner critic in my brain. What I’m thankful for in today’s men’s fashion is how it responds to the body’s forms instead of trying to force them into regressive styles. 

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Balenciaga Spring 2025 / Photo via Launchmetrics/Spotlight

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I’ve taken particular inspiration from Balenciaga, Maison Margiela and Ann Demeulemeester’s Spring 2025 collections that feature low-ridden, oversized trousers that accentuate silhouette through negative space for an alternative to skinnier styles. An additional influence is from the resurgence of 2000’s inspired preppy-style, taking to short polos, lightweight dress shirts and baby tees that lengthen the torso and broaden the shoulders for a confident, sexy look.

In these outfits, my body sings for joy in a calmer way that’s more in tune with my unique idea of self-expression apart from toxic gender stereotypes.