GAYLETTER

GAYLETTER

Kingsley Gbadegesin is designing tops for the girls

Kingsley Gbadegesin with Ethan Reynolds (left) and Jalen Dominique (right) photographed in Brooklyn, New York, October 2020.

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

DD Smith and Jalen Dominique

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

Justin Fulton

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

Justin Fulton

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

Eddie Jarel Jonesx

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

Ethan Reynolds

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

Jalen Dominique

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

Justin Fulton and Jalen Dominique

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

DD Smith and Eddie Jarel Jonesx

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

Eddie Jarel Jonesx

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

DD Smith

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin with Justin Furlon, Ethan Reynolds, and Jalen Dominique.

 

Kingsley Gbadegesin is the creative force behind the fashion brand K.NGSLEY. The designer was born in Maryland but spent his childhood moving around, “from Maryland to Nigeria, back to Maryland, to Texas, Maryland again and finally to New York City. I’ve lived in New York City the longest, nine years now, and it feels like home.”

 

Kingsley is a self-taught designer who has always been interested in fashion. “I started young. I was very curious and always wanted to know how things worked. I remember teaching myself how to thread a sewing machine. High school was when I really started to take designing seriously: it was the best way to escape the world around me. It was my safe place.”

 

The first outfit he designed at Charles Herbert Flowers High School in Prince George’s County, Maryland was a ruffled purple organza mini dress with no lining — “in the name of fashion of course.” The seed for the brand came about a few years back while Kingsley was getting ready for a night out. “I was going through my closet and couldn’t find anything I wanted to wear, so I grabbed a tank, cut it up, styled it, and ran out the door. I did it so quickly and didn’t really think much about it, but people kept stopping me at the club, even strangers, asking where I got it. I should’ve known it was a gem the moment folks deep in a 3 a.m. spiral were living for it.”

 

Kingsley believes the higher purpose of his brand is to make space “for the Black femme queer community.” He tells us that his clothes are “made for the girls, by the girls.” He likens this to the famous acroynm (and fashion brand) FUBU (For Us By Us), but his version “makes it gay.” For him this saying “touches on the notion of us leading our own narrative, telling our own stories, and supporting each other the best way we can. I’m not the only one, there are designers taking up space and innovating, and serving the communities we’re a part of. But that’s the idea. We don’t need anyone else taking our ideas and selling them right back to us to turn a profit. No ma’am.”

 

When asked for one thing that most people don’t know about him, Kingsley shot back with a succucint reply: “No gag reflex.”

 

While he thinks that all clothing is inherently political, in his estimation it’s his mere existence that is a bigger political statement. “Whether I want them to be or not, my cuntfits, and brand, are already political statements, because to live as a Black queer femme person is to exist as our full selves, holding nothing back, in a world that was not built for us. When you walk down the street in K.NGSLEY, when you dress your body in ways that express all that you are, it’s a middle finger to the society that seeks to hold us down. Without words, it’s us saying, “We’re here Miss Thing, and we’re not going anywhere!”

 

This story was printed in GAYLETTER Issue 13, get a copy here.

 

 

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