Olivia Cheng of Dauphinette very clearly agonized over her designer statement. While it may have seemed perfectly charming, aesthetically pleasing, and commonplace, sitting at my assigned seat, the words on the page were anything but what one would expect from an artist whose sole purpose is to convey the years of work that went into it and why we should care. Here I was, sitting in a barstool seat at The Evelyn, toes hanging off the rung of the chair, and anxious about the flickering lights that maybe were meant to denote that the show would start soon, and Cheng is talking about SSRIs and being “Eeyore dressed in Piglet’s clothes.” Before a single design walked down the runway, I was sold. Her final statement, “I can’t help but be honest. It’s my decaying sense of girlish wit. It’s my animal instinct. It’s my human behavior.”
What followed was a collection of garments, covered in found objects, and arranged in organized chaos. It was loud, both visually and audibly; it was dramatic, from a black wide-brim hat that eclipsed the overhead lighting when it passed by to Vivian Wilson screaming bloody murder before she ran full speed down the runway. The models were covered in seashells and iridescent bugs and chainmail and lace with long, wavy hair or tousled braids. My impression: the Dauphinette wearer is on a mission to get somewhere and be someone, but her state of mind cannot be guaranteed. Wherever she goes, she will be best dressed, but no one knows what’s going on behind those eyes. Lose yourself in the details and all the shiny things, and don’t ask her too many questions.
Before the show, we caught up with Cheng to talk about a parallel journey she’s been on as Dauphinette’s trajectory has risen through the ranks in just eight short years. We also dove into her queer identity as it relates to her art, her instincts, and her decaying sense of girlish wit.
OC: I think that in any tense or divisive society like the one we’re in right now, it becomes increasingly important to be honest with yourself and to feel really solid in who you are. When society feels so isolating and difficult to rely upon, it becomes even more important to have a community, however small. I’m not really interested in corporate depictions of queerness — I understand why it’s appealing for companies to want to come off a certain inclusive way, but frankly, I cannot imagine how anybody looks to those companies and feels seen or validated by the way they depict something as simultaneously specific and diverse as sexuality. To be completely honest, I never used to see my personal identity as something that was relevant to my work and that I needed to share. However, as I’ve built this collection and simultaneously reflected upon my own position not only as a designer but as a person, I’ve increasingly found myself feeling drawn to opening up more because I don’t really know anybody else who has had a very similar “journey” or experience to me. Maybe there is someone else out there, and hearing my story can help them.
OC: I didn’t have a very traditional or thought-out “journey” to coming out or anything like that. I feel like queer media and culture often suggest that for all LGBTQ+ people, their queerness is a huge part of their outward identity and how they think about themselves on a daily basis. But to be honest, before I met my partner, I had never thought of myself as queer. I was already twenty-five when I met them and had literally never gone a day in my life thinking I would ever date women — then we met by chance through work, and once I realized I had feelings for them, I just went for it. Before that I had never even been focused on dating or relationships, and there have been times where I have felt like my sexuality or identity would be perceived as less “legitimate” because I don’t talk about it much and I seem quite straight and typically feminine. Ultimately, however, upon meeting my partner, I never second-guessed myself. I pursued the love I wanted. For those reasons, I feel confident in my identity and proud of myself. What this has allowed me to realize is that queerness, like literally anything else, comes in all shades. Being more or less “flamboyant” doesn’t make you less loving or less real.
OC: I definitely did not see any queer AAPI representation in entertainment or media. I still don’t see or hear much about it. I’m certainly far from a public figure myself, but maybe there are other people out there who will read and relate to my experiences. As a Chinese-American raised in the Midwest whose parents were both born in China in the 1950s, my queerness has definitely put a significant strain on my relationship with my parents. Before I realized I was queer I had a very consistent, positive relationship with both my parents, and after they learned that I was in a queer relationship they largely stopped speaking to me. Now, and I’m kind of nervous to expose them like this, I haven’t seen my parents in nearly two years. It’s obviously sad and disappointing as someone who feels like they’ve “done everything else right,” but at the same time, I understand they’re from an extremely different upbringing and culture than I am. Their reaction is not necessarily their fault, but it is their responsibility, and only time will tell how they choose to handle things. On my end, the door is always open. My parents know that I love them, but I’m not comfortable ignoring my identity in order to maintain a surface-level connection. I hope that eventually they can accept the full spectrum of who I am, even if it doesn’t completely align with the daughter they imagined for themselves.
OC: Although the experience of being a founder has obviously been a huge influence on my development, I’ve always thought of Dauphinette as a separate entity from myself. With that in mind, when I started my brand at 19, I definitely didn’t have queerness (or anything else really) on the brain when it came to picking a name. I liked Dauphinette because it was cheeky, a touch subversive, and felt aesthetically aligned with what I wanted for my brand. I’m really glad that the name Dauphinette has continued to feel so versatile throughout the years, and that it is able to be reflective of my own developing identity, and the brand’s identity, eight years later.
OC: I am very aware of the fact that nobody who meets me would automatically think, “she’s definitely gay” or “she’s so queer.” I think in business, where men and misogyny very much do still prevail, this has helped me a lot, and honestly, there is a lot of power to be felt there. I would never keep my identity a ‘secret,’ but there is a real sense of empowerment that comes with realizing, by brushing up against misogyny personified, that queerness is not a performance, it’s not something I need to use to my advantage or need to feel constantly disadvantaged by; I simply am who I am. I don’t need to look a certain way or speak a certain way to be real or validated in my sexuality. I don’t think “queer art” needs to look or sound a certain way — whether it’s loud and proud or quiet and profound, any art that exists despite itself is remarkable.
OC: As we began thinking about the collection as a show and not just as a rack of clothes, my team and I really wanted to consider how things like casting could not only bring the clothes to life, but actually contribute to our storytelling and showcase our values as people and as a brand. Vivian immediately came to mind, and we reached out to see if she was interested. And once we heard back, we just crossed our fingers and hoped we could sort everything out logistically. She’s absolutely going to be the next it-girl. She’s a light in the dark. I think she represents hope for a lot of people, and I am so excited to share this moment together.
OC: The fashion industry has hugely benefited from the beautiful minds and likenesses of the trans community. It’s our responsibility to support, help, and protect the people who have played such a huge role in shaping our industry. We may not be policymakers, but we can all be changemakers. Every single person can do something to make a room feel safer. For me, using my show (the most visible thing I can produce right now) to highlight trans women and their stories is my small way of saying, not only do I see you and support you, I will stand next to you with as much hope and gravitas as I can.
OC: I hope that queer advocacy can show up as naturally in my work as it would in my life. It’s hard for me to lay out a specific plan or statement, as queerness, for me, has never been about marketing or performance. My current partner literally walked into my office one day and changed my entire outlook on myself. As a designer, it’s impossible for that perspective not to show up in my work, and I think that form of advocacy is as natural as advocating for, well, myself.
