Reveling In Fashion and Gender
A local free clothing SWAP opens space for genderfuckery.
By Sybil Mahone Illustrations by Heidi Nielson Photographs by hc
“I mean, libraries are the original swaps,” Reshmi Mehta pointed out.
We were walking around Foggy Bottom distributing flyers. Mehta is the founder of Revel In It, a D.C.-based community organization that hosts free and open clothing swaps, and the flyers advertised an upcoming swap at West End Library.
For this swap, Mehta put in some extra flyering and publicity effort. “This is the first swap I’ve done in another neighborhood,” she told me. The excitement in her voice was electric, but Mehta expressed some nervousness, too. She had never hosted a swap outside of the Parkview café Colony Club, and she knew many of those swappers lived in neighborhoods across town from Foggy Bottom. Would anyone show up?
Rain fell steadily as we hustled around the George Washington University campus, pinning rogue flyers to bulletin boards around cafés, dorms, and office buildings. Mehta shared her umbrella with me, and I felt her boldness as she hopped over a puddle toward a glass-walled building already covered with community event flyers. I’d heard that Mehta was prone to approaching eclectically-clad individuals at bars to deliver an event flyer, but now I witnessed her firsthand as she greeted and approached students to let them know about the upcoming swap, dropping in a comment about ethical fashion here or a “that top is so great” there.
Mehta hoped the risk of exploring a new location would pay off. Swapping in a library would ultimately allow swaps to be visible and accessible to bigger parts of the greater D.C. community. Even if people didn’t seek out the event, it would create the opportunity for library patrons to stumble into the swapping community by chance.
I became involved with Revel In It in 2017, in part because I was interested in free clothes and ethical fashion but also because Mehta was roommates with my partner. The two of them borrowed my car for the first swap as they scrambled to transport supplies and donated clothes. At that time, the swaps opened up a whole new world where I had access and permission to experiment with fashion and clothing. Suddenly I could try on as many different dresses or pants styles, tops, shoes or necklaces as I wanted.
Clothing swaps taught me that getting a whole new wardrobe didn’t require sacrificing quality for quantity, and that I could look as cute as fuck wearing clothes that reflect whatever gender presentation I want. It meant that I didn’t have to go scrounge the sales rack at the mall — and also that clothes that no longer fit my style could find a new home in the community, rather than end up in a landfill.
Mehta was first drawn to ethical fashion after learning about labor rights and globalization’s impact on the fashion industry in a college course. She was inspired to take action after learning about activists who stood by Nike workers, bringing attention to the company’s unethical living and working conditions.
Fast fashion is characterized by brands that participate in unethical labor practices in order to produce cheap, trendy clothing. The $5 shirts at Target may seem like a great deal — or even a convenient way to stock up your closet for the new season — but cheap prices are the result of unfair labor and environmentally destructive production practices.
Mehta realized the potential for larger swaps open to broader communities across D.C. after she attended a small one in a friend’s home. “This could be something for the community. Anybody could come in, instead of going to, like, Walmart or H&M and buying into that fast fashion cycle,” she says.
In 2017, Mehta hosted her first swap at Colony Club, where she previously hosted a zine release party for a friend. She created a Facebook event but also focused on spreading news through word of mouth, passing out flyers to people and businesses in the neighborhood. The crowd for that first swap packed into Colony Club’s cozy upstairs space, giving Mehta the first inclination that she would someday need to expand to larger venues.
Mehta founded her organization, Revel In It, shortly after that first swap as a way to start a brand that would one day host broader community education and services around ethical fashion, clothing care and circular economies. The swaps create a space for people to find clothing away from the wasteful — and highly gendered — racks of fast fashion stores such as Target or H&M.
Before finding communities that shared my knack for genderfuckery and clothing, I used to think I was the only person baffled by the strict binary that clothes were sorted into: all the skinny jeans, flowers, pink, and dresses in this section; all the loose pants, earth tones, boxy tops, and trucks in that section. In those environments, looking through clothes in a section that others didn’t expect you to be in was sure to garner reactions from side eyes to awkward, invasive questions from store employees.
Of course, gender has nothing to do with the clothing items themselves. Through Revel In It, Mehta makes a point to host swaps that are not only free and open to the community, but also not limited to specific genders. And unlike some swaps, participants aren’t required to contribute items of their own in order to peruse the clothing selection. Revel In It’s event descriptions always say “EVERYONE IS WELCOME.” Mehta plans to uphold that value in every way she can.
“I love the stories the clothes bring and inspire, both magical and mundane.”
The day of the West End Library swap, I arrived a few minutes before the scheduled start time as Mehta and a small crew of volunteers waited with the clothing racks and sorted bins outside of the community room. The equipment was familiar, a benefit of weathering several swaps filled with emergency trips for full-length mirrors or bags that could be used to collect donations or for swappers to carry off their findings.
A group of what looked to be George Washington University students finishing a weekend study sesh gathered their things inside. They had on cute, soft goth looks: black jeans, leather-ish jackets, Dr. Martens — tbh, my crowd and aesthetic on my witchier days — so I made sure to let them know about the swap as they passed by our staging zone.
We swept in and set up efficiently once the room emptied out. Mehta had her system down: Signs were printed, cut, and ready to be placed in sign holders on the tables; they would tell swappers where to find tops, bottoms, and one pieces, shoes and accessories. There were also corresponding bins swappers would sort clothes into as they arrived with contributions.
The West End community room was a significantly larger space than the Colony Club’s ping-pong room, where Revel In It’s swaps were previously held. Two full-length mirrors rested against the room’s long back wall, transforming its center into an impromptu modeling area where swappers received praise or suggestions from across the room as they tried on each new look.
Some Parkview swappers followed Revel In It to its newest venue, stopping by during Sunday afternoon errands or lingering for hours as they watched new batches of clothes arrive. The numerous new faces were just as open to the fashion experimentation I’ve come to expect at swaps.
As always, Revel In It’s West End swap didn’t sort clothing by gender — just by article type or shoes and accessories. Mehta says this was always part of her vision for the space: “You don’t have to go to H&M and have all these people stare at you because you look different. Like, fuck that.” As someone who has moved through many different gender presentations in the past few years, I appreciate that approach.
In addition to helping gendered fashion transgression become less uncomfortable, I find that this lack of barriers leads people to new fashion experiments. I love watching people pick up an article of clothing, examine it to figure out the “gender,” give up and decide to try it on or take it home anyway! Or seeing a femme pick up some “men’s” pants and release an expletive about how huge the pockets are.
I love the style combinations people try out. I love the stories the clothes bring and inspire, both magical and mundane: realizing that this shirt used to belong to my roommate or that I’m pretty sure this dress came from a one-night stand from last summer. I love being part of a community where such peripheral connections would one day help me disrupt fast fashion consumerism and normative gender expressions all at once! Part way through the swap, I actually forgot which clothes I’d arrived in and which of the clothes I was wearing had come from a nearby table.
By the end of the swap, I procured two of the most fabulous pairs of flower pants I’d ever laid eyes on, as well as a pair of brown dress shoes, a belt, some earrings and a few shirts that I wasn’t sure if I’d keep for myself or gift to friends.
Ultimately, Revel In It’s swap at West End achieved its goal of connecting different community members. “There were definitely a lot of new faces,” Mehta reflected after the swap as we packed up leftover clothes, which she personally donates or consigns.
Looking ahead, Mehta hopes to continue bringing Revel In It to libraries across the city. She’s planning to launch a zine with local artists about ethical labor and the harms of fast fashion. And she wants to expand Revel In It’s education efforts in hopes of spurring future fashion activism now that she has a community foundation.
Along the way, Revel In It is making D.C. a little more adventurous and fashionable, one swap at a time.
