Maybe.

Whether @frankocean realizes it or not, his drag ball inspired birthday party was a major act of self acceptance, and an outright defiance of heteronormativity.

In a warmly lit room, filled with fine art, chandeliers, and Greek architecture, the ineffable Frank Ocean sauntered, strutted, and vogued in three outfits—all of them involving glitter. On his face he wore golden Gucci sunglasses in the shape of pineapples. Beneath the glasses? A face full of make-up.

The theme of the night was ‘Paris Is Burning’—a Jennie Livingston documentary following drag balls in 80s Harlem. Attendees packed on the shimmer, but what makes this even more noteworthy, is that many of the guests identified as men.

Mac Demarco, @illegalcivilization, Brad Pitt, Tyler, the Creator, Amine, and Luka Sabbat were just some of the guests who showed up in eyeliner and x-strapped jumpsuits to the “Legendary House of Ocean Ball”. This was a safe space. Outside the ballroom walls exists a world of soul destroying hyper-masculinity and homophobia—where trans women are murdered by the dozens, LGBTQ+ nightclubs are attacked, laws that allow gender neutral bathrooms are repealed, and shock therapy for LGBTQ+ youth is still an ongoing debate.

These truths are particularly prevalent in black communities, where black boys are usually disallowed to be vulnerable or carefree. When they are emotional they are told to “Man up”, when they wear tight or bright clothing they are told “That’s gay” (implying that gayness is something shameful), and understand the unspoken rule: “Don’t even think about showing affection to a friend of the same gender”.

Now, imagine being openly LGBTQ+ in these toxic, heteronormative, hyper-masculine, and homophobic communities. Children are ostracized, they commit suicide, they’re harassed in the streets and at school, and they get told that God is condemning them to hell from their family and priests.

These factors, amongst countless others, can make one feel alone and defeated, to say the least. Which is why when figures such as Prince or Frank Ocean, and images such as Young Thug in a dress come around, we treasure them. LGBTQ+ youth have the space to take a breath of fresh air. When a young, LGBTQ+, black person can scroll down their newsfeed and see Frank Ocean prancing around blissfully in iridescent pants with make-up on, a door opens for self acceptance and inspiration.

When there’s a room full of their favorite artists and actors wearing winged eyeliner and glittery highlighter, they begin to see that maybe, just maybe, the narrative of non binary people being unholy and set for damnation is false. Because it is. Maybe, just maybe, they can be gay and care free, trans and care free, bisexual and care free. So, on the night of October 28, 2017, when Frank Ocean twirled and posed and vogued, it was more than just a party. It was revolutionary. It was self love. Triumphant. And, it was protest.

J'ai faim, j'ai froid (Chantal Akerman, 1984)