Last Thursday at The Altman Building in Chelsea, Grindr staged what might be the most unexpected runway show of the year.
Aptly titled I Wool Survive, the show was a collaboration with designer Michael Schmidt and Rainbow Wool, a German nonprofit that rescues gay sheep. Yes, you read that correctly. One in twelve rams is in fact gay and, like all queer communities in this climate, they too need protecting. Sigh.
What unfolded was part woolen fantasy fever dream, part queer political statement — and, in a post-ironic-cool cultural climate, a rare moment of earnestness that just made you smile.
Schmidt, who has dressed icons like Lady Gaga and Beyoncé, showed 36 looks made entirely from the wool of rams who opt for ram-on-ram romance, animals that, according to Rainbow Wool founder Michael Stücke, are often cast off or slaughtered in the agricultural industry. Rainbow Wool rescues these animals, spins their wool into yarn, and now, through this collaboration with Grindr, turns that yarn into wearable queer iconography.
Styled by Alec Malin, with hair by Charlie Le Mindu and glam by Frankie Boyd, the show presented a parade of characters pulled from deep within the gay psyche -- leathermen, sailors, firefighters, jocks -- all rendered through Schmidt’s playful lens. There was nothing sheepish about the silhouettes, sorry I couldn’t let that one go by.From a knit hospital gown, a must for any playing-doctor fantasy, to a set of farmer’s overalls, no archetype was left unaccounted for.
What could’ve easily tipped into parody instead felt oddly sincere. There was something grounding about seeing the usual self-seriousness, pomp, and posture associated with a runway show give way to unfettered joy.
You laugh at the idea of gay sheep, I did too. Then you realize they just silenced every conservative think tank with a single bleat. “Hopefully, by illustrating that homosexuality exists throughout the animal kingdom, we can help put to bed the false and damaging notion that being gay is a choice,” Schmidt said.
Grindr positioned the event as an extension of its mission to foster queer connection beyond the app, a sentiment that could’ve veered into hollow brand-speak if the execution hadn’t felt so thoughtfully layered.
After the show, the crowd of downtown denizens made their way to the after-party at The Eagle, sponsored by Woodwork, Grindr’s ED telehealth service. No one seemed entirely sure what they had just witnessed, but most agreed it felt singular. And for a project rooted in queer empowerment, maybe that’s the most honest takeaway — something strange, sincere, and entirely its own.
Photography: Cobrasnake
