The Origin Of #Gayface

 
 

In January 2018, riding high on the success of my first book, Why Drag?, I sat down to determine my next project. I knew I wanted to incorporate drag, but I aspired to go beyond it—to embrace the entire queer spectrum. The worlds of gender and sexual identity were rapidly evolving, both within the LGBTQIA+ community and beyond. While visibility and acceptance seemed to be increasing, the world was simultaneously becoming a more dangerous place for minorities. Governments around the globe were shifting further to the right, and many of the hard-won rights we had begun to enjoy were being stripped away, bit by bit.

I wanted to create a project that was visibly and unapologetically queer—one that radiated pride and defiance but always with humor and joy. After all, if there’s one thing we excel at, it’s finding laughter in the face of adversity.

That was my emotional starting point, but I also wanted to embrace the power of social media, which had become the dominant platform for visibility and engagement. I asked myself: What is the most social media-friendly shape? A square. Then I thought of a box—a white box—a blank canvas for individuals to create their own moments. The white box represented a form of equality, a common starting point from which each participant could build something unique, either freely or with my creative direction. I envisioned it as a series of theatrical mini-productions, not a retouched photography project but something real—where you could see the staples, the strings, and the raw creativity. Participants could write on the walls, pin things up, and transform the space however they imagined.

For the next three months, I worked in secrecy, photographing approximately 130 people—all sworn to confidentiality. None of them saw their finished images until May 4, 2018, at exactly 12 PM, when every single participant simultaneously released their portrait online. In an instant, #GAYFACE was born. The hashtag went viral, trending on Twitter—so much so that a movie studio publicist friend remarked that their company spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on campaigns to achieve the same level of attention.

That evening, I hosted a sold-out gallery pop-up exhibition featuring the images printed as canvas boxes, making the visuals feel three-dimensional—a box within a box. The images were always meant to be displayed in groups as well as individually. The groupings emphasized the power of unity and allowed for intentional curation—where the placement of one image beside another transformed the space and deepened the narrative.

That was just the beginning. Over the next two years, I continued expanding the project, photographing more people, developing new ideas, and bringing them to life. It was exhilarating, exhausting, and expensive. I built boxes in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and London. The process pushed me to my limits—I faced meltdowns, breakdowns, and even had to take a three-month hiatus due to exhaustion. Who would have thought a simple white box could be so demanding.