Cross-dressing is perhaps most simply described as the adoption (complete or otherwise) of clothing associated with a gender other than the one an individual identifies with or is assigned—oftentimes called the “opposite” gender in a binary system predicated upon the strict dichotomy of male/female or man/woman. This binary or dichotomy relies on the opposition of male and female, or on how these two roles are “dependent on the other” for their own definition and are “defined by not being the other” (Pilcher and Whelehan 2004, 24). In other words, the positions of “male” and “man” rely primarily on not being “female” or “woman.” Furthermore, this binary operates on the assumption that male and female (or masculine and feminine) are the only two options and that all gender expression must fit within one or the other position exclusively, with no overlap.

A basic understanding of cross-dressing seems to rely heavily on this strict gender binary, which is often thought to be emphasized and highlighted by individuals who cross-dress, as they are ultimately still choosing “one or the other” gender. Indeed, as Marjorie Garber states, “[t]hose who problematize the binary are those who have a great deal invested in it” (1992, 110). However, it is perhaps more helpful to focus on this problematization of the binary rather than the investment presented by the cross-dresser. After all, “[i]f transvestism offers a critique of binary sex and gender distinctions, it is not because it simply makes such distinctions reversible but because it denaturalizes, destabilizes, and defamiliarizes sex and gender signs” (ibid, 147). In other words, cross-dressing expresses gender in a way that actively transgresses the gender binary by disrupting its foundational principle of two genders existing exclusive of and in opposition to each other. To adopt, or perform, a gender identity that is not what one has been assigned by society is to make clear the innate unnaturalness, or performed nature of, gender identity (Butler 1990) and the gender binary in general. More generally, it shows how gender is something one does rather than necessarily or innately is (West and Zimmerman 1987).

Annamarie Jagose, interpreting Judith Butler’s perhaps best known work, Gender Trouble (1990), describes Butler’s interpretation of cross-dressing (specifically “drag”) not as “essentially subversive parody” but rather as offering “an effective cultural model for deconstructing those commonly held assumptions that privilege certain genders and sexualities by attributing ‘naturalness’ and ‘originality’ to them” (Jagose 1996, 86). Butler later points out that people cross-dressing, or in “drag[,] [. . .] make us not only question what is real, and what ‘must be,’” but further show how societal norms can be questioned, challenged, and even replaced, ultimately making us aware of the flexibility and ephemerality of norms to which we think we are “confined” (2004, 29). She emphasizes that drag makes apparent the societal assumptions about existence that “determine what kinds of bodies and sexualities will be considered real and true, and which kind will not,” and also that these assumptions can be altered (ibid., 214). Judith Halberstam makes a similar point, arguing that drag plays upon the very norms we associate with gender, exposing them in performance as already rehearsed and constructed (1998, 239). Charles Shepherdson refers to this capacity of cross-dressing as demonstrating “the malleability of the subject, [and] its ‘constructed’ character,” and states that it has “gone far toward illuminating the symbolic mobility of gender” (2000, 110).

However, it is important to take the performative nature of gender and gender roles with a proverbial grain of salt. Although the “sex” of the biological body and its assumed naturalness has been problematized almost as much as the idea of a natural gender binary (cf., Fausto-Sterling 2000; Butler 1993), second-wave feminism argued for a firm separation of the physical, bodily “sex” from the societal (and later performative) “gender” in the 1970s (Fausto-Sterling 2000, 3). Susan Stryker, however, problematizes the idea of gender being purely, willfully performative: “[t]o say that gender is a performative act is to say that it does not need a material referent to be meaningful, is directed at others in an attempt to communicate, is not subject to falsification or verification, and is accomplished by ‘doing’ something rather than ‘being’ something” (2006, 10). This is particularly pertinent with regards to transgender individuals, who are often censured for not “performing” their gender properly, demonstrating that gender identity itself cannot simply be dismissed as a meaningless referent that can be played with at will without consequence (cf., Butler 1993, 234). It is also important, however, to keep in mind Stryker’s denial of any sort of causal link between sex and gender: “[t]he biologically sexed body guarantees nothing; it is necessarily there, a ground for the act of speaking, but it has no deterministic relationship to performative gender” (2006, 10).

Despite ostensibly referring only to personal gendered proclivities, cross-dressing is often conflated with homosexuality, following a widespread trend of “conflation of gender with sexuality” (Lunsing and Maree 2004, 92). Garber, for instance, discusses the links between cross-dressing and homosexual culture (1992, 128–61). Most often, this conflation is applied to cross-dressing males—men who cross-dress as women or as feminine personas—based perhaps on the binary assumption that attraction to masculinity in others necessarily follows the adoption of femininity in the self. This may also be related to the overlap between “drag” or “drag queen” performance and (publicized) gay male culture. This overlap, however, does not claim cross-dressing as a prerogative of those identifying as homosexual alone, with many male cross-dressers identifying as heterosexual and, in many cases, serving in the masculine role of “husband” in what might otherwise be considered a nuclear family (Garber 1992; Newton [1972] 2006).

As may be apparent, cross-dressing is a world-wide phenomenon. It is particularly prevalent within theatrical and performing traditions and might arguably be thought of as a “norm” within these arenas—and by extension culture in general—rather than an “aberration” (Garber 1992, 39). In the Japanese context, the traditional theatrical form of kabuki boasts what are perhaps Japan’s most widely recognized and successful professional cross-dressers: the onnagata. While kabuki originally had nothing but female performers, a morality edict issued around 1629 banned them from the stage, forcing male actors to take on female roles (Bouchetoux 2014, 113; Morinaga 2002, 247). This limitation may not have been effective in regulating “morality,” as further edicts had to be passed in an attempt to diminish the desirability of the male actors, especially those playing women’s roles, and even these edicts did not put a halt to the prostitution connected to the performers (Leupp 1997, 129–30). The onnagata still has a home in contemporary kabuki performances, with actors known for their cross-gender roles praised and cherished for their accomplished femininity. Indeed, a successful onnagata performer is often heralded as more feminine than an “actual” woman (Mezur 2005, 5), to the point where it was the “female-likeness” performed by the onnagata that was the ideal to be emulated by women in early modern Japanese society (Robertson 1991, 106). Even geisha, widely considered the paragon of Japanese femininity, referenced the onnagata’s skillful performances of femininity to improve their own (Bullough and Bullough 1993, 242).

While the all-female Takarazuka revue (Robertson 1998) is likely the first example of contemporary Japanese cross-dressed performance that leaps to mind after kabuki, there is another genre that widely employs this gender-destabilizing performance. Visual Kei, an ostentatious and aesthetic-based rock music genre-cum-subculture born in the late 1980s and known for its flamboyant performances and predominantly female fans, employs a wide variety of nonhegemonic gender expression, including cross-dressing. Visual Kei performer Kaya, active within the subculture as a vocalist since the late 1990s both as a soloist (2006–present) and with numerous bands—Meties (as Hime, 1997–99), ISOLA (as Hime, 2000–2001), Schwartz Stein (formerly Rudolf Steiner, 2001–4, 2014–present), and Femme Fatale (2014–16), along with various temporary “session” groups—is a particularly noteworthy example of this type of performance.

Kaya identifies as a Visual Kei onnagata or regular practitioner of josō (“women’s dress”) performance^[1]—a type of cross-dressed performance that is particularly prevalent in the Japanese context (Mitsuhashi 2008). While identifying as a man,^[2] Kaya performs primarily in women’s clothing and maintains an overtly feminine persona—a persona which encompasses his language usage, mannerisms, and even the appearance of breasts which fill out his bustiers. Further cementing his “crossed” identity, he refers to himself wearing men’s clothing on stage as “dansō,” the binary opposite of josō: terminology that implies that one is dressing “against” or outside of one’s intrinsic gender identity. Kaya’s cross-dressed persona is not only performed individually, but it is both accepted and mutually reinforced by fellow performers within the Visual Kei world, where he is both widely known and respected.

Employing Richard Ekins’s (1996, 1997) “modes” of “male femaling,” it would be appropriate to say that Kaya employs “body femaling,” or the adjustment of his physical appearance (a more exact term than the “body” in Ekins’s terminology) to appear more “female,” and “gender femaling,” or the adoption of “behaviours, emotions and cognitions socio-culturally associated with being female” (Ekins 1996, 39). “Body femaling” is the most immediately apparent facet of the onnagata and josō performance, and it is not a coincidence that the term “josō” specifically refers to the adoption of feminine dress and thus necessarily focuses on the physical appearance of the individual. Kaya may be thought to take his bodily femaling to a level above typical josō performance, as he often has space within his costuming for breasts, frequently emphasized with shading on his chest to create the illusion of cleavage. He further endeavors to create a feminine figure for himself, often employing corsetry and other items of clothing that create the image of a narrow waist over curved, ample hips. Makeup and hair styling, a matter of course for any Visual Kei performer, are utilized to further his “body femaling,” with his makeup style being typically “feminine” and beautifying. What Kaya creates, essentially, is the perfectly “feminine” physical persona. His methods demonstrate how the performance of gender is heavily influenced by outward appearance, particularly the external, ultimately ornamental accoutrements of fashion and makeup, further emphasizing the tenuous position of any kind of “natural” gender identity.

Kaya’s onnagata persona is further amplified by his “gender femaling,” which he maintains both on stage and through promotional media. For example, although gendered language use in modern Japanese is no longer as strict as it was in the early 1900s, with many young women now using unisex or even masculine language in their daily lives (Okamoto 1995), Kaya specifically uses feminine-gendered Japanese (cf. Inoue 2006), such as the first-person pronoun atashi and the sentence-ending particle kashira.^[3] He also uses a generally polite register, which is typically linked with femininity outside of specifically formal contexts (Inoue 2006, 2). Kaya’s cross-dressed performance further demonstrates, particularly in a Japanese context, how language and speech patterns play significant roles in gender performance.

A major portion of Kaya’s cross-dressed performance is carried out via social media, where (like all contemporary Visual Kei performers) he promotes his music and interacts with a plethora of other artists, all while maintaining his feminine persona. This performance is maintained and supported through interaction: Other performers tend to treat Kaya, for all intents and purposes, as a woman. For example, performers use feminine markers when speaking about or to Kaya, and some even replace the typical honorifics (san the most common, with sama also appearing on occasion, used by those who feel particularly within Kaya’s thrall) with “hime(-sama),” or “princess,” turning what might otherwise be viewed as a nongendered address into something very specifically gendered as feminine.^[4]

It is important to keep in mind the appropriate, and perhaps more importantly the self-designated, terminology when dealing with performers such as Kaya. It is very tempting, for example, to apply the term “drag” or even “drag queen” to his performance based upon his theatricality and what might be viewed in some contexts as the over-the-top-ness that is often thought a hallmark of drag performance. However, there is a specific line drawn, at least within Kaya’s particular cultural niche, between what is and what is not drag. For example, he often refers to drag queens who are friends, clearly indicating that this term or category both exists and is known in Japan (and, more relevantly, to him). When referring to himself, however, or other performers within the Visual Kei world who, like him, perform (oftentimes exclusively) an explicitly feminine persona, he uses the terms onnagata and josō—suggesting a possible link back to the kabuki tradition discussed above rather than one to drag culture. Indeed, the “form” (or kata) of womanhood, or perhaps femininity, is what is being played by these performers, rather than an intrinsic feminine identity surfacing from within a “male” assigned body, and parody is not prominent.

Kaya’s use of the seemingly over-specified term onnagata is worth further investigation, as there is another way in which the persona he has created within the Visual Kei world resembles that of the kabuki actor. Kaya’s femininity, whether performed or intrinsic, is credited by fans and other performers alike as being feminine enough to be superior to, or worth imitation by “real women,” much like that of the onnagata. This femininity, of course, is a fluid and somewhat capricious identity, and this aspect of Kaya’s persona depends very heavily on what are ultimately (tenuous) sociocultural and hegemonic ideals of femininity, but within a modern, gender-binary-based society. Kaya, a self-identified man, being just as, if not more, feminine than “actual” women can certainly be considered a “destabilizing” of gendered norms, much as Garber (1992) suggests.

This destabilization is emphasized by fans who, much like the women imitating and being imitated by onnagata in the Tokugawa period (Morinaga 2002, 266), take Kaya’s femininity as not only valid but worthy of personal reference. For example, on November 14, 2015, during a “twitcast”—a live form of broadcast, similar to a radio show, that is accessible through the SNS platform Twitter—Kaya offered to continue a “beauty talk” he had begun earlier in the week on an online Visual Kei video program^[5] and invited listeners to ask him questions. Based on user names and profile pictures, it seemed as though exclusively women began to type out a multitude of beauty-related questions, to the point that Kaya was unable to answer them all. While Kaya would occasionally respond to a listener’s comment to recommend their suggestion or supplement his own answers, he was clearly acting as the authority figure for the session, with his (cross-dressed man’s) advice being what was desired by the (women) listeners, all of whom clearly respected his physical appearance (specifically his beauty regimen) as something worth imitating.

Whether or not Kaya’s cross-dressing actually extends very far into his personal (rather than persona’s) life is uncertain, but based on his references to his “private” life both on social media and in various performances, he is not what might be qualified as a typical, heteronormative “man” in any setting. For example, at an “in-store” event in Shinjuku on October 25, 2015, he spoke of a recent “private” episode involving shopping with a very “masculine” female friend: They ultimately found themselves drawn to opposite gendered ends of the Shibuya shopping district, with Kaya shopping in the famous, predominantly woman-oriented 109 shopping center and the friend gravitating toward 109 Men’s instead.^[6]

It is also important to note that Kaya performs, and further generally exists, at least in the capacity as his onnagata persona, in an environment where this cross-dressed persona is both accepted and encouraged. While he may be teased by other performers for being “manly” on occasion (@ao_sakurai, Twitter, August 13, 2015, 6:51 p.m.), his “crossed” identity is generally accepted without issue; his failure to “do gender appropriately” (West and Zimmerman 1987, 146) does not result in his censure. This generally holds true for all Visual Kei performers, even those who are not identified as onnagata but only perform josō occasionally. Indeed, non-onnagata ventures into the world of cross-dressing, even if only for a single performance, are often met with resounding cries of “cute,” “beautiful,” or “it suits you,” whether these ventures are on stage or broadcast on social media. The issue of “passing,” therefore, is something of a nonissue for the performer of josō in the Visual Kei world, as the audience and surrounding performers theoretically accept the performers “real” gender (presumably masculine), and yet have no problem with accepting his current “adopted” or “performed” gender (presumably feminine). While poorly performed cross-dressing may be mocked sometimes, it is generally the lack of effort rather than any sort of gendered disconnect that is the target of ridicule. This further demonstrates how cross-dressing problematizes the binary conception of gender, allowing for the coexistence of multiple, ostensibly conflicting gender identities within the same individual.

Visual Kei performer Kaya, as a contemporary onnagata, is a prime example of the gendered performance known as cross-dressing within the Japanese media environment, adopting and performing a perfectly feminine persona while personally identifying as a man. Whether or not he maintains this identity in his private life, it is manifest in the image he presents to fans, making cross-dressing the very cornerstone of his performance and an intrinsic aspect of the Visual Kei music subculture.

1. Based on extended observation, it appears that in the Visual Kei context, onnagata refers to performers who regularly, or even always, perform in a cross-dressed persona, such as Kaya, whereas josō refers to the act of cross-dressing itself and can be employed by any performer who employs cross-dressing on stage, even if it only happens once. For an examination of Kaya and onnagata/josō through a specifically queer lens, see Johnson (forthcoming). ↑
2. It is relevant to note his language here though, as Kaya uses “dansei,” which may be linked more with concepts of sex than gender, a differentiation that is often conflated in common Japanese usage. ↑
3. Notably, this language is now also associated with certain groups of gay men (Lunsing and Maree 2004, 95–97) and transgender television personalities as well as women. ↑
4. This type of extended gendered performance is typical of performers interacting with onnagata within Visual Kei, and it is not limited to Kaya. ↑
5. “Yame tōku #06 Kawaii danshi!?☆Onnagata myūjishan!” [Ya-me talk #06: Cute boys!? ☆Onnagata musicians!], http://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/1432567911. ↑
6. An event where fans who have purchased a CD at a certain Visual Kei record shop are able to sit down and watch the band in question perform, hold a talk-show-like session, or even play games at a scheduled time and date, often coinciding with a live tour following the CD’s release. Oftentimes the purchase of multiple versions of a CD allows additional levels of participation, such as a picture with the performers. ↑

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