DykeMint Debuts Fall/Winter Collection at NYFW’s Pop Couture Show
There was once a time when suits and formal tailored pieces dominated the queer fashion scene. Now young designers are going to the opposite extreme: maximalism.
Enter DykeMint: a slow, sustainable, pop culture-inspired fashion brand by nonbinary lesbian designer Fi Black. Known for its chaotic maximalist collage aesthetic, DykeMint transforms thrifted and preloved materials into one-of-a-kind pieces that celebrate fandom and subculture. Hailing from Walla Walla, WA by way of Delaware, Fi’s journey began with cosplay and hand-sewn crafts, evolving into bold, size-inclusive streetwear. DykeMint debuted its 25-piece Fall/Winter collection—HAND ME DOWNLOADED: RECOVERED AUTOSAVES FROM A DIGITAL LANDFILL—at NYFW’s Pop Couture show in February 2025. Each garment is wearable art: never duplicated, always unboxable.
The collection includes garments emblazoned with cheeky, subversive text like “Have you seen my balls?” and “My tits are down here,” blending humor and critique in a way that reclaims tech language for queer self-expression. The aesthetics pull from chaotic collage culture, hacker femme energy, and ‘90s DIY zine scenes—bursting with bold color-blocking, deconstructed silhouettes, and intentionally clashing patterns that echo the fluidity and rebellion at the heart of queer fashion. A standout look features a model adorned with plush stuffed animals, turning comfort objects into wearable armor—an intimate, joyful defiance against a world that polices softness and queerness alike.
We chatted with Fi to learn more about the inspiration behind the collection and their design philosophy.
“I treat each garment like a composition, a puzzle, or a collaborator.”
1. What does your creative process look like, from inspiration to realization?
I treat each garment like a composition, a puzzle, or a collaborator. It’s about conversation, not just creation. My process is deeply relational—almost like the clothes tell me what they want to become and when. I work exclusively with thrifted and preloved garments, so each piece arrives with a history, a structure, a limitation. That limitation becomes the prompt. A hem, a print, a stain, a silhouette—it’s like being given a half-written poem and deciding how to finish it. I’ve had pieces sit untouched for years because I haven’t yet found an idea worthy of their potential. Without these constraints, I could just screenprint on new blank midweight tees all day—but where’s the fun in that?
“I’m pushing against a legacy that often imagines lesbians as either invisible or unfashionable.”
2. How does your line explore queer aesthetics?
DYKEMINT lives at the intersection of butch identity and radical queer joy. As a nonbinary butch designer, I’m pushing against a legacy that often imagines lesbians as either invisible or unfashionable—think flannel punchlines, the ponytail-under-a-snapback trope. Historically, fashion spaces center cis men as arbiters of taste, while butchness is either excluded or commodified through irony. My work resists that. It queers masculinity—reclaims it—by infusing it with color, texture, playfulness, and emotion. It’s masculinity unmoored from the male gaze. A visual language that says: butches contain multitudes and can be beautiful, messy, excessive, ornate, and cool.
“Historically, fashion spaces center cis men as arbiters of taste, while butchness is either excluded or commodified through irony.”
3. How long does it take to create each piece?
Anywhere from three hours to three years. Sometimes I’ll wake up with a vision, mock it up, and I’m hellbent on finishing it that day—even if it means driving 50 miles because the one store in Walla Walla ran out of black screenprinting ink. Other times, a piece will sit with me, half-finished, until the right inspiration arrives. Some pieces have that clear vision and others are about the process and experimentation also being treated with reverence.
4. What are some of the recurring themes in your work?
Humor is huge. I love when clothes make people laugh, or double-take, or stop and point something out to a friend. I think we underestimate the intelligence of play. Humor is my way of disarming the seriousness of fashion while still proving it can be art, can be luxury, can be archival. It’s that tension—between irony and sincerity, chaos and care—that makes DYKEMINT feel alive. Also: nostalgia, maximalism, collage, fandom, glitch, queer radical joy.
“I love when clothes make people laugh, or double-take, or stop and point something out to a friend.”
5. How long have you been designing?
I started sewing felt wallets at nine and got deep into cosplay in high school. Then I dropped it all—until the pandemic hit. I was a sculpture major trapped at home with no studio access and way too many ideas. That’s when I started making clothes. In a way, DYKEMINT is a form of soft sculpture or wearable art.
“In a way, DYKEMINT is a form of soft sculpture or wearable art.”
6. How do you explore your own identity through fashion?
I’m drawn to what’s undefined. I think queerness thrives in contradiction, in remix, in excess. I live somewhere between chunky sneakers, baggy pants, and many layered pattern collisions. My silhouettes are often masculine, but my use of color and texture queers them—makes them feel otherworldly. I love “aesthetics” (niche fashion communities and genres.) There’s a term for every coordination of vibe a fit brings like “fairy kei” or “coastal grandma”. There’s this same passion in the alt fashion world that I see in queer community: an urge to declare yourself through what you wear. My personal style and closet is an amalgamation of everything I visually enjoy — it’s layered, loud, and sometimes hard to explain—and so is gender. So is identity.
“I think queerness thrives in contradiction, in remix, in excess.”
PHOTO CREDITS
Riley West Photography
The Intertellar Studio
Ghost Girl Productions
