Gender-fluid products are having a moment. From runways and retail racks to beauty aisles, products that blur traditional gender lines are everywhere. The movement is usually framed as a win for self-expression, versatility and, above all, inclusivity. But how inclusive is gender fluidity in practice, and who is it really working for?
New research supported by Columbia Business School's Bernstein Center for Leadership and Ethics and conducted by marketing professors Silvia Bellezza, of CBS, and Maren Hoff, of Harvard Business School, suggests that the movement contains hidden bias that is quietly reproducing old power dynamics. Their analysis found that gender-fluid trends consistently lean in one direction: toward traditionally masculine styles. What’s more, the people most enthusiastically adopting these “gender-fluid” styles aren’t men, but women and nonbinary consumers.
“When we ask people about gender-fluid products, they think there should be equal representation of male and female tastes,” Bellezza says. “And yet we find this systematic imbalance toward more masculine tastes.”
What "gender-fluid" actually means
For all the talk about gender fluidity, a clear definition of it is hard to come by. It’s also easy to confuse with similar concepts like gender-bending, androgyny and unisex. Hoff and Bellezza set out to provide a clear distinction.
After reviewing dozens of articles, brand descriptions, trend reports and cultural commentaries, the researchers determined that products can be marketed as gender-fluid only when people across genders start using them consistently over time. Think of items like pearl necklaces or nail polish, which have traditionally been coded female. Brands can market them as gender-fluid only after people across genders have challenged and stretched their original gender associations.
Gender-bending, in contrast, is more temporary, like a man wearing a dress designed explicitly for women. Meanwhile, androgynous styles combine masculine and feminine styles within a single look, while unisex products are designed to avoid gender signals altogether.
Analyzing baby names and clothing lines
To measure how gender-fluid trends have evolved in the real world, the researchers took a broad approach.
First, they looked at baby names in the United States going back more than a century. Using Social Security data, they tracked which names started as clearly male or female and later crossed gender lines in a lasting way. This allowed them to see not just whether gender fluidity was increasing, but which direction it was moving in.
Next, they turned to fashion. Using a dataset of roughly 200,000 clothing items, the researchers trained a computer vision model to classify products as menswear or womenswear based purely on visual cues. When the model got “confused,” that confusion became a signal. Items that didn’t clearly read as one gender or the other were more likely to reflect gender-fluid design. Then, the researchers could examine if those gender-fluid products featured traditionally masculine markers or traditionally feminine markers.
Across both names and clothing, the same pattern kept appearing. Traditionally male markers were far more likely to become gender-fluid than traditionally female ones. Parents were more likely to give daughters names that used to be considered exclusively male—such as Blake or Taylor—than vice versa, and women’s clothing was more likely to incorporate masculine elements than men’s clothing was to adopt feminine ones.
Reinforcing hierarchies
What’s driving this tendency? Bellezza points to two main reasons. “First is this heightened awareness of male advantages in society,” she says. “And the second is fear of negative evaluation.”
In other words, masculinity still carries more social power, so adopting masculine-coded styles can feel like moving up, while adopting feminine ones can feel risky. Men sometimes face harsh social penalties for crossing gender norms, the researchers argue, which can make even subtle departures feel dangerous.
This social pressure creates a tricky dynamic for brands. Labeling something “gender-fluid” doesn’t automatically make it balanced or inclusive. In practice, many gender-fluid launches quietly default to masculine aesthetics, while relying on women and nonbinary consumers to do the work of pushing boundaries.
The lesson, Bellezza says, isn’t that gender-fluid trends are misguided, it’s simply that they’re not neutral. Brands that genuinely want to challenge gender norms need to pay attention to whose styles are being elevated, who feels safe adopting them and who still faces social risk. Otherwise, even the most progressive-seeming collections can end up reinforcing the very hierarchies they claim to dismantle.
“I hope this research ultimately helps brands become aware of a fundamental bias in gender- fluid fashion,” Bellezza says. “Once they have that awareness, they can help push the industry toward greater equality.”
