That’s what every coquette-adjacent brand is asking, at least.
Deer do not make much sound. Their most memorable features are their huge adorable eyes, fragile freckled bodies, and tendency to freeze in front of your car, usually on your way to something important. When Audrey Hepburn got a deer, it was a marker of her public, almost Disney Princess image, as well as an off-color pet choice. She became evermore whimsical. Deers are skittish. When a group of friends and I came across one, we patted ourselves on the back for being of such a pure joyous aura that the deer did run away as we approached.
Deers have appeared on printed clothing more and more frequently in the last five years. Like many other animals, they have a history of artistic significance, enough for our cultural scene to connect them to our sartorial identities. Deer are prey animals. They are, in our current culture, connected to fear and vulnerability — think Bambi. In European folklore, they are most commonly associated with the fairy world. In both Lakota and Hindu mythology, deers have a shape-shifting association. Some Lakota stories describe the deer turning into a young woman to test men’s honor. Leave The World Behind director Sam Esmail stated in an interview for Cosmopolitan that the deer in the film create an “ominous” energy that complicates their usual peaceful associations. In Princess Mononoke, the all-powerful spirit of the forest is a deer — a huge deer, in fact, with even larger antlers. A hugely successful implementation of the beauty, victimhood, and feminine association with deer is in Yellowjackets’ “Antler Queen.” The usage of the antlers and the deer motif suggests violence and cultish rituals, adding to the ominously feminine tone of the series. Most of the aesthetic deer photos found on Pinterest boards don't usually fall into this category — but these traditional associations are a part of the off-putting energy that has followed our human interpretations of deer as a cosmic, esoteric symbol.
Deer have been branded one of the mascots of the coquette label for years, now. There are 10,000 blurry images of baby deer with the caption “This is me who you are hurting” being sent to your DMs right now. Another 10,000 of them, a whole herd of deer are coming for you, and they are whispering a Radiohead song as they gently jump from subway stop to subway stop. Deer are forming into a symbol of your femininity. Deer have a soft, easily digestible mysticism which makes them perfect to print on a white cotton top. Independent designers Doll Garden and Moth Apparel seem to have the right idea. Many of their designs feature screen-printed images of animals and bugs. Moth Apparel favors placing the does on lacy underwear-made-outerwear, like in one piece where a photorealistic deer is placed on the side of a slip dress. Doll Garden emphasizes the off-putting aspects of the deer motif. An eyelet t-shirt bears a baby deer with two heads, which references “The Two-Headed Calf” by Laura Gilpin, a poem beloved in many Internet circles. The brand also prints antlers and the words doe and deer on shorts, socks, and tank tops. Fashion made in the name of the deer is not just reserved for recent Internet-based interest — it extends through history. Alexander McQueen’s 1996 ready-to-wear collection called Dante featured three deer-themed looks, with models walking down the runway in antlers. In 2006, he would expand on this during The Widows of Culloden. Look 47 from the famed collection has a huge headpiece — a lace veil covering deer antlers. This silhouette appears again in another McQueen look: Lana Del Rey’s antler-like branches, covered in a light brown veil for this year's Met Gala. The deer’s influence is wide-spanning; its lovable but unnerving reputation is constantly being developed.
It seems now that there is a connection drawn between the vulnerability and fear young women feel in the world with the plight of the deer. Victimhood and womanhood become one in the symbol of the baby doe. Depending on your particular strain of modern feminism, you may not like this meager symbol being created — but, really, the deer is a well of potential just nascently being dipped into. Creating symbols of femininity that revolve around common experience rather than biology, to me, is a step in the right direction of exploring and expanding the scope of aesthetics of womanhood. Is there a way to re-think the deer and create something that riffs on that girlish whimsical image, similarly to how Sandy Liang reclaimed the girlishness of bows? As the widespread love of the deer continues, we can only hope to see deer’s faces, deer print, and deer motifs appear in more women’s clothing. Maybe this will come with a slew of manifestos professing the deer as a forgotten symbol of feminism and womanhood, which is not as fearful, but rather transformative. 🌀
Mila Grgas is a writer, filmmaker, and New Yorker. Her work often covers feminist mythology.