Killing Eve ’s Villanelle Is the Queer Fashion Icon of My Twisted Lesbian Dreams
Whenever I sit down to watch Killing Eve, I accept that I’ll be spending most of the episode gay-gazing at Jodie Comer. Comer plays Villanelle, a deranged, obsessive queer assassin whose penchant for over-the-top fashion has become a subplot in its own right.
Growing up, I wasn’t super into fashion, but that’s partly because I never saw characters in television and film who were stylish and whom I could relate to. I didn’t identify with any of the female celebrities who were hailed as style icons in the late nineties and early aughts, and there simply weren’t any queer women on television whose closet I wanted to dive into. But through the years, as I came to accept myself as a lesbian, this started to change. Of course, there was The L Word, which was more of a lesbian fashion apocalypse than anything, but it still gave us characters like Bette (Jennifer Beals) and Helena (Rachel Shelley), who rocked the kind of dapper power suiting I began associating with “queer style.” Now, there’s Villanelle, who’s taken it to a whole new level on Killing Eve.
In season one, Villanelle dresses more high femme (we all remember her now infamous pink tutu look), spliced with some more androgynous, queer-presenting outfits. In the second season, Killing Eve raises the stakes, in every respect: Villanelle and Eve are somehow even more fixated on each other (with the former even referring to the latter as her “girlfriend”), the violence is more unique and depraved, and the fashion is more central to the assassin’s visibility as a queer woman.
The first two episodes pick up where season one left off, with Villanelle recovering from being stabbed by Eve. But by episode three, the blithe assassin is up to her old tricks, finding new and special ways to stalk and charm people, and wearing disguises that make my jaw drop every time she comes onscreen. There are two suits in particular that I can’t stop thinking about. The first has an all-black blazer and tailored pants, clad with a buttoned-up white dress shirt and black suspenders. It looks like something my closeted eighth-grade self dreamt up, as if my emo middle school girlfriend grew up and started murdering people for cash. (This is high praise, if that was unclear.) The second is a graphic, horse-printed Chloé blazer, shimmery gold trousers, and a ruffle-neck, purple Isabel Marant blouse.
Villanelle’s suiting is so openly gay, fashionable, and sexy. It’s a combination that feels natural and obvious to me, but it’s not something you see on television, really. It’s like the character’s wardrobe has been dreamt up and executed through the lesbian gaze—the Gayze, if you will.
And I am gayzing, constantly. I didn’t know I was capable of lusting this hard after a fictional character's clothes. Frankly, I’ve never seen a character like Villanelle in the pop culture I consume, so I just haven’t had the opportunity. It’s as if her wardrobe is the product of a queer fashion generator, with the specific intent of disrupting my gay life.
My favorite Villanelle look of the series, so far, is from episode four of season two: She wears a shoulder-padded raspberry blazer over a casual white T-shirt with a red lip graphic, matched with a floral flare pant. It’s maddening. It’s sick. I need it more than anything.
Charlotte Mitchell, the costume designer for Killing Eve season two, told EW that, for Villanelle, she was “inspired by an image of K.D. Lang. It’s an incredibly sexy, masculine style.” Luke Jennings, the author of the books that spawned the show, added: “Clothes reflect her status and independence. She doesn’t have to conform or please anyone’s gaze.”
When we talk about the male gaze, we look at the way female characters might be portrayed onscreen: objectified in skintight clothing, positioned in exploitative scenarios, never finding their own pleasure. Killing Eve does the direct opposite—the show makes its star sexy and desirable without showing an inch of skin.
When I think about what I—and many queer women—crave, it’s Villanelle’s power suits, button-ups, and tailored pants, in patterns that might feel questionable but are somehow still alluring. It’s both aspirational and extremely fun to look at. And that is sexy.
Jill Gutowitz is a writer and comedian living in Los Angeles.
