Cool has never been confined to one space or script; despite being misunderstood or commodified, Black presence remains a force of resilience, storytelling, and innovation that shapes global culture. That lineage sharpens movements like hip-hop and ballroom, where cool continues to expand and evolve not only through fashion, style, and presentation, but at the powerful intersection of music and movement.

Born in New York City as a response to racial exclusion, ballroom refined fashion’s language of silhouette, presence, and performance through categories like Runway and Best Dressed. Its precision and imagination have shaped fashion imagery and global culture, even when authorship goes uncredited.

Protecting this history requires intention, supporting archives, museums, curators, and cultural workers, and using digital tools to build and safeguard our own records.

Black aesthetics travel globally, but their roots remain in community. In conversations with Miss Lawrence, Atlanta Mother of the House of Balenciaga and Actor, and Yusef Williams, Overall Father of the House of Miyake-Mugler and celebrity hairstylist to icons like Rihanna and Naomi Campbell, ballroom emerges not as spectacle, but as leadership and legacy, shaping how fashion defines cool, beauty, and presence today.

How has your discipline in ballroom shaped the way you approach fashion?

Y.W.: Fashion came before ballroom for me, but once inside, I saw they run parallel. Both center innovation and storytelling. Ballroom demands full embodiment. You don’t just style a look, you become it. That discipline, that transformation with intention, has shaped pop culture and high fashion for decades. Ballroom has always been the blueprint.

In ballroom, how does style serve as both protection and identity on the floor?

M.L.: Since William Dorsey Swann, born into slavery in 1858 and later known as the first “Queen of Drag,” began organizing secret drag balls in the 1800s, dressing up has been defiance. On the floor, style is armor. It shields you from rejection and erasure. But it’s also autobiography. Every walk carries survival, ambition, and joy. Houses pass aesthetics down like lineage. You’re not just wearing a look. You’re wearing your truth.

In “Best Dressed,” what makes someone undeniable beyond the garment?

M.L.: The garment matters, but fabric alone never made a legend. Presence does. How you enter. How you hold the floor. In ballroom, you wear the clothes. If they’re wearing you, we see it. When your presence says, “I am that,” that’s culture.

Ballroom shaped what the world calls cool. Where is it credited, and where is it erased?

M.L.: Ballroom shaped fashion, language, and attitude. The influence is clear. The credit isn’t. “Clock that,” “read,” “chop,” “category is” all came from Black queer ballroom spaces and are now used without context. Some of it is ignorance. Much of it is extraction.

Y.W.: What gets erased is the source. Brands borrow the codes but don’t hire the creators. Watching ballroom isn’t living it. If you reference it, know its history and who built it. Ballroom was created for survival, not aesthetics. Protection means hiring the community, correcting mistakes, and giving credit.

How has ballroom generated global power?

Y.W.: Ballroom is often celebrated globally before it’s fully honored at home. Still, the influence speaks for itself. Many fashion leaders come from the community, even when that lineage isn’t always named. The culture continues to evolve and expand, with or without institutional validation.

As a House Mother, how do you pass down legacy through style beyond the floor?

M.L.: I teach my house to live how they prepare for a ball. Be intentional. Be prepared. Tailor your spirit like your look. Confidence with humility. Your walk doesn’t end on the runway. It follows you into every room. Legacy isn’t performance. It’s integrity in motion.