McQueen Muse Wali Is Using Their Platform to Advocate for Decarceration

Modeling wasn’t always in store for Chicago-born Wali, who comes from a family of defense lawyers that tried and won cases for the Black Panthers in Southern Illinois, The Attica Brothers case, and many more. With that influential background, socio-political issues and activism have always been essential for Wali, so after being scouted as a teenager, they decided to pivot away from modeling to go to college and study sociology and gender studies. Through their education, Wali found a “sense of self” and re-entered the modeling world last year by debuting for Gabriela Hearst and going on to walk for Chloé, Balenciaga, Valentino, and even worked their way up to Models.com’s Top Breakouts F/W 22. Models.com spoke to the rising model about their path of exploring their gender identity, shooting with legends like Steven Meisel, and working full-time at the Illinois Prison Project, “a legal aid organization with an unrelenting mission to free people from prison.”

Where are you from, and how were you first scouted?
I’m from Evanston, Illinois – a suburb that borders Chicago’s Northside. It is, in many ways, a city of have’s and have not’s. Although rather diverse and “liberal,” it is incredibly racially segregated. I was scouted as a teenager and at 15, signed with a small agency in Chicago but bypassing an education for a modeling career felt like a long shot. Looking back, I was too young to cope with the pressures of the industry. I’m so grateful I went to college instead. I found my sense of self and queer community, and through my studies, also found my path. I didn’t think I’d revisit modeling, but my friend submitted me to agencies last summer. Then I thought, “Hey, New York is ridiculously expensive. Maybe I can supplement some of my rent money,” and things unfolded from there. I feel so happy to have re-entered what felt like a very intimidating world at the time. Improvements happened in the time I’ve been away, and at 24, I feel much more equipped to advocate for myself.

You were nominated for Models.com’s Top Newcomers for your breakout season. How did it feel to be back on the runway and walk for Valentino for the first time?
It was my first time in Paris and my first real fashion month – going to the castings, etc. It was quite a whirlwind of an experience. I have to say I’m still sort of surprised to have been welcomed with such open arms and to have gotten to do the caliber of shows I did. I feel incredibly honored to have received these opportunities, and I hope this doesn’t come off as self-deprecating, but — I’m not delusional; walking into castings surrounded by some of the most beautiful women, I know that’s not me. I’ve found that perhaps my strong sense of self can be an asset. I know who I am. I love fashion, but I don’t really feel like a model; it’s just something I’m doing right now. I think I’ve gotten the work I have because the industry, perhaps now more than ever, is seeking a deeper, more multifaceted narrative. Walking for Valentino was a beautiful experience. I hadn’t even been there to witness the long hours and late nights that went into putting on the show, but it was so evident how much time and care went into a show that emphasized the power and importance of love. The collaborative nature of the Valentino show was palpable – people from all different walks of life and sectors of the industry coming together to create something that they care so much for, and that care and love really translated into the energy of the show for me.

In addition to modeling, you also work at the Illinois Prison Project. What led you to decarceration work, and what is the project’s mission?
I have been afforded a colossal number of privileges simply by virtue of being born into them, and I’ve now likewise been accepted into this exclusive world of fashion with tangible proximity to what society tries to convince us is the pinnacle of success. I’d be remiss if I didn’t contribute to working against the violent systems causing the growing disparities and great social inequity we’re seeing today. I was also raised by two white, racial civil rights/criminal defense lawyers. My parents tried some of the country’s most controversial cases together, like the Black Panthers in southern Illinois, who had been attacked by the police and defended themselves by shooting back. They were acquitted of 47 counts of attempted murder. My mother has represented many people who have been shot, beaten, and framed by the police. My late godfather, Frank “Big Black” Smith, was my father’s best friend and a leader of the Attica Prison Rebellion which was a protest of prisoner conditions within the prison. I grew up learning to question everything, which is perhaps unique for a white, well-off kid from the suburbs.

For the past two years, I’ve worked as a program manager at the Illinois Prison Project, a legal aid organization with an unrelenting mission to free people from prison using creative legal strategies. IPP’s diverse team of lawyers, caseworkers, and formerly incarcerated thought leaders square up head-on with mass incarceration – a system that intentionally seeks to control, contain, and destabilize communities of color. IPP’s work has freed nearly 80 people from Illinois state prisons (and counting!), many of whom were serving life without parole. My work involves running two mass clemency campaigns – one for clients sentenced to life under Illinois’ egregious three strikes law, a statute which essentially strong-arms judges, providing them with no sentencing discretion, and a second campaign for elderly veterans who have been incarcerated for 20 years or more, many of whom have PTSD. This work is how I want to make an impact. I’ll never forget the feeling of picking up a client on the day of their release which has been in prison for decades and perhaps never thought they’d walk beyond prison walls again and watch their family embrace them for the first time. These are also incredibly humbling reminders that so many things that feel like a given, especially to those in fashion – a nutritious meal, a comfortable bed, being with family, even getting to use the bathroom privately – are luxuries to the millions of whom are incarcerated. Freedom is not always as grandiose or radical as the word connotes, and EVERYONE deserves freedom and redemption. IPP is committed to making this world safer and more equitable for all people, and I urge everyone to learn more about the work we do on www.Illinoisprisonproject.org and follow us on social media @ilprisonproject.

Walk us through your gender identity journey. How did you find acceptance in yourself?
My gender journey is ongoing, and I think that’s the case for many who identify as trans or gender fluid. Moving to New York and away from home was a big catalyst for me to dig deeper in terms of my own self-discovery and to interrogate some of the things I’d been questioning for years. For a long time, there was a fear that I’d be losing something by moving towards my truth. Although cis women are subjected to a slew of disadvantages under the patriarchy, my presentation as a white, thin, young woman had been a source of safety and, as a result, comfort to me throughout my life. But the real loss was denying myself the joy to exist and present as who I truly understand myself to be. I’m so lucky to be surrounded by loved ones who support me and to be in a community with other queer folks. My ongoing gender journey is an incredibly privileged one, so it feels imperative to acknowledge that trans women, particularly Black trans women and trans women of color, are being murdered, and right-wing legislation is aggressively targeting trans youth and their families.

You were recently cast for Alexander McQueen’s Pre-Fall 2022 Men’s Lookbook. What was it like working with Chloe Le Drezen and Alister Mackie for that shoot?
Shooting the men’s lookbook was a euphoric experience for me in terms of my gender identity. I was cast with a handful of other male models and another genderqueer model I’d met at the McQueen SS22 show. Shooting that lookbook made me feel seen in many of the ways I see myself: masculine leaning and androgynous; it was an affirming experience. Working with Chloe Le Drezen and Alister Mackie was great; I’ve enjoyed getting to learn by osmosis about the fashion process through such talented and driven people like them, and I’m grateful to the whole team on that project for their commitment to pushing away from the rigid and archaic gender binary.

You walked your first resort show for Balenciaga in May. How was that experience for you?
The Balenciaga show was truly incredible; it’s almost hard for me to categorize it as a fashion show. It felt like performance art. I really like Balenciaga and liked to look around to see a casting of folks that remind me of myself — a little rough around the edges, non-models, artists, interesting people. It’s spaces like these where I’ve felt the most seen and understood. And the casting was still highly specific despite the bondage masks. I interpreted the show itself to be a truly on-the-nose and perhaps even satirical critique of capitalism. Unintentionally (one would have to assume), but eerily, it took place in the New York Stock Exchange during a period of time when an economic crash looms over us. I like when fashion seeks to make a statement beyond its own bubble. Nowadays, that feels like a must, and I think Balenciaga is a leader in that sense.

You also worked with Steven Meisel for Alexander McQueen’s S/S 22 Campaign. How did it feel to work with such a legendary photographer?
Working with Meisel for the McQueen campaign was only my second time being in front of a camera. To be honest, I went into that day of shooting with a ‘fake it til you make it’ mentality. But the whole thing felt so chill; he had this way of making me feel comfortable. He keeps the set closed so there weren’t a bunch of people running around. The experience felt like a personal exchange between us, the models, and him. He doesn’t miss a thing; he knows when he’s got the shot, and that certainty from someone as legendary as he is, makes you feel sure too and like you’re supposed to be there. He’s also just someone who’s totally pushed the boundaries throughout his career to create strong narratives in his images. He’s got this incredible ability to talk about beauty and glamour on one end and then war and race and societal ills on the other. Shooting with him was an experience that I’ll never forget.

How can the industry be more inclusive toward non-binary people?
I think it’s important to see trans and genderqueer people in positions of authority in the industry. If the decision-makers have more expansive identities, that trickles down. At the bare minimum, people should be asking each other what pronouns they use, and ideally, those pronouns would be shared in some written form with all parties before people show up for a job. I find that trans and non-binary models are often positioned in this place of having to advocate for themselves, as we are technically self-employed, while simultaneously occupying a position with very little job security. I’ve had several trans models tell me they’ve avoided expressing something that made them feel uncomfortable because of this sort of precarious position models are placed in. I also think that while fashion is moving towards this more progressive place in terms of casting, visibility doesn’t necessarily mean inclusion. Trans folk aren’t just a hot new trend; If you’re going to hire us: see us, listen to us, and respect who we are.

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