The Real-Life Wardrobe of Quil Lemons, Who’s Feeling Inspired by 'The Boondocks'

There hasn’t been a moment when Quil Lemons wasn’t interested in making pictures. “Photography has always been like speaking,” he says. “It has helped me digest this mortal coil of what is going on here. My interest starts with art, and then photography became the vehicle for me to have something to say.”

If you’ve glanced at a fashion magazine in the last half-decade (including this one), you’ve probably seen Lemons’s images. In 2021, at the age of 23, the photographer and fine artist became the youngest person to shoot a Vanity Fair cover, and his work has been shown at the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the International Center of Photography, among others. One such show was his first solo exhibition in 2023 called “Quiladelphia”—a portmanteau of his name and his native city—which also serves as the namesake of his first photography book, out now through Idea Books.

Quiladelphia, the book, expands on the themes of that show: what it is to be Black, queer, and masculine, what it is to love another man, romantically and platonically; his native city’s grit and boundaries. It features a forward by writer Brontez Purnell, an essay by Lemons, and conversations with the artist Lyle Ashton Harris as well as singer-songwriter (and fellow Philly native) Santigold.

As a seasoned fashion photographer, Lemons is also deeply interested in clothing and personal style. Ahead of his upcoming book tour, I met with him in Brooklyn to chat about photographing stars like Ice Spice and Lindsey Vonn, his first pair of Margiela Replicas, and why he’s been “fucking with Buck Mason” lately.

GQ: How have you honed your photography into what it’s become—into a career, into something more than just a hobby or interest?

Quil Lemons: I studied journalism—I’m always asking who, what, where, why. That’s originally what it started off for me. How could I answer those questions through an image? Fashion has been really fun to play around with; fantasy and myth and what that means in relation to Blackness, what that means in relation to pop culture. How it’s evolved. Patience is something that I’m leaning more into these days. I’m not jumping to make as many images that don’t say as many things, like some of my contemporaries. I’m really interested in images that you can sit with for some time, like a painting. That’s how I look at my photography now.

Was there a photo that first sparked your interest?

Oh, yeah. Paul Strand shot this image of an African girl with books on her head. I just thought that said so much.

How do you bring out the best in a subject, and what do you look for in a subject?

To the point of journalism, I ask: Is this story important to tell now? I’m asking myself that a lot with putting out a book and I think it’s the right time. How I pick a subject… I feel like most times they find me. We’re in the same tribe of people. If humans were put into different pods by God, I think I would be in the pod with these people. We have a lot of fun.

There’s a shared sensibility to life and sometimes that’s queerness, sometimes that’s Blackness. Sometimes those are one and the same. Sometimes they fight. I like tension and friction because that’s where I [find] a real sense of humanity is. I like people that aren’t necessarily taking the easy route and that are trying to be subversive to whatever space they’re in. That’s why I say we are all in the same tribe of people.

What’s important to you on set?

Punctuality. It’s really important being on time. So, me and my crew come about two hours before the talent gets there just to make sure our setup is great. We also like to have a really strong sense of etiquette. I don’t want you to come onto a messy set. This is a workspace; let’s get you in and out. I don’t want to spend a bunch of time making an image because we have eight hours with you, so we need to be on it.

Fashion isn’t what it used to be. We don’t have two days to do a shoot. With some publications I am given a lot of time, but I would say that’s rare and it’s something I do try to push for, but there are realities. So, I just want to make sure it’s easy because there are a lot of distractions in not being prepared. Then I can’t really meet my subject in the best way.

Do you play music when you shoot?

Oh, for sure. I also ask my talent what they want to listen to because I need you to feel good. Most times we’re pretty aligned or they trust my taste.

What’s some stuff you’re listening to right now?

I was really into Loe Shimmy. Loe Shimmy’s BPM is really trance-like in a really fun way that conjures sexiness. I listen to a lot of PinkPantheress, listen to a lot of Syd. Syd was played a lot during my wedding; I remember those months I was listening to a lot of her project [Beard] before it came out. Charli [XCX], because Charli gets you into that cunty space. I listen to a lot of female rap, like Karrahbooo, Anycia. It’s a fun playlist.

Rihanna is always playing on set. Rihanna’s my favorite right before we shoot because everyone loves Anti. It’s a great set album because everyone knows exactly where they were [when it came out]. It’s a really good conversation starter. Everyone has a favorite song. So I really appreciate Rihanna for making my sets the most beautiful to start.

Do you have any memorable or interesting stories from any crazy shoots?

On [the podcast] Throwing Fits, they asked me how it was looking at Ice Spice’s badonkadonk. Ice Spice’s ass is so natural. It’s insane, the way it vibrates, and I think she would appreciate me for saying this. But I feel like a lot of people focus really heavily on her butt because we haven’t seen a natural ass in a long time. But also my favorite part about Ice Spice is that the face and the ass match each other, and it’s equally as beautiful.

Craziest thing I shot recently was Lindsay Vonn for Vanity Fair. Lindsey Vonn had just regained the ability to stand from a really crazy injury. I’m always in awe of strong women, but that was such a feat to see her be able to walk again after not knowing if she was going to be facing a double amputation. That’s what made that story really special to me—her resilience. I got to meet Miguel’s son this year and that was really sweet because Miguel meant a lot to me growing up. I loved his music. I just loved the visual of Miguel. He’s so handsome, and to meet his son was so sweet. I’m just thinking, like, We heard how you were created.

In 2023, you said, “I’ve become more radical, and so is the work. I have to keep dismantling what it means to be Black and queer.” In 2026, where do you stand with that statement?

We’re still dismantling it. It’s really fun now because I feel like I was saying shit in 2023, like, “Go vote.” And people were like, “What?” And I’m like, “Yeah, you should go out and vote because we’re going to start losing rights.” Our country has gotten even more radical. I did a group show called “American Faggot Party” in Provincetown the summer of ’24, right before the election, just because I was scared as to what Donald Trump’s administration was going to do to all spaces that supported Blackness and queerness. I’m never going to say I told you so, but I was definitely picking up on what was in the undercurrent. It’s fun to be in this space because I’ve been prepared and a lot of people go, “Oh, you’re so brave for saying something like that in 2023.” But I feel like people forget that bravery is a choice, and I choose to not be a pussy to conversations that are happening in front of my face. My art has become even more potent in that.

You have a new book, Quiladelphia. In your own words, why did you make this book and what is it exploring?

Quiladelphia explores what it means to be a Black man in America. I’ve grown an Obama-era optimism, so there is no ceiling. In the book you will get to see the multitudes of Blackness, masculinity, queerness and how they all intertwine and intermingle because they all exist within me. Quiladelphia is just a really fun play on the fact that I was born and raised in Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, and it was the title of my 2023 show. I think when people saw that show, they saw what my future in art looked like, and I don’t think they could have predicted what it was going to look like. I still think that that’s the question and why everyone’s interested right now.

Was there a moment when you first became interested in clothing and style? When did you realize that style could be transformative?

Inherently, clothing and Blackness go hand in hand when you have to code-switch to be socially viable in our country’s educational spaces and in our workforce. I grew up in a very blue-collar city, so I knew people that came home in a uniform and then they stepped right back out of the door in some fly shit. I’ve always taken that ideology into who I am as a person. I also grew up watching Pootie Tang, and Pootie Tang was so fantastic in presentation, but I feel like you have to be that to subvert stereotypes as a Black man and to be seen other than those stereotypes. That’s why I like getting dressed.

As you’ve grown as an artist, has your personal style also shifted? And if so, how?

Completely. I look back at certain eras. I feel like each era, you can see the things that I am challenging within the art. There [was] Glitterboy and then there was a post-Glitterboy, like, I’m going to challenge femininity. When I was doing Quiladelphia, it was really fun to engage with the language around sex work, leather, queer codes of dressing and communication. Now I am at a point where I’m just reflecting Quil and I’m really interested in showing what it is to truly be African American.

Can you remember your first significant purchase?

I was a Jordan kid. Jordans every Saturday. So, I was cool with paying $160. But when I was 16, I had a job at a Walgreens and I saved and bought a pair of Margiela Replica sneakers. That’s when I knew I was really in it.

Do you remember which colorway?

They were metallic, black and silver. I still own that decision. I was hesitant [to admit it], but I still do, because I think I could freak it.

I fucking love Margiela Replicas. I have a few pairs.

Same. They’re so classic. But also, I’ve heard from the kids on TikTok that they’re calling them an “unc shoe.” Or a “dad shoe.”

I’m old enough and “dad” enough at this point to just embrace it.

Same. It is what it is. That was my hesitation.

What’s your most recent purchase?

See, it’s really funny. I haven’t really bought clothes.

Stuff is sent to you, you mean?

People give me a lot of things! So, I’m really going to have to think about when I did, because I think that does say something.

It does. Especially when you’re getting a lot of gifts, when you make the choice to buy something...

I’m really into cashmere. I’ve been fucking with Buck Mason. I’ve been into the quality of the clothing there. I’m trying to think of what was the last thing that I actually bought. Probably my wedding ring by Bernard James.

What are some favorite brands of yours?

I love Margiela just because it’s always been really chic. In the past year, I’ve been loving Comme [des Garçons]. That’s my new shit. I’ve always been a fan of Commission. They make really good clothes. They kind of cut them to my body. When I find a brand, I end up in there every day and I’m so nosy. I want to know everything about it. So, we kind of become a pair in a way; Commission has been dressing me for a lot of my openings. Same thing with Simone Rocha, but Simone is a little bit more of when I am embracing and I’m feeling a little bit more feminine, but not, but just wanting to be fully embodied is when I feel like I want to wear Simone.

What role does style play in your work?

It’s so important, especially with communicating Black masculinity. It’s so specific. The person that I’ve been working closely with has been my husband [stylist Parker Harwood], because our language just never stops when it comes down to reference points. And in a lot of the new work, I am playing around the characters of Gangstalicious and Thugnificent from The Boondocks. They were so ripe to me, and it’s so funny looking back at their predictions for what has now become so true to what Black male aesthetic is. I’ve always been interested in luxury and communicating that, and those two things are really fun for me to toggle between—and by luxury, I mean there are certain brands that just naturally exude that, but also tailoring. One of the oldest forms of luxury is being able to buy a suit. It says something when a Black man is in a suit. So, going back and forth between these two archetypes that exist as parallel twins for Black men in our country are two things I’m dancing with.

I always think about the controversy we had when Obama wore a tan suit. That was the most scandalous thing we had in eight years.

It’s so funny. I’ve been re-watching a lot of his speeches lately. I made my own version of a commencement, a State of the Union address for the show that I did in Provincetown, and it was really fun to kind of declare it. I was referencing [the artist] Zoe Leonard who wrote, "I want a dyke for president,” so I was like, “I want a fag for president.”

Things would be a lot better than a lot of what we’ve had at all ever, obviously. You just need people with compassion.

We are in a desert of empathy.

It’s crazy that we voted in a criminal multiple times over a woman.

We? I don’t know if it was me. But I do think that that says a lot in terms of how we understand femininity.

We trust women to do so many super difficult things that men can’t do, but we’re going to draw the line at…

Running the country. We could go on.