Is Pejic the new Sporus? Drawing Parallels Between Andreja Pejić and Sporus

In ancient Rome, a boy who resembled the queen lost his manhood—an illegitimate child tag was placed on him, and he would need to please the emperor as a woman to save his life. Such is the story of Sporus, a cute slave boy who found himself at Nero’s disposal. When he did not meet the cross, he believed the gods had helped him, and soon enough, he found himself pampered—dressed in luxurious silks and jewels, his eyes lined with deep kohl, and his lips painted bright red and pursed.

This article delves into historical figures like Sporus, while drawing comparisons to modern-day icons such as Andreja Pejić. It explores how beauty, identity, and influence have long been interwoven, especially in the hands of powerful women throughout history. Queens and noblewomen of antiquity often shifted the balance of power through subtle, transformative influences over their companions, creating displays of submission and elegance that were as strategic as they were captivating.

Ancient doctors attempted various treatments for Sporus, a young man whom Nero had taken a particular interest in. The emperor’s affection led to significant public speculation and scrutiny about Sporus’s appearance and role in the imperial court. While he faced pressure from society, he was often surrounded by the intrigues of court life, including the presence of the Vestal Virgins, who were known for their solemnity and influence. Sporus navigated his complex identity amid the expectations placed upon him, and his attendants occasionally gathered to witness the ceremonies that marked his public presence. Despite the challenges, he continued to participate in the court’s activities, drawing both admiration and criticism from those around him.

The physicians employed various methods to treat Sporus, using instruments designed for delicate applications. They prepared an ointment from local herbs and the urine of pregnant animals, while the maids were instructed to bathe him in rose water while pouring out a drink—concocted from the urine of pregnant women. Thereafter, a blend of herbal remedies was applied, leading to noticeable changes in his appearance—accentuating his form and further complicating his identity within the imperial court.

 

Skilled attendants applied various oils and herbal mixtures to Sporus’s body, aiming to soften his skin and enhance his appearance. Once adequately prepared, he was fitted with a supportive garment that shaped his figure according to the preferences of those around him. A device was then used to create gentle suction, further accentuating his form. He was required to wear this garment for several months, and while the treatment was designed to refine his appearance, he found it difficult to mask his reactions, his cheeks flushing in response to the amused spectators observing the process.

They removed his subligaculum and replaced it with a device designed to make him impotent— leaving it in place for several days. His sore pubic regions were tenderly treated with the honey subligaculum, a device enriched with a blend of healing herbs and soothing ointments, all while being filled with silkworms to promote healing and comfort. 

 

He was rendered ultra-sensitive, forced to walk with dainty steps, feeling like a new person as his swollen buttocks swayed from side to side. His breasts bounced gently, causing sharp pangs of pain; yet, when the discomfort faded, he still sensed the rhythm of their movement, and it filled him with an unexpected pleasure.”. He could feel the softness of his stola more than ever before, the delicate fabric cascading around him, accentuating the gentle sway of his newly feminized form.

The maidens, vestal virgins, and the audience who had sneaked in were utterly captivated by his transformation, their eyes gleaming with both awe and amusement. They turned to one another, whispering and gossiping, erupting into fits of rib-tickling laughter that echoed through the room, leaving him feeling embarrassed and exposed.” They made him practice his walk, and while they could see the pain etched on his face, they also noticed the flicker of delight when the discomfort subsided, a delight stemming from the weight of his fuller breasts, and heavier buttocks, sensations that felt entirely new to him. This only fueled their gossip, igniting more smiles and crackling laughter that filled the room.

One day, he went to the baths during women’s hours, wearing a silken stola and a veil. There he met Statilia Messalina, a woman of great beauty and virtue. She was contemplating how to escape being Nero’s wife, as the emperor despised her husband and wished to dispose of him. Aware that her own life was in danger, she sought a way out.

When she encountered Sporus, dressed en femme, she shared her troubles with him. “Well, it’s true he needs an empress, and really, you won’t do,” she said, inadvertently dismissing Sporus from her considerations. “He is not so insane as to think that your lowly birth and slavish origins qualify you to be anything but a toy. Not to mention, you have a penis well, you know.”

Sporus responded, “Exactly.” Suddenly, her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her regarding what would become of Sporus’ manhood—castration. The thought filled her with delight; after all, emasculation was both entertaining and uplifting for most women. A smile swept across her face as she envisioned his fate, seeing him in a new light. Her newfound understanding sparked a sense of empowerment, revealing a potential escape route for herself.

Pulling Sporus down to sit beside her, she asked, “You’ve had him, haven’t you?”

Sporus was baffled and unsure how she knew. “Just once,” he replied. “Why that effeminate, ignoble, pathetic little cinadeus” She laughed, and the expression on her face disclosed Sporus’s future, prompting him to cry. “Romans do not cry,” she said, “but you are neither a Roman nor a man.”

Her face lit up again as she devised a plan to get her husband, Julius Lucius, off of Nero’s bad books. Lucius had made the mistake of thinking Nero was a corward, Nero was looking for a chance to sentence him so he stayed away from the emperors court for more than a year. Julius would have to endure, swallow his dignity, and play the goddess Aphrodite in the next upcoming poetry recitation. His transformation would be astounding—not just a performance, but a complete metamorphosis.

In a striking parallel, on New Year’s Eve 2007, a charming young man working at McDonald’s found himself on the brink of a transformative moment. With a striking resemblance to top model Jessica Hart, he caught the attention of Oyster, an Australian fashion magazine, which launched him into the world of men’s wear modeling. Soon, he was being cast by renowned designers such as Paul Smith, John Galliano, Raf Simons, and Jean Paul Gaultier.

But why confine him to men’s wear when he bore such a remarkable likeness to Jessica Hart? One visionary designer saw the potential and took a bold chance. Jean Paul Gaultier cast Andrej Pejic not only in his men’s wear show and ad campaign but also in his haute couture show, where he closed the show as the mariée—the bride. This groundbreaking decision made headlines and catapulted Pejic into the spotlight. According to Stephan Moskovic, founder and editor of Models.com, Pejic soared to No. 11 on the site’s list of top male models, earning the highest number of Facebook “likes” of any model, male or female.

As his fame surged, Pejic caught the eye of women’s brands, transforming his career into a lucrative lifestyle. By 2011, New York Magazine had crowned him “The Prettiest Boy in the World.”

In a bold move, Dutch designer HEMA sought to showcase its new push-up bra, designed to flatter even fuller figures. “The curves were not achieved with any tricks,” explained Judy Op Het Veld, HEMA’s corporate communications manager. In Amsterdam, many didn’t even realize that the model in the bra wasn’t female—his name, Andrej, often flew under the radar. Those who were aware, as noted by Grazia Fashion, found humor in the boy-in-bra advertisements.

“Sometimes I think we take things too seriously here in North America,” remarked Vasilia Panagakos, owner of Toronto’s Avec Plaisir lingerie boutiques, to the Toronto Star. “European women seem to have a sense of humor about their bodies; I think they’d chuckle at this. In North America, a campaign like that might need more explanation, and then the joke would be lost.”

Slate speculated that HEMA’s campaign was a blend of humor and subversive advertising, challenging the typical, provocative images of semi-naked women we’ve become desensitized to. “Perhaps I’m giving HEMA too much credit, but it seems like they’re deliberately playing with that male audience, taunting potential oglers: Ogle this, but don’t get mad when you realize exactly who you’re lusting after,” wrote Slate’s Julia Felsenthal.

Would a man in a bra persuade you to enhance your cleavage with HEMA?

However, competition grew fierce, particularly from transgender models like Tula, Teri Toye, and Lea T. Pejic felt the pressure to keep up and was vocal about his aspiration to be the most coveted model, with the ultimate prize being a Victoria’s Secret deal. In a bold statement to a reporter, Pejic declared he would “fully embrace femininity through surgery, including sporting a vajayjay” for a chance to land a Victoria’s Secret campaign.

Andrej in a transparent metallic frock

Andrej was a captivating boy who escaped death during the Bosnian War, a period marked by the horrific victimization of young boys, eventually finding refuge in Australia. Similarly, Sporus was a slave transported to Rome, enduring brutal victimization during the journey until he was saved by Livia, a compassionate woman who later became a dear friend and a pivotal figure in his life.

However, while Andreja hoped her bold approach would cement a place among the top T-models and secure a Victoria’s Secret contract, the brand ultimately snubbed her. In 2018, Victoria’s Secret came under fire after Ed Razek, the brand’s marketing chief, rejected the idea of featuring transgender and plus-size models, dismissing them as unsuitable for the show’s “fantasy.” His comments sparked widespread criticism for being outdated and exclusionary, possibly contributing to the brand’s decision to overlook models like Pejić during that period, despite her growing fame.

 

 

 

Embracing Cuteness and Identity

After Sporus was forced to live as a woman, his manhood diminished by the concoctions meant to enhance his feminine form, he felt the weight of humiliation.”Everyone laughed breaking the pall, I was embarrassed , I could feel my cheeks reddening. My trip to the palace could have only two outcomes, the other one being me nailed to the cross.”

“…And if the price of survival was a sore anus?”

“I need to think quickly my mind was in chaos, still trying to make sense of my grief at losing everything…”

 

Trophy of Seduction: The Queen’s Game at the Festival of Venus

Skip this historical account

It was not uncommon for queens and affluent women to use seduction as a strategic weapon, luring lovers into traps that solidified their dominance. These queens reveled in the act of being ‘caught’ with their lovers—   fully aware that this would lead to their lovers’ imprisonment and eventual execution. However, this danger only paved the way for their ultimate victory, as it allowed them to claim a new prize—a boastful trophy of conquest and control.   Just before their scheduled death these lovers were seduced not into escape, but into transformation. Queens would skillfully manipulate their sentenced lovers, offering them a twisted salvation: to live not as men but as loyal maids and symbols of their dominance. Like prized trophies, these former paramours, had to of their own choice choose emasculation, humiliation and to live the rest of their life not only as a woman but as a maid, serving the queen not only in their courts but in their grand display of power. Each lover turned maid was a testament to the queen’s mastery over both love and fate—a living reminder of her unrivaled influence over life, death, and identity.   Once the lover was castrated and feminized, the queen took particular pleasure in placing him among her other maids just to humiliate him. Lined up alongside them, his presence was a symbol of the queen’s dominance especiaclly when he and other maids had to serve her other lovers. The other maids, aware of his humiliation, played their part in reinforcing his submission, exerting their dominance until he was reduced to the lowest rung among them. He was made to do all the most demeaning “girly” tasks—cleaning their chambers, fetching their jewelry, dressing them, and even applying their makeup. They giggled as he fumbled with the delicate fabrics of their gowns and punished him for his awkwardness in braiding their hair, always reminding him of his place beneath them.  

The queen reveled in his degradation, watching as he dutifully performed these menial chores, knowing his spirit was broken.. The queen delighted in these moments, watching as the former lover—now a broken maid—was teased and ridiculed, a stark contrast to the feminine grace surrounding him. The more he was humbled, the more power she wielded, using him as both a trophy and a reminder of her control.     Each day, the maids would rebuke him about his attire—they’d just not e satisfied untill he was dressed in the most feminine attire only then they’d allow him to present himself before the queen. They forced him to change over and over, criticizing each outfit with sharp remarks, their laughter growing louder as his humiliation deepened with every rejection. Thus, he was disciplined into servitude. When he was finally dressed in flowing silks, adorned with jewelry and makeup, they granted him permission to approach the queen.  The queen, ever the actress, would feign surprise when she saw him. “Oh, I had no idea…you certainly seem to have a flair for feminine attire!” Aren’t you a bit overdressed? Were you doing this even before we met? she’d exclaim with exaggerated shock, her tone laced with mockery. “My, my, The shoe is on the other foot now! Were you ever a man? As she surveyed him with a playful glint in her eyes, one of the maids leaned in and asked teasingly, “Were you ever a man?” The question hung in the air, laced with curiosity. The queen, feigning innocence, added, “But tell me, is there a man of interest? Perhaps we should explore the art of pleasing such a gentleman.” With a mischievous smile, she turned to her maids, instructing them, “Gather your knowledge; I want lessons on how to captivate a man’s heart. After all, we must ensure our little servant is well-prepared for any future guests of honour!” What a twist of fate” Though her words were light, they struck hard, driving home the message to everyone—especially him. “The first mistake was loving you as a man. Now I see you were never one to begin with. If you want to seduce other men, do it on your own time—but don’t you dare be late again.” Her cutting remarks made it clear—he was no longer anything more than a pawn, now reduced to the lowest rank of servitude in her game

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0_bHeOeGXM&t=4s

 

In due course, the maids grew more mischievous, often delighting in whispers of heresay, they determined the feminized slave’s former lovers. . They took pleasure in subtle hints to the queen about this list. The queen, ever the cunning orchestrator, made it a point to invite the list for ‘the feast of Venus’ a festivale which was lavish attended by women only, inviting these same women—those who had once shared his bed. They arrived, unwitting of the spectacle they were about to witness.   The feminized slave, oblivious to the queen’s scheme, soon found himself serving wine and delicacies to the very women who had once been his lovers. The shock was unmistakable as they recognized him, their scornful eyes cutting through him, fully aware of the humiliation he endured. Their mouths hung open in stunned silence, eyes gleaming with amusement as they absorbed the scene. And then, unable to contain themselves, they gasped in disbelief, lowering their heads for a moment before laughter erupted. The reactions were varied—Some were in denial, believing it was merely a festival disguise or theatrical jest, while most fell into hysterical fits of laughter, relishing his fall from grace. The latter group, their curiosity piqued, wanted every detail—they whispered among themselves, eager to know more about his transformation, probing for stories of how he had been brought to this point, delighting in the scandalous spectacle.   The feminized slave trembled under the weight of their gazes, his breath shallow as his eyes darted between familiar faces. A cold sweat broke out on his brow as his former lovers, once intimate, now stared in shock and disbelief. His lips quivered in silent apology as he fumbled with the wine tray, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Laughter from some women rang in his ears, sharp and mocking, while others whispered, their eyes gleaming with cruel curiosity. His cheeks burned with shame, his heart pounding as if it might burst, and his chest tightened. His discomfort was palpable as he shifted awkwardly—the Fascia pectoralis, tightly bound around his chest like an ancient bra, constricted his breathing, while the Strophium pressed uncomfortably against his hips. His undergarments, foreign and restrictive, made every movement a struggle.

 

A sharp noise from the queen signaled that his stola, the emblem of female virtue, was askew. Obediently, he adjusted it, eliciting blushing looks from his former lovers at his submission. Meanwhile, the queen basked in the honor of his compliance as he nervously fidgeted with the heavy fabric. In a desperate attempt to hide his shame, he pulled the edge of his Palla down to cover his face, which only evoked euphoric laughter from the audience. His cheeks flushed with deeper humiliation as he scanned the room for a familiar face, but all he found were mocking stares and smirks. He realized then that he had become the single object of their entertainment—a spectacle for their amusement, with the suffocating realization that his submission was now complete.   The queen and her maids relished every moment of the unfolding scene, their laughter barely concealed as the former suitor, now a mere servant, stood disgraced. She urged him, “Girl, attend to the other guests,”. He immediately and obediently as he poured wine with trembling hands. Each guest took her time to absorb his expressions, adorned in the garb of a lowly maid. His eyes lowered, he dared not meet their gaze, knowing they all enjoyed his humiliation. But the queen’s cruelty did not end there, perceptive to their unspoken thoughts of the forme lovers of the maid, sought to address their curiosity.As the celebration progressed, she extended the gathering into the private baths, where the women were obliged to disobe and recline in the warm waters, their conversations buzzing around the gossip. The air was thick with anticipation as the queen, with a sly smile, commanded the feminized slave to as well strip and reveal himself before the assembly of women, each of whom had been wronged or abandoned by him in the past. The uproar that followed was deafening—the women, drunk on both wine and revenge, burst into peals of laughter, mocking his delicate form, his smooth skin, and the unmistakable femininity that now defined him. The other maids urged him to join them in mineal chores, well aware of his plight, were not content with mere observation. They reinforced his submission to them before the audience, at every turn, giggling as they watched him squirm under the weight of their commands. Stripped of any remnants of pride, he was made to perform the most humiliating of tasks—polishing their sandals, combing their hair, and even massaging their feet. His awkward attempts to serve them only deepened their amusement.  

  The queen, savoring her power, would often extend such gatherings, ensuring that his humiliation was long and drawn out. She would invite a man of strength and lowliness, like a brave soldier or gladiator, and honor him with a wreath. Then, to further amplify the spectacle, she would assign the maid and a few less attractive ones to attend to him, their laughter ringing through the air as they reveled in his discomfort. The queen would instruct the maid to pay particular attention to him until he became fond of her. Then she would announce his prize for valor—he would get to keep the maids honoring him for the night. As the crowd looked fervently at the couple, the gladiator would often prove his power, making her know him through physical intimacy. The crowd would erupt in uproar, often prompting an impromptu fellatio that heightened the revelry of the evening before the prize performance wherin the maid often moaned in pain due to the cruel feminization treatments that made him sensitive and sore in those areas, the guests unwary of these treatments were pleasantly surprised at the outcome the queen derived and looked at her fervently. Thus the queen gained honour and power in their eyes.

After the maid had been thoroughly taken advantage of, another maid stepped in to chastise him for his brazen enjoyment of the situation. She ordered him to clean up and get dressed to continue serving the guests, her complaints echoing around him as she berated him for his lack of grace. She reminded him of every past failure, emphasizing that he now stood beneath even the lowest among them. They relished his struggle, maintaining a façade of composure while he awkwardly laced up his gown and fumbled with his makeup. The gathering was filled with laughter, relishing the absurdity of the charade. In the baths, amidst the giggling women and the queen’s satisfied smirks, he became a living embodiment of their amusement, reduced to the lowest rung among the very women he had once pursued. The gilted lovers reveled in his humiliation, their eyes sparkling with delight as they looked at each other. If they approached the queen in full view of the audience, to pay homage and accolade her with honor, further solidifying her power; The queen, relishing in her control, often gifted the feminized slave to be her servant for a prolonged period, amplifying his degradation. Their satisfaction was palpable, each chuckle and whispered remark underscoring his fall from grace and the sense of victory they felt over the once-coveted suitor.

From this, it’s clear that both Sporus and Lucius had become objects of derision. Statilia Mesalina’s laughter and choice of words conveyed her sense of superiority and mockery toward them, emphasizing her disdain for what she perceived as their lack of nobility and weakness respectively.

She scoffs when Sporus confesses Nero has indeed penetrated him,

 

“Why that effeminate, ignoble, pathetic little cinadeus,”—Statilia Mesalina

In that moment, Statilia Mesalina had found a way to navigate her predicament, escaping the looming threat of Nero’s Empress while Sporus faced the impending reality of his castration to become Empress.

After negotiating a deal with Nero on Lucius’s fate, Statilia Messalina confronted him with a sickeningly sweet pout, her lips curling into a false expression of sympathy. “Oh, darling,” she cooed, feigning concern while barely concealing her glee, “Nero’s decided your fate.” Her eyes sparkled with delight as she savored every word. “You’ll be performing as Goddess Aphrodite at the poetry recital. Months of to prepare—wearing frills and silks —how dreadful for you!” She sighed dramatically, pretending to care, but the mockery in her voice was clear.

As she circled him like a predator, her voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper, “And who knows, maybe the outcome will be… life-changing. A comlete pardon if you perform well else a permanent role, perhaps, serving me in something more… fitting. A chambermaid, maybe?” She stifled a giggle, eyes glinting with malice.

Lucius chuckled nervously, thinking it was merely a jest.

Oh, you’ll be rid of that little demon,” she continued, a smirk playing on her lips. “It wasn’t helping you in any way.

But her words pierced through his bravado, and Lucius’s confidence began to crumble. The smirk on her face morphed into a sinister grin as the reality sunk in. He felt the weight of his impending castration bearing down on him.

What do I do? Please, ” he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice

“Perfect little pet.” she responded

—Should I run…? asked Lucius

“where to? Caesar controls the world”, she laughingly replied

Her laughter echoed in the air as they engaged in a small debate, a game of wits that only heightened his anxiety.

The thought of seeing Lucius, once a powerful figure, reduced to this fate amused her. She relished in the vision of him sharing Sporus’s fate castrated and humiliated, nothing more than objects of derision, a chambermaid, as she entertained lovers. Statilia’s delight was unmistakable; Lucius’s emasculation wasn’t just his punishment—it was her triumph.

In the end, she relished her power, drawing him closer “You have to be obedient to me”

“You have to be obedient to me,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for dissent. Lucius nodded worriedly, his heart pounding. “Don’t make me upset…”

A tear rolled down his cheek as the weight of his situation sank in. He submitted, begging her to get him out of this predicament in one piece.

She laughed, a sound laced with dark amusement. “You’re toying with death… I can get you out alive if you wish.”

Lucius nodded through his tears, desperate for any glimmer of hope.

“But remember,” she reiterated, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “you have to be obedient to me.”

“I will be obedient,” he repeated, his voice trembling.

She changed her gaze, a playful glint lighting her eyes as she leaned closer, teasingly caressing his lips. “You have to be my obedient little girl.”

“I will be your obedient little girl ,” Lucius crumled.

Back to Sporus, Livia became his anchor in a tumultuous world. Understanding the challenges he faced, she took it upon herself to guide him through the intricacies of his new identity. Livia recognized that the transformation wasn’t just about clothing or appearance; it was a profound shift in how Sporus would navigate society. She introduced him to the customs and expectations of Roman women, teaching him how to carry himself with grace and poise, essential traits for survival in the court of Emperor Nero.

Livia also provided emotional support, offering a listening ear during moments of vulnerability. As Sporus grappled with feelings of loss and confusion, Livia shared her own experiences, revealing the challenges she faced as a woman in a patriarchal society. Her empathy helped Sporus feel less isolated, reminding him that he was not alone in his struggles. Through their conversations, he began to see his situation not just as a prison but as an opportunity for reinvention.

In addition to practical advice, Livia helped Sporus embrace his beauty, encouraging him to see it as a source of strength rather than a burden. She taught him how to adorn himself with silks and jewels, enhancing his femininity while reminding him of his worth. This empowerment transformed his outlook, allowing Sporus to harness his allure in a way that commanded respect and attention, even from those who once saw him as a mere object.

Livia took great pleasure in feminizing Sporus, reveling in the transformation from a boy to a woman. She guided him through the intricate rituals of beauty that Roman society revered, from adorning him in luxurious silks to carefully applying makeup that enhanced his striking features. Livia even took it upon herself to bore his ears, an act that symbolized his new identity and acceptance into the world of women.

As they spent time together preparing for social engagements, Livia would help him choose delicate jewelry and stylish garments, teaching him how to drape a stola with grace. The process became a bonding experience, filled with laughter and shared secrets. Livia’s enthusiasm in transforming Sporus was not merely about aesthetics; it was about empowerment and self-discovery. She encouraged him to embrace his beauty and allure, fostering a sense of confidence in his new identity.

Through these moments, Sporus learned to navigate the complexities of womanhood with Livia as his mentor and friend, creating a rich tapestry of support and camaraderie that deepened their relationship amidst the challenges they both faced in a patriarchal society.

As their bond deepened, Livia became a confidante and ally, helping Sporus navigate the treacherous waters of the Roman court. She provided invaluable insights into the politics of the time, ensuring he understood how to play the delicate game of power that surrounded Nero. Through her unwavering support, Sporus learned to adapt, finding resilience in his vulnerability and strength in his new identity. Together, they forged a path that allowed Sporus to thrive despite the challenges, illustrating the transformative power of friendship and understanding.

Imagine a boy whose charm rivals that of the most enchanting young woman. This notion challenges societal norms and redefines masculinity, much like how both Sporus and Andreja Pejić have done in their respective eras. Sporus, a young boy of remarkable beauty, became the beloved of Emperor Nero, who was known for his extravagant lifestyle and theatrical nature. Similarly, Andreja Pejić, who stands 6-foot-1 in stocking feet and even taller in heels, captivated the fashion world with her striking bottle-blond hair, full lips, and iconic beauty marks—qualities that have made her a standout model.

For both Sporus and Andreja, their beauty opened doors but also subjected them to scrutiny. Sporus’s transformation from a boy to Nero’s cherished partner was radical for his time, echoing Andreja’s journey from male model Andrej to a celebrated transgender icon. Just as Sporus embraced a unique identity in a powerful court, Andreja has navigated her own path through the fashion industry, challenging traditional gender roles along the way.

The Allure of Powerful Femininity

 

Now, let’s delve into the allure of powerful femininity. What if our charming boy not only embodied beauty but also commanded respect and admiration? Sporus did just that, becoming a potent symbol of love and defiance in Nero’s court. The emperor publicly adorned him in lavish gowns, accentuating his figure and celebrating a vision that blurred the lines of gender and attraction. This embrace of femininity was not just about appearance; it also encompassed the nurturing aspects often symbolized by women’s breasts, representing both sensuality and strength.

Similarly, upon returning from a vacation with her mother and grandmother in Italy, Andreja arrived at her agency’s office in a sophisticated leather pencil skirt from Ports 1961 and a silk Calvin Klein blouse. This polished look marked a striking evolution from the punkish androgyny she once embraced, showcasing her transformation into a chic, confident woman. “I had fun with androgyny, I had fun being rock ‘n’ roll,” she reflected, “but now it’s time to be chic.” Her embrace of femininity, including her curves and the beauty of her breasts, highlights the strength and grace inherent in being a woman.

Both figures challenge the status quo: Sporus by marrying Nero and stepping into a role that defied traditional gender norms, and Andreja by serving as a powerful voice for the transgender community while redefining beauty standards. Their journeys remind us that identity is fluid and that embracing one’s true self can lead to profound transformations.

Channeling the Queen’s Essence

“May I decline the invitation?” Sporus asked the guard sent to take him.

“No,” replied the Praetorian. “We are to take you regardless of the hour.”

“Boy or girl?” Sporus inquired, but the guards remained silent. Anticipating the worst—perhaps death—he decided to seduce his way out of the situation. He adorned himself in opulent attire, channeling the Empress of Rome, with deep black kohl framing his eyes and his lips painted a vivid red.

As he was escorted, his smiling servants dared not meet his gaze, though they internally reveled in the spectacle. The slaves whispered gleefully about his predicament, barely suppressing their laughter. “Leaving Croesus to gather what gossip he could among the household slaves, I allowed myself to be ushered into the banquet…” Even the Emperor’s great-aunt, who oversaw the Vestal Virgins, and the Virgins themselves delighted in queuing to witness the unfolding drama.

Standing awkwardly at the entrance of the Triclinium, Sporus felt a chill as the two soldiers took him away. Stunned, he did not resist. They led him past the public areas of the palace, where hushed whispers followed him eagerly. He felt increasingly awkward as they descended rough stone steps into a dank place deep within the building. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked, but received no answer. They brought him to a room with a narrow bed, where a man stood amidst rows of gleaming metal instruments.

In that moment, he understood why he was there, and since that day, he had tried to forget what happened next.

“You won’t feel a thing,” the man assured him… but theyre butchers.

“Ave, Impeatrix,” the onlookers shouted in unison.

At that moment, he became the Empress of Rome. Sporus was now entitled to the official dowry as the Empress and wielded all the rights, privileges, and powers of a Queen, including the authority to order a person’s death on the cross.

After his castration and ascension to the throne, he was indulged with an exquisite array of pampering and beauty treatments, including an enhanced version of the honey subligaculum. This luxurious garment was infused with soothing ointments and almond extracts, designed to nourish and rejuvenate his skin.

He was also privileged to receive rare pampering with different oils. His exquisite beauty treatment featured a blend of nourishing oils and soothing extracts, enhanced with the addition of a few live insects, whose stings were believed to invigorate skin vitality. Designed for the discerning individual, this indulgent subligaculum not only promotes healing and rejuvenation but also embodies the opulence of ancient beauty rituals.

His physique began to resemble that of a woman, embodying a new standard of beauty.Needless to say, Nero set the example at the time, and the market was flooded with effeminate-looking male slaves, ripe for the whims of an increasingly extravagant elite.

 

 

In 2014, Andrej Pejic underwent sexual reassignment surgery, fully embracing his new identity as Andreja. “I want people to understand that we are individuals. We’re human beings living real lives, and this is our reality. All we seek is acceptance and validation for who we truly are. It’s a fundamental human right,” he asserted.

Imagine if Sporus embodied the essence of a queen, adorned in silks and jewels, commanding attention wherever he went. In his relationship with Nero, he wasn’t just a lover; he became a powerful symbol of love that transcended societal expectations. Similarly, Andreja has embraced elegance and confidence, captivating audiences with her stunning looks on runways and in campaigns.

Throughout her career, Andreja navigated the complexities of the modeling world, initially gaining fame as a male model. Her androgynous appeal secured significant roles, including shows by iconic designers like Jean Paul Gaultier, who cast her in both men’s and women’s collections. However, as she began her transition, she faced concerns about acceptance. “Who’s ever going to accept me as a woman if the whole world knows me as a boy?” she pondered. Ultimately, she chose to embrace her identity fully, stepping into her role as a proud transgender woman.

Just as Sporus’s presence in Nero’s life made waves in Roman society, Andreja’s impact on the modern fashion landscape encourages others to embrace their true selves. Both figures have used their platforms to challenge norms and celebrate the beauty of self-expression.

Breaking Boundaries and Redefining Norms

Ultimately, the lives of Sporus and Andreja Pejić invite us to reflect on our perceptions of beauty and identity. Both narratives challenge conventional expectations and celebrate diversity in a world that often seeks to box individuals into predefined roles. They remind us that love and self-expression are powerful forces that can transcend societal norms.

As Andreja herself expressed, “I want to show that I can be approachable, and not have them think of me as an alien.” She emphasizes her desire for equal treatment and respect as a female model, highlighting the ongoing journey for acceptance within the fashion industry.

So, whether you’re channeling your inner queen, embracing your cute side, or redefining masculinity, let your style reflect who you truly are. Just as Sporus and Andreja have done, dare to express yourself boldly and celebrate love and identity in all their multifaceted glory. Their stories are a testament to the beauty of authenticity and the importance of carving out one’s own path in the world.

Reference: Impeatrix—The Empress who was once a Slave S P Somtow

WMagazine—https://www.wmagazine.com/story/victorias-secret-fashion-show-ed-razek-comments-trans-plus-size-models