Andrej Pejic: A Trailblazer in Fashion and Identity

Andrej Pejic—now Andreja Pejic—burst onto the fashion scene in the early 2010s like a breath of fresh air, challenging everything we thought we knew about modeling, beauty, and gender. Their story is one of courage, creativity, and a refusal to fit into boxes, making them one of the most fascinating figures in modern fashion. In this blog post, we’re going to dive into Pejic’s journey: from their early days as an androgynous superstar to their transition and life beyond the runway. I’ve always been drawn to people who shake things up, and Pejic’s career does just that—blurring lines, breaking rules, and inspiring countless others along the way. Let’s take a closer look at who they are, what they’ve done, and why their legacy still matters today.

Early Life: A Global Beginning

Andrej Pejic was born on August 28, 1991, in Tuzla, a city in what’s now Bosnia and Herzegovina. Back then, it was still part of Yugoslavia, but the region was about to face serious upheaval. Their parents—Jadranka, a Serbian economist, and Vlado, a Croatian economist—split up shortly after Pejic was born, and when the Bosnian War broke out in 1992, Jadranka took Andrej and their older brother Igor to a refugee camp in Serbia. Life there wasn’t easy, but Jadranka was determined to give her kids a better shot. In 1999, when Pejic was eight, the family got the chance to move to Melbourne, Australia, as political refugees. That move shaped everything that came next.

Growing up in Melbourne, Pejic stood out—not just because of their striking looks, but because they didn’t quite fit the mold. They’ve talked about feeling different from a young age, drawn to things that weren’t typically “boyish.” I can imagine how that might’ve felt in a suburban school setting—kids can be tough on anyone who doesn’t blend in. Pejic went to University High School and later started studying law at RMIT University, but fate had other plans. At 17, while working a part-time job at a fruit orchard, they were spotted by a modeling scout. That random moment—picking apples under the Australian sun—kicked off a career that would change fashion forever.

The Androgynous Breakthrough

Pejic’s entry into modeling wasn’t your typical story. When they signed with Storm Model Management in London, the industry didn’t know what to make of them. With long blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a slim frame, Pejic could pass for male or female—or neither, depending on the shoot. That ambiguity became their superpower. In 2010, at just 19, they walked their first major runway for Jean Paul Gaultier in Paris, strutting in both men’s and women’s collections. I remember seeing those photos—Pejic in a tailored suit one minute, a flowing dress the next—and thinking how effortlessly they pulled it off. It wasn’t just about looks; it was about presence.

The fashion world took notice fast. Gaultier, known for pushing boundaries, saw Pejic as the perfect fit for his vision—someone who could blur gender lines in a way that felt natural, not forced. From there, the gigs piled up: Marc Jacobs, Raf Simons, even a campaign for Dutch brand Hema modeling push-up bras. That last one got a lot of buzz—here was someone assigned male at birth selling women’s lingerie, and doing it with total confidence. Magazines couldn’t get enough either—Pejic landed covers for *Dossier Journal* and *New York Magazine*, often styled in ways that played with androgyny. One *Dossier* shoot had them posing topless, censored by the distributor, which only fueled the hype.

What struck me most about this era was how Pejic handled it all. They weren’t trying to be a gimmick—they were just being themselves. In interviews, they’d shrug off labels, saying things like, “I’m just me,” or joking about being “between genders.” That laid-back attitude made them a standout in an industry full of curated personas. By 2011, they were named one of *FHM*’s “100 Sexiest Women in the World”—a wild twist for someone who wasn’t identifying as a woman yet—and ranked 18th on *Models.com*’s Top 50 Male Models list. It was clear: Pejic wasn’t just a model; they were a phenomenon.

Redefining Beauty Standards

Pejic’s rise came at a perfect time. The early 2010s were all about questioning norms—fashion was getting edgier, and society was starting to talk more about gender. Pejic fit right into that shift, but they didn’t just ride the wave; they helped steer it. Designers loved them because they could wear anything—men’s suits, women’s gowns, avant-garde pieces that defied category. Take the 2011 Gaultier couture show—Pejic closed it as the bride, draped in a sheer gown with a dramatic veil, looking every bit the ethereal icon. It was a statement: beauty didn’t have to fit a binary.

I’ve always thought that moment crystallized what Pejic brought to fashion. They weren’t there to play a role—they were rewriting the script. Magazines called them “the face of androgyny,” and it stuck because it was true. Their look—those delicate features paired with a quiet strength—challenged the idea that models had to be one thing or the other. I remember flipping through fashion blogs back then, seeing debates about whether Pejic was “male” or “female,” and realizing how pointless it was. They were proving that beauty could exist outside those boxes, and designers like Gaultier and Jacobs were all in for it.

Their impact wasn’t just visual—it was cultural. Young people saw Pejic and felt seen too. I’ve read stories from fans who said watching them on the runway gave them courage to embrace their own identities. That’s powerful stuff for a 20-year-old model to pull off. Pejic wasn’t preaching or posing as a activist—they were just living authentically, and that authenticity rippled out. Fashion started shifting: more androgynous looks popped up, brands experimented with genderless campaigns, and the conversation around identity got louder. Pejic didn’t start it, but they sure helped push it forward.

The Transition: Andrej to Andreja

By 2014, Pejic’s career was at a peak—runways, editorials, a documentary in the works—but something bigger was brewing. That July, they came out as transgender, announcing they’d begun transitioning and would now go by Andreja, adding an “a” to their name. It wasn’t a total shock—Pejic had been open about not fitting traditional gender roles—but it was a bold step. In a *People* magazine interview, they shared that they’d always known they were a girl, even as a kid, and had started hormone therapy years earlier. The final push came with gender confirmation surgery in early 2014, a decision they described as a way to align their body with their truth.

I admire how they handled it—straightforward, no drama. They didn’t owe anyone an explanation, but they gave one anyway, saying they wanted to “show that you can be successful and happy as a trans woman.” That’s classic Pejic—using their platform without making it a big performance. They kept working too, signing with Ford Models as one of the first openly trans models on their women’s board. The industry welcomed her—well, mostly. Some designers who’d loved the androgynous Andrej weren’t sure what to do with Andreja, but others, like Giles Deacon, kept booking her for shows and campaigns.

Her first big post-transition moment was a Vogue feature—the magazine’s first profile of a trans model. I remember reading it and feeling like it was a milestone—not just for her, but for fashion. She talked about her childhood, her surgery, and her hopes for the future, all with that same calm confidence. Then came the Make Up For Ever campaign, where she starred alongside Jamie Chung, one of the first trans women to front a major beauty ad. It was a full-circle moment—back in 2011, she’d modeled bras; now, she was selling lipstick as herself. That shift showed how far she’d come, and how far the world was starting to come too.

Life After the Runway

Andreja’s career didn’t slow down after transitioning—it evolved. She kept walking runways—Marc by Marc Jacobs, Prabal Gurung—and landed editorials in *Elle* and *Marie Claire*. But she also branched out. In 2013, before her transition, she’d filmed *The Girl in the Spider’s Web*, a David Bowie biopic that never got released. Post-transition, she took on bigger roles, like a part in 2018’s *The Girl in the Spider’s Web* (a different project, based on the Lisbeth Salander books). Playing a villain’s henchwoman wasn’t a stretch—her sharp features and cool demeanor fit the vibe perfectly.

She also got into advocacy, though not in a loud way. Pejic worked with groups like Transgender Legal Defense and Education Fund, raising money and awareness for trans rights. Her 2016 Kickstarter documentary, *Andreja Pejic: A Documentary*, gave fans a closer look—childhood clips, transition footage, runway highlights. I haven’t seen the full thing—it’s still floating around in limited release—but the trailer alone shows her honesty. She talks about the highs (Gaultier’s applause) and lows (industry pushback), keeping it real without oversharing.

These days, she’s a bit quieter—less runway, more personal projects. She’s modeled for Chromat and Savage X Fenty, brands that champion inclusivity, and popped up in campaigns like Bonds lingerie in 2017. I’ve seen her Instagram posts—still that signature blonde hair, still that effortless style—and it’s clear she’s living on her terms. She’s spoken about wanting to act more, maybe even write, which makes sense for someone who’s always had a story to tell.

The Legacy of a Trailblazer

Pejic’s impact on fashion is hard to overstate. They didn’t just model—they reshaped what modeling could mean. Before them, androgyny was a niche—think ‘90s icons like Stella Tennant—but Pejic made it mainstream. They showed up at a time when the industry was ready to experiment, and their success paved the way for others: Hari Nef, Teddy Quinlivan, Hunter Schafer. I’ve watched runways get more diverse since then—more trans models, more non-binary faces—and I’d bet Pejic’s early strides helped make that happen.

Their influence goes beyond fashion too. For a lot of young people—especially those figuring out their own gender—Pejic was a beacon. I’ve read comments online from fans who say seeing her in *Vogue* or on TV gave them hope, a sense that they could be themselves and still shine. That’s not small—fashion’s often dismissed as shallow, but when it lifts someone up like that, it’s powerful. Pejic didn’t set out to be a role model—they’ve said as much—but they became one anyway, just by being unapologetic.

They’ve faced pushback too. Some critics called their androgynous phase a “stunt,” and post-transition, there’s been chatter about whether she’s “less unique” now. I think that misses the point—Pejic’s never been about fitting someone else’s idea of special; they’ve been about living authentically. The fashion world’s fickle—trends shift, tastes change—but her staying power proves she’s more than a moment.

Personal Reflections

I’ve followed Pejic’s career for years, and what gets me every time is their quiet strength. They didn’t shout about breaking barriers—they just did it, one runway at a time. I remember seeing them in that Gaultier bride gown, this mix of delicate and fierce, and thinking how rare it is to see someone so comfortable in their own skin. It’s made me rethink beauty—not as a set look, but as a feeling, a confidence that doesn’t need to explain itself.

Their story hits home for me too. Growing up, I knew people who didn’t fit the norm—friends who got flak for their clothes or their hair—and I wish they’d had a Pejic to look up to. Watching her navigate fame, transition, and everything after has been inspiring—not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real. She’s stumbled, faced doubters, kept going. That’s the kind of grit I admire, and it’s why I wanted to write about her.

Why Andreja Pejic Matters Today

So, where does Pejic stand now? She’s not the constant headliner she was in 2011, but her influence lingers. Fashion’s more inclusive than ever—brands like Gucci and Balenciaga play with genderless looks, and trans models are no longer outliers. Pejic helped kick that door open, and it’s staying that way. She’s still working—recent shoots for *Harper’s Bazaar* Serbia and Australian brands show she’s got staying power—but she’s also living a life that’s hers, not the industry’s.

Her legacy’s about more than clothes. It’s about showing that you can be yourself—messy, evolving, undefined—and still make a mark. I think that’s why she resonates—whether you’re into fashion or not, there’s something universal in her journey. She’s a reminder that the best stories don’t need a script; they just need someone brave enough to tell them. Andreja Pejic did that, and fashion’s better for it.