Fashion and feminism
The relationship between feminism and fashion is a tumultuous one.
During the second wave of feminism, the New York Radical Women’s group protested at the 1968 Miss America Pageant and tossed items associated with femininity—high heels, false eyelashes, makeup, tweezers, curlers, corsets and bras—into the ‘Freedom Trash Can.’
It’s difficult to argue against the critics who say the fashion industry objectifies women and upholds beauty standards unattainable for the average woman. The industry sends messages that influence us, telling us how we should value ourselves and determine our self-worth. Instead of valuing ourselves based on our accomplishments, intelligence, and personal strengths, we are instead told that our self-worth is measured by our physical attributes and material possessions.
Critics of fashion say the industry objectifies women and upholds beauty standards unattainable for the average woman.
In the case of fashion, it’s what or who you are wearing on one tightly constrained body type. Women are continually pressured to contribute to this vicious cycle and wear the latest trends. But fashion touches the lives of women every single day. Fashion is integral to society; we make decisions about what clothes to wear every single day. A person generally wears multiple articles of clothing per day, not including accessories, and this forces us to make a choice every day. We can either choose not to care what we look like, which some don’t, or we can choose to conform to industry standards, which some do.
While industry standards certainly exist and there seems a pre-determined style to follow, imagine a world without a fashion industry. We really would all be wearing the exact same things; conformity for practicality. Fashion is a form of communication and personality; we can share our mood, beliefs, tastes, social or political views, and cultures.
Fashion is a form of communication and personality.
Make America Great Again baseball caps may be the most polarising of the sartorial political expressions but it’s certainly not the first. Haunted by the early 1900s stereotypical image of the ‘strong-minded woman’ in masculine clothes, the suffragettes chose a palette of white for purity, purple for loyalty and dignity, and green for hope. Because getting their message across was their main concern, they conformed to the popular styles and appropriated the visual indicators of their femininity to serve their own cause.
The suffragettes chose a palette of white for purity, purple for loyalty and dignity, and green for hope.
Not only did wearing white become an accessible way for anyone to join the cause, it also served as a defence against any criticism for appearing too intimidating or masculine as they challenged the status quo. Since then, feminist women have adopted the white colour scheme to nod to the suffragettes: Hilary Clinton wore a white ensemble as she accepted the Democratic nomination for President in 2016, Shirley Chisholm wore white as she became the first African American woman to be elected to Congress in 1968, and as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez became the youngest woman in history to be elected to Congress, she paired a white suit with her signature red lipstick.
‘I wore all-white today to honour the women who paved the path before me, and for all the women yet to come. From suffragettes to Shirley Chisholm, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the mothers of the movement.’ ~ Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez
Members of the US Congress wore suffragette white at the 2019 State of the Union address
As Virginia Woolf famously observed, clothes have ‘more important offices than to merely keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world’s view of us.’
On the 2018 Golden Globes red carpet, almost everyone wore black. Eva Longoria said: ‘This is a moment of solidarity, not a fashion movement’ but using dress as a symbol was one of fashion significance. By embracing the dress code proposed by Time’s Up in response to the Me Too movement, women donned black for an event that traditionally rewards sartorial flamboyance. Knowing they’d be quizzed about their outfits, the women in Hollywood used their clothes to turn a silent protest into a reverberating battle cry.
On the 2018 Golden Globes red carpet, almost everyone wore black.
Before the Suffragettes, there were the Tories who wore blue and orange in the 18th century court of George III. Then came the 1960s mini skirt, a symbol of the sexually liberated woman. People have long used fashion to state their solidarity with an ideal.
A Dior model strode down the runway wearing a t-shirt that read ‘We Should All Be Feminists’ and social media exploded, with Dior credited for championing feminism. The cultural mainstream conveniently forgot all about the fashion industry’s history of policing women’s bodies in the process. A single designer in a single season championing intersectional feminism does not make up for decades of excessively thin models or the severe lack of racial diversity in the industry.
A Dior model in a cotton t-shirt that set social media aflame.
It can seem that the beauty and fashion industries have embraced the idea of feminism only to placate their female consumers and preserve their bottom lines. Publications will ‘embrace real beauty’ and curves for an issue or two and then revert back to the skeletal models on which clothes ‘just drape so well.’
Capitalist consumerism is inherently exploitative and it is the lamentable fate of any counter-cultural movement to be adopted into popular culture. Kate Moss made grunge cool. Now, feminism is cool.
But now that feminism has been co-opted by the sartorial elite, the paragon of feminist is a parade of very skinny, very white, very young women in feminist-slogan-bedecked Chanel. Yes, wearing a t-shirt with ‘sisterhood’ or ‘feminist’ emblazoned across it helps bring feminism into public social spaces and advance conversation. But retailers are capitalizing on the trend without contributing to or even attempting to recognise the movement itself.
Yes, wearing a t-shirt with ‘sisterhood’ or ‘feminist’ emblazoned across it helps bring feminism into public social spaces and advance conversation.
The mass-produced clothing unleashed on the world in response to the feminist trend is upheld predominately by women. Women who live in poverty, are overworked, and barely earn enough to cover the basics of living such as food, rent and medical bills—let alone a slogan t-shirt.
Justine Picardie of Harper’s Bazaar nailed it: ‘Feminism is not a fashion trend. Obviously. It’s not any kind of trend.’
Whether you love fashion or don’t, no matter what you choose to wear, fashion doesn’t need to be another way for women to judge each other. No women should feel as if she is setting back feminism by caring about what she wears.
No matter what you choose to wear, fashion doesn’t need to be another way for women to judge each other.
Ultimately, fashion is a personal choice. Feminist or not, it can be a powerful tool in making statements. However, the women making clothing in abhorrent conditions for next to nothing don’t see the empowerment of fashion. The women suffering extreme poverty can’t throw curlers and high heels into a ‘Freedom Trash Can’. And the women sold into marriage and teenage pregnancy have little opportunity to share their political beliefs in a crisp white pant suit. Also, Dior’s ‘We Should All Be Feminists’ t-shirt retails at just shy of $900.
Feminism does give you the right to choose to wear whatever shoes you want, to rock the hooker heels, short shorts and underwired push-up bra. But we need to be careful that having that choice doesn’t move us backwards in terms of equality. Fashion, ultimately, is an industry for making money, not uplifting women.
Fashion, ultimately, is an industry for making money.
If feminist clothing makes you feel more connected to the movement, more power to you. But Western feminism is often quick to acknowledge the oppression around us while ignoring our purchasing power further afield. Supporting fast fashion contributes to the oppression of women, men, and children from marginalised communities, and as a feminist, you have an obligation to combat this mass exploitation. Choose local businesses, visit thrift stores and choose brands that source ethical labour.
Like all industries, the fashion world is undeniably problematic. But as Minh Ha T. Pham wrote in 2013, ‘If feminists ignore fashion, we are ceding our power to influence it.’ ■