Why do we care about what female politicians wear?

Does what a politician chooses to wear have an effect on their popularity in politics? Especially on women. It is no secret that women are constantly scrutinised on mainstream media for their looks. They have been bombarded with advertising for all kinds of products, with skin cream to diet pills. Women who hold public office are analysed, judged and criticised for their appearance much more than their male counterparts. As scholar Katherine Waller states, societal focus on fashion and appearance is important, stating "Primarily, it is valuable because it is a reflection of the values we hold as a society as well as representation of what we expect from women in power." For women in politics, their appearance can be used as a form of attack as evidence of being incompetent, too spendy or unprofessional. 

I am writing this post after a female MP, Ryu Ho-jeong, was criticised for attending a parliamentary session in a colourful dress. Ryu Ho-jeong drew condemnation and praise after she was photographed in the national assembly chamber in what local media described as a red mini dress earlier this week. Her choice of clothes - a contrast to the dark suits and ties worn by most male MPs - triggered a flood of misogynistic comments online. One, which appeared on a Facebook forum for supporters of the governing Democratic party, said Rhy - a member of the small, progressive Justice Party - "looked as if she had come to the assembly chamber to collect payment for alcoholic drinks." She said that her choice of clothes was designed to challenge male dominance in the 300 seat assembly, which has a record of 57 female MPs after April's election. 

Ryu is part of a growing movement of South Korean women who are challenging outdated expectations of how they should appear in public. The 'escape the corset' campaign is being driven by a backlash against exacting beauty standards that call for women to spend hours applying makeup and performing skin care regimes, as well as achieve a certain look by undergoing cosmetic surgery. This has been transported into politics where appearance is playing a greater role for women. We live in a surface-oriented, looksist culture that has permeated our way of perceiving those who would be in charge of our lives. For example, shortly after Nancy Pelosi appeared on "Face the Nation", Nora Ephron posted a blog entry in which she mused about the speaker's too-short haircut. 

Women are under the scrutiny of creating a consistent persona under the gaze of television. The wrong footwear can decompose the whole picture, for example, Ségolène's high heels whilst walking around the slums of Chile. Women in politics open up an abundance of opportunities for inductive analysis and it needs to stop. We study their shade of lipstick and brand of footwear. Some politicians could utilise fashion, with it being one of the most readily available political tools. It is impossible to separate fashion and politics. We will remember this if we recount the headlines generated with Theresa May's leopard print kitten heels or Jeremy Corbyn's tracksuits. 

Yet it has to be said that women in politics are scrutinised significantly more. They are held to a different standard when it comes to fress. In November, writer Eddie Scarry of the conservative Washington Examiner made headlines when he tweeted a photograph of Republican elective Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the New York City Democrat, with the caption, "that jacket and coat don't look like a girl who struggles." Attempting to cast doubt on Ocasio-Cortez's working class background. 

It is draining that women are still being much more criticised for their clothing choices than men in politics. Their clothing is judged and dissected. Sometimes they have been subjected to rules their male colleagues did not worry about. For example, when Moseley Braun was elected, the first African American woman to serve in the US senate in 1993, women were not supposed to wear trousers on the Senate floor. The media has also used women politicians' fashion choice to distract from the policies and positive change they are trying to implement. 

The problem with clothing and politics is that the media focuses on the clothes in ways that belittle or demean the women wearing them. They are held to standards of dress that do not apply to men. It underlies the wide consensus that politics is dominated by men and women are still treated like outsiders, open to scrutiny. 

Now this is not a recent phenomena. If we look back in politics, the first women member of Congress, Jeannette Rankin, took office in 1917. Right away, her clothes became a topic of conversation. A Washington Post headline proclaimed, "Congresswoman Rankin Real Girl: Likes Nice Gowns and Tidy Hair." According to the Post, Rankin was "thoroughly feminine - from her charmingly coiffed swirl of chestnut hair to the small, high and distinctively French heels. She is given to soft and clinging gowns, and, according to her own confession, is very fond of moving pictures." This was a typical analysis of women at the time, whose looks and dress often received extensive attention. 

If we look to the late 1920s and early 1930, the representative Katherine Langley, who represented Kentucky, was criticised for dressing too colorfully. One reporter wrote: "She offends the squeamish by her unstinted display of gypsy colours on the floor and the conspicuousness with which she dresses her bushy blue-black hair." Additionally, Hattie Caraway who in 1932 became the first woman to be elected to the Senate, commented in interviews and in her diary that the public seemed to be rather obsessed with what she wore. 

The disproportionate fixation on women politicians' clothing continues today. Political cartoons often portray women in revealing or otherwise inappropriate clothing. A 2011 cartoon, poking fun at Nancy Pelosi for taking an expensive vacation depicted her in a t-shirt and bikini bottoms. Another cartoon, from 2009, showed Pelosi with a lacy undergarment bunched below her dress and labeled "liar." In the cartoon, the man was whispering in her ear: "Your slip is showing." 

Meanwhile, Hilary Clinton, has been routinely criticised for wearing pantsuits. Even Project Runway's Tim Gunn joined in, saying in 2011, "Why must she dress that way? I think she's confused about her gender." Yet, every male candidate wears pants and suits. Male candidates have it pretty easy in terms of making non-controversial clothing choices. Therefore, it is not surprising in this sense that she roughly wears the same attire worn by male candidates. What Hillary wears tells us very little about her political savvy, her foreign policy expertise or other factors that would influence her ability to be President. But is she just playing into the stereotype of women's fashion in politics? 

It is clear that women in government are expected to downplay their femininity but not be labeled frumpy or severe. In a conversation with Time, Rhonda Garelick, profession of fashion studies at Parsons School of Design in New York, asked us to consider "how much more it takes a young woman to dress in a way that speaks to power, when her male colleague simply has to put on a dark suit." And this is true. A women's appearance in politics is loaded in so many ways while a man's dark suit is not. 

This common consensus is not only seen in American politics. It is seen in British politics. Shirley Williams, a Cabinet Minister in the 1970s, was often portrayed as a 'bag lady' by the British press because her hair and clothing were deemed to be unkempt. Margaret Beckett's fashion sense was derided by the tabloid press in the 1995 Labour Party leadership elections, likening her physical appearance to that of a 'gargoyle'. The Labour Home Secretary Jacqui Smith was criticised for wearing a top in 2007 that revealed 'too much cleavage' for the TV cameras while making a statement in parliament. In 2012, Conservative MP Louise Mensch was angered by media questions and speculation about whether or not she had undergone facial cosmetic surgery. In 2015, the Labour leadership candidate, Liz Kendall, expressed her anger at a newspaper reporter's question about her weight and the description of her by the Mail on Sunday as an "elegant...slinky brunette." There is also the categorisation of women MPs using media epithets such as "Blair's babes" and "Cameron's Cuties." 

And the list could go on. It is shocking that women MPs remain highly visible in relation to their male peers and thus are subject to media comment about their dress on an unequal basis. If women in politics face close and critical scrutiny of their dress, women in executive office are even more subject to such destabilising focus. Look at Margaret Thatcher. Thatcher had an emotional connection with dress, which developed in her adolescence. Thatcher's vivid self-dramatisation as the 'Iron Lady' in 1976 used her dress to invoke the most abiding metaphor of her as a leader: "I stand before you tonight in my Red Star chiffon evening gown, my face softly made up and my fair hair gently waved, the "Iron Lady" of the Western World," (Thatcher 1976). She invoked this image at the Finchley constituency dinner and used to dress to construct her personal and political identity. 

However, Thatcher used the tool of fashion in a positive light. She knew that society was watching what she wore more because she was a women. Due to this, she performed multiple gendered identities using dress. She shaped and reshaped her identities to accentuate her political power. Thatcher was not a passive recipient of hostile media comment, but both challenged media focus osn her dress and sought to encourage and manipulate it. Her power dressing reflected her political status. She alternately resisted and encouraged such attention and exercised varying levels over her fashion choices. She was conscious of being watched and rearranged her appearance because of it. 

In 1975, days before becoming party leader, Thatcher challenged a male interviewer asking, "Why is it that all the young men ask me about what I look like?". He replied, "Well, it may seem to people who work in a factor or a mill that you don't share or understand their daily concerns." Thatcher responded, "Yes, all you young men ask me what I look like. I am 48 so I supposed it's flattering that you can concentrate on my appearance." The interviewer replied, "No, we are not asking what you look like as such, but we are asking about your political image." Thatcher concluded, "Yes, why do you always ask what I look like?" 

I think this interview sums up the post nicely. Why are women scrutinised so much? They are constantly commented on and focused on how they dress. Thatcher's office even issued guidance on her clothes, hair and eating habits. She was constantly under the discriminatory graze and even had voice coaching lessons to lower the pitch of her voice.  In a way, Thatcher saw the positives of her being under such scrutiny by utilising dress to engender broader political messages. Adapting her dress helped her to reach out to new constituencies for support and counter her Conservative critics. But the fact is that we need more women in high office to deconstruct the gaze. I hope that one day women in politics will be able to step into their power as effortlessly as their male colleagues, without expending undue effort on wardrobe choices.