Todos deberíamos ser feministas

Besides being an accurate reflection of society, fashion is a very important weapon for transmitting power. Depending on who uses it and for what, it will bring regression and submission or progress and freedom. On the occasion of International Women's Day, we selected ten moments in which clothing and feminism have allied to fight against repression and shout for equality. Because as the writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie well stated, and Dior turned into a t-shirt, "We should all be feminists."

13 march of 2018 at 12:47h

They smoke, drink, and talk with men

The ephemeral incorporation of women into the workforce during World War I and the carpe diem sentiment that followed the horrors of said conflict led to the emergence of women who wanted to be taken into account not only in the realm of civil rights, but also in everyday life. Thus, the first aesthetic protest act of the flappers was to replace the corset with girdles that repressed any feminine form. And over these artificially androgynous bodies, they wore straight, low-cut dresses that exposed their knees when they danced or ran. Flappers, like Zelda Fitzgerald, highlighted their faces with striking makeup and adorned themselves with dozens of jewels and beads (a trend that until then only prostitutes followed), drove, drank, and smoked in public, something unheard of for the time. They cut their hair and even imposed the garçon and bob styles that would become the look of the moment.

Design for an active woman

“Until now, clothes were designed for idle women; I design for an active woman,” Coco Chanel warned. And she more than fulfilled her mission. The French designer put an end to all aesthetic clichés regarding the worth and independence of the female gender: “In my youth, women did not seem human. Their clothes were unnatural. I gave them back their freedom. I gave them real arms and legs, movements that were authentic, and the possibility to laugh and eat without necessarily having to faint.” The petite robe noire (which could be worn from morning to night without needing to change for each occasion), tweed sweaters and pullovers that were put on over the head, low heels, the reduction of ladies' headdresses (“they looked like ridiculous birthday cakes,” she used to comment), the 2.55 bag (the first with a chain so hands could be free), the creation of costume jewelry (allowing women to acquire accessories without depending on their husbands or social status)...

In the 1980s, women gained access to higher education and the so-called career women appeared, that is, educated women who accessed management positions previously reserved only for men. Women emulated the aesthetic of their male colleagues with suit jackets, large shoulder pads, and buttoned shirts to build an image of seriousness and authority. It was the great moment for Armani and his power suit.

I will wear a skirt when I attend her funeral

“When will you wear a skirt?” journalist Barbara Walters asked the great Katharine Hepburn. The actress, unfazed, replied: “When I attend her funeral.” Bam! Unlike her peers, Hepburn had never allowed any producer or director to change her style (neither of thinking nor of dressing): pleated trousers, men's shirt, turtleneck, loafers, and minimal makeup. A very similar case to Marlene Dietrich, who embodied the androgyne aesthetic during the thirties, sowing controversy and ahead of her time. The German actress used ties, bow ties, oxford shoes, men's hats, and wore completely masculine suits, unstylized, from the Austrian tailor KNIZE, preferred by the dandies of those years in Europe. Trousers did not begin to normalize among women until the sixties and seventies, coinciding with May '68. In 1966, Yves Saint Laurent presented and popularized the women's tuxedo. As Pierre Bergé aptly summarized, “Chanel gave women freedom and Yves Saint Laurent gave them power.”

With their gaze, they are setting civilization back a hundred years

“With their gaze, they are setting civilization back a hundred years,” Diana Vreeland snapped upon seeing the retrograde reaction of her colleagues at Harper's Bazaar when they discovered the bikini. The fashion editor was one of the first to predict that the (re)invention of the fifties bikini (in Ancient Greece, the two-piece set was already used as clothing for the comfort of female athletes) was going to be “as impactful as the atomic bomb.”

If at the beginning of the 20th century, the police guarded the beaches with tape measures in hand to arrest those who were too “exhibitionist,” in 2016, after the Nice attacks, a woman dressed in a burkini was reprimanded by officers for being too covered... France, wounded and morally weakened by the jihadists, considered banning the garment, but finally understood that legislating again on women's clothing would only mean a victory for extremists and a huge setback of freedoms for all French, European, and Western citizens.

We want to be what we are

During the first half of the 20th century, skirts had been progressively shortening. The dances of the roaring twenties and the incorporation of women into sports contributed to women showing more and more inches of leg. But until the early sixties, a fixed skirt length above the knee had not been seen. Under the slogan "We want to be what we are," Mary Quant's miniskirt not only questioned what was socially acceptable for women, but by coinciding with the birth control pill, it became the garment of female sexual liberation par excellence.

Let's burn our bras!

The 20th century began with the introduction of the empire waistline. Madeleine Vionnet, Jacques Doucet, Paul Poiret, and the Spaniard Mariano Fortuny, with his pleated Delphos dress (1909), gave women a break by rescuing the Hellenic style cut. The corset began to lose popularity as the struggle for women's freedom grew.

On September 8, 1968, the Washington Post published a fake news story claiming that a group of women protesting in New York against the sexism represented by beauty pageants had ended up burning bras. The gesture, which in reality never happened because they did not obtain permission from the authorities, ended up becoming a symbol of the feminist revolution. Currently, when platforms like Facebook or Instagram still prohibit the publication of any snapshot showing female breasts, the initiative in this matter is #FreeTheNipple.

From unisex to genderless

First, back in the sixties and seventies, it was called unisex fashion. Today, with a more conceptual basis, it is called genderless, neutral, or genderless fashion. It is about loose, versatile, and comfortable clothing for both sexes. Although the trend is now reaching the racks of Zara and H&M, the leading designers of this style were the Japanese Rei Kawakubo (Comme des Garçons) and Yohji Yamamoto in the eighties, the Belgian Ann Demeulemeester in the nineties, and the American Rick Owens in the 2000s.

I wear black and you wonder why

The suffragettes of the early 20th century, in addition to adopting a refined and romantic style that softened their combative message, created their own chromatic code to differentiate themselves: green for hope, white for purity, purple for loyalty... But, without a doubt, purple is the color most associated with feminism. It is said that the smoke from the fire in which 129 workers of a textile factory in New York died in 1908 while demanding minimal improvements in their terrible working conditions was of that hue.

If with the arrival of Donald Trump to power a pink pussy hat was chosen to show rejection of the magnate's attitude and words of offense against women, for a few months now, the Time's Up movement has encouraged all actresses and actors to take a stand against sexual harassment by dressing in black when they step onto a red carpet at film awards. On January 30, Democratic women in the United States Congress followed the trend by dressing in black for President Trump's first State of the Union address. In contrast, the American first lady attended in white. But the chromatic opposition did not mean a confrontation with the Democratic women; rather, it was decoded as explicit support from Melania Trump for the cause: the president's wife wore a white pantsuit, an originally masculine ensemble that Hillary Clinton wore throughout her presidential campaign and that paid homage to the white of the American suffragettes.

The woman I carry outside

This case, in addition to being recent, is close to home. Surely it sounds familiar... Alfred from OT and numerous actors and actresses at the Goya gala wearing a classic masculine suit (symbol of capitalism and patriarchy) with shapes of women's bodies drawn on it. "The woman I carry outside" is the latest project by Malaga artist Ernesto Artillo. The profits obtained from auctioning each of the artistic pieces will be destined to different associations that support women.

We should all be feminists

Just a few days ago, during Paris Fashion Week, the first female creative director of the French firm Dior once again turned her show into a call for the feminist struggle. If in 2017 Maria Grazia Chiuri already managed to print the title of Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's essay on the chests of half the world (going viral "thanks" to the 500-euro t-shirt being counterfeited and endlessly reinterpreted by all low-cost brands), this time the models wore slogans on their garments such as "Why have there been no great women artists?" or "C'est non, non, non et non." Pure marketing strategy? Perhaps. In an industry based on capitalism and voracious consumption, doubt and suspicion always remain. While we wait for some university to demonstrate the impact and influence of t-shirts and banner bodies (Femen) on our minds, we are left with the important part of the campaign: "We should all be feminists."

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