Dr. Dorothy Height’s memorial service was held yesterday at Washington National Cathedral. Everyone from President Obama to the newspapers to the news anchors mentioned that in addition to her remarkable and courageous life of service, Dr. Height was a lady who knew how to dress. The Washington Post‘s Robin Givhan paid tribute to the message behind Dr. Height’s stylish hats and jewel-toned suits. (Article here, fabulous slide show here)
In matters of appearance, Givhan wrote, there are a host of ways in which one can flash both self-confidence and self-respect.
How we express that confidence and demand for respect depends on who we are. We might put on a power suit, or a pair of Doc Maartens. We might choose to wear hijab…or not. We might prefer something symbolic of our national origins, like a sari or kente cloth. Big hair? Natural hair? Earrings? Hats? Tattoos? It’s all about how we present ourselves, unapologetically, to the world.
As a child, I loved dresses. I had lots of them in lots of colors, many sewn by my mother and grandmother. I loved strutting around in those dresses. I gave them up for a while, though. I can count on one hand the number of times I wore a dress during my four years in college; it was the mid-90s and jeans ‘n’ flannel ruled. But now when I want to make a statement, I’m back to dresses, and not basic black—I wear colors that let people know I have arrived. I especially love wearing a bright, chic dress when everyone else is a man in a suit. Those dresses make me feel like I’m projecting my confidence—and my unapologetic female-ness—to the whole room.
What’s your favorite statement-wear? What conveys your fabulousity when you want the world to pay its respects?
Just a dot too much black eyeliner in the cleopatra mode, form fitting suit or skirt, tight sweater (no cleavage tho) with high heeled boots.
Bright red or hot pink lipstick and big-ass hair. I know I’m never going to look conventionally “hot” so this look feels like a big f-you that says, “I don’t meet your standards, but I’m not afraid for you to notice me.” Also, it’s just fun.
A well-tailored jacket with dark, straight-legged jeans — no pegs, no flares. It’s simple, but clean and classic and I feel like if you took my picture, ten years later I wouldn’t groan in embarrassment.
Leather jacket and combat boots.
A dress definitely, bonus points if it shows off my broad shoulders.
I have a pair of red patent kitten heels that are freakishly comfortable (esp. for this flip-flop devotee), and they’re just a little bit of sass that keeps trousers and cardigans from being too dowdy or blah.
And I’m going out tonight, so I’m wearing my “Lower East Side jeans”: super dark, super tight. Haven’t decided on the shoes yet.
A white shirt with a blazer over it (collar out, of course, but NOT popped), black slacks, a red scarf worn cravat-style—shoutout to my 18th/19th century clothing fetish!—and my lucky Scrabble-tile earrings. This is my “I’m a badass, don’t fuck with me” outfit.
Also, I haven’t tried it out yet, but I really want to try an androgynous 80s/New Romantic style for going out and dancing, preferably with a poofy shirt, Flock of Seagulls hair and messy makeup.
My goth gear.
Combat boots, fishnet, lace, corsets, cat’s-eye black eyeliner.
The black suit says: “I will kick your ass.” The pearls say: “Politely.”
I feel most powerful in a well fitting suit, a printed scarf, and vintage jewelry. As I get older I rely on uniforms more, and this is my go-to ensemble for commanding respect while still feeling creative and inspired. I work in a conservative field, but I can’t focus at all if I feel dowdy.
I feel powerful in my football (soccer) uniform! My white and black boots, pink shin-pads, and blue socks, shorts and shirt.
It’s like when I’m the field the laws of physics (and especially that of gravity) don’t apply to me. Despite often being one of the smallest players on the pitch I feel like I am able to assert my body in a way I’m unable to off the pitch.
I second wondering. Leather jacket and combat boots. Especially with a pair of dark men’s jeans and a collared shirt and tie.
I wear a skirt and heels every day – and I smile everywhere I go. It says “I’m important, successful, and nice; we should be friends”. Works too. I’ve been making lots of new friends lately.
I used to wear loads of nice things – I have a wonderful collection of shoes, a great number of 30s and 40s vintage teadresses and a lot of nipped in 40s and 50s suits and skirts.
Sadly these days I wear jeans, jumpers, t-shirts and trainers all accessorized with the tasteful smell of baby sick. it’s not entirely my children’s fault – I now work from home which appears to have lessened my interest in clothes considerably.
That said I really need to kick start my wardrobe again – of course I can’t actually fit into my old wardrobe but maybe I should just get a grip and buy something new. Ho hum.
Oh Rodriguez – if you read this – I saw your comment from last week re twitter but it was too late to respond. I would twitter articles were I not a technophobe who doesn’t really engage with social networking (i know I am sad). Maybe that could be my second resolution after stop wearing dull clothes stinking of baby sick.