Responses to Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer’s new
relaxation of Senate dress codes have so far fallen along partisan lines:
Republicans have been deploring it as a lapse in decorum and order. “Most if
not all Republican senators think we ought to dress up to go to work,” Mitch
McConnell said. Mitt Romney called it “a terrible choice,” and from the House,
Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene pronounced the change “disgraceful.”
اضافة اعلان
Democrats have tended to dismiss these complaints, insisting
that matters of dress are mere distractions in light of the grave matters
facing the Senate: On X (formerly Twitter), Democratic Sen. Tina Smith wondered
how anyone could complain about a dress code when “House Republicans are about
to drive the federal government off a cliff.” Sen. John Fetterman, famous for
sporting shorts and hoodies (and for whose benefit many believe the rules were
changed), expressed a similar sentiment in an interview with MSNBC: “Aren’t
there more important things we should be talking about rather than if I dress
like a slob?”
Well, yes and no.
The fact is that how we dress in various settings is
inextricable from serious political issues. How we dress telegraphs intricate
messages to those around us, as well as to ourselves — messages we receive and
interpret constantly, consciously or not. There is no such thing as “total
freedom” of dress, only different registers of meaning, which are entirely
context dependent. Just as words make sense only relationally — in sentences
and paragraphs — garments have meaning only in relation to other garments. A
tuxedo’d guest at a wedding is unexceptional, nearly invisible. A tuxedo’d
guest at a picnic is a spectacle.
To begin with, this new “code-free code” poses special
challenges for women, since business attire is actually a standard created for
men. The simple dark suit with pants, jacket and collared shirt was launched in
the late 19th century as attire for a new class of (male) office workers, and
patterned after the sober, unadorned garb of clergymen. The suit turns a man
into a compact, easily readable visual unit over which the eye skims quickly,
uninterrupted by embellishments or intricacies of silhouette. Suits, therefore,
homogenize men’s bodies, making variations of weight, even height, less
noticeable, focusing attention on the face. Men’s suits say “we are heads, not
bodies.”
Business attire does some of this for women, but can never
offer the same degree of carefree simplicity. Women are still the adorned,
visible, bodily sex whose physicality gets staged by clothes. Accordingly,
women’s fashion — including even business attire — requires a near-infinity of
daily microdecisions from head to toe: dress or pants? Low or high neckline?
Flats or heels? (If heels, how high?) What kind of jewelry? How much makeup?
What is my hair “saying”? Harder still, these decisions all carry a perpetual
risk of tipping us somehow into “inappropriateness” — of exposing too much or
too little, of trying too hard or not enough, of missing that sweet spot
between alluring and dowdy, while, of course, presenting the usual challenges
concerning age and body type.
Sen. Susan Collins (R-Maine) before a vote in the Senate on Capitol Hill in Washington, June 1, 2023. Allowing senators to wear what they please on the Senate floor may seem like liberation, but abandoning the dress code may wind up being symbolic of the failure to achieve consensus.
Casual wear just makes it all harder. Fetterman in a hoodie
and shorts or Ted Cruz in a polo shirt might read as athletic or relaxed, conjuring
the basketball court or golf course — places associated with youthful male
prowess or preppy privilege. Would we think the same of Susan Collins dressed
similarly? Leisure wear for women risks depriving them of gravitas, making them
look “off duty,” and hence outside the space of authority. (Collins
acknowledged as much when she joked about wearing a bikini to work.) Would
women in the Senate in sweatshirts, yoga pants or tennis skirts be taken
seriously? To put it another way, women’s dignity and authority remain, alas,
more socially precarious than men’s — harder to construct sartorially and far
easier to lose. Taking away the dress code might exacerbate this inequity.
What’s more, formal business attire offers some of the most gender-neutral fashion
options, thereby enhancing sartorial equity for nonbinary individuals.
And what about the inequity within the Senate workplace as a
whole? The new freedom of dress applies to senators only, not to anyone else
who works there. This could lead to a new kind of visual class stratification,
wherein a group of older (median age of 65.3), mostly white (88%), mostly male
people (75%) in various states of leisure wear is being served by a cadre of
younger, less well paid, more ethnically diverse interns and staff members all
in formal business wear. In such a context, the business attire of nonsenators
might start looking disturbingly like waiters’ uniforms at a country club.
Hardly a liberating or egalitarian message. Context is everything.
Finally, dress codes are a marker of social, national,
professional or philosophical commonality. They bespeak shared ideals or
training, membership in a group. This is why sports teams and the military wear
uniforms. Why medical professionals wear white coats. Business attire may not
be a uniform, exactly, but it serves a similar function. It’s true that in
recent years, offices have loosened their dress codes, embracing all kinds of
workplace attire. But the Senate is more than just a “workplace.” It represents
the highest level of our country’s government, whose actions are watched by and
hold consequences for the entire world. Such an august body needs to look the
part. A sea of 100 adults all dressed in some kind of instantly recognizable,
respectful manner — a suit and tie, a skirt and jacket — creates a unified
visual entity. A group in which individuals have agreed to subsume their
differences into an overarching, sartorial whole.
But as we all know, the Senate has never been more divided.
In a body so riven, one of the last symbolic markers of accord is a dress code.
Can such a code eliminate the profound differences beneath the surface? Of
course not. But it does remind senators and everyone around them (including the
general public) of the still-noble goal of consensus. A sum greater than its
parts.
Read more Fashion
Jordan News