Blog post: ‘Fashion and Politics: National and Transnational Aspects’

Model Veruschka styled as Chairman Mao, French Vogue December 1971, guest edited by Salvador Dali

Fig. 1: Model Veruschka as Chairman Mao, French Vogue, guest editor Salvador Dalí, December 1971. Courtesy of the photographer Alex Chatelain.

Third year student Rosalind Seabrook  introduces the upcoming Department of History of Art research seminar, ‘Fashion and Politics: National and Transnational Aspects’ by Djurdja Bartlett (London College of Fashion, University of the Arts London) on Wednesday 3 March at 16:00 – the event is open to all, for details please see the Department website.


Fashion and Politics: National and Transnational Aspects:

Djurdja Bartlett is a reader in Histories and Cultures of Fashion at the London College of Fashion, University of the Arts London. Her most recent editorial, a collection of essays entitled Fashion and Politics brings together a selection of leading voices in fashion scholarship. By investigating the interplay between fashion and the wider issues that plague society, from terrorism and nationalism to mass surveillance, whether through the co-opting of militaristic uniforms into high end fashion or anxiety of capitalist opulence being spread through fashion photography in 20th century soviet countries, Bartlett makes the argument that fashion, and politics have always been closely interlinked.

Bartlett opens her discussion on whether fashion can ever be defended by considering how it is often dismissed as merely a commodity fetish. The term fetish in Anthropology originally described a sacred or symbolic object perceived by its followers to hold special meaning or supernatural powers. Karl Marx later coined the term commodity fetish to describe the misguided view that the value of a commodity is intrinsic, that in a capitalist society the value is not in the labour but in the end result. Historically, and, to an extent, even today, women who express interest in fashion are seen as shallow. There has been a long been a prevailing narrative that to be a true feminist is to reject commodity fetish and societal standards of beauty.

Fashion can be interpreted as the ultimate commodity fetish. We follow fashion not necessarily for fine materials or artisan craftsmanship, but for the ephemeral feelings it can give us. Chasing trends allows people to briefly grasp onto that intangible high that clothes can offer and to benefit from their transformative power. As fashion is generally associated with women, it has become a battleground for feminism. To be overly interested in fashion is to somehow lower yourself from lofty intellectual pursuits to merely those of self-conceited pleasure. I myself have fallen victim to this notion, I have long had a passion for textiles and fashion but tried to downplay it in an effort to seem more serious, but truth will out. I strongly disagree with this notion that fashion and feminism do not mix, being a feminist is about your convictions and actions, rather than your sartorial preferences. Therefore, I was delighted when I came to university and found others who considered the History of Fashion and Textiles a serious Art Historical avenue. I think it is important that we encourage students to view History of Fashion as a reputable pursuit and not somehow a lesser cousin of Anthropology or Art History. Bartlett’s book highlights the relevance of History of Fashion in today’s society. By collecting the voices of current critics, Bartlett shows how fashion is history in the making, how street wear is as politically relevant as perhaps, a court dress from Versailles.

Dior T-shirt, "We Should All be Feminists"

Fig. 2: Dior Online, “We Should All Be Feminists”, T-shirt. Public domain website.

Bartlett’s focus on the tension between fashion and active political belief, such as Marxism or feminism, is particularly poignant. Indeed, there is something uncomfortable about Parisian fashion powerhouse Dior taking the title of Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche’s popular 2012 TED talk “We Should All Be Feminists”; putting it on a T-shirt and charging £580 for this (fig. 2). Dior’s then artistic director Maria Grazia Chiuri argued that fashion and feminism are not at odds, to engage with fashion invariably means interacting with politics. Yet does this speak to a shift in politics? Visibly being seen to be engaged is now considered as important as taking actions, in a world dominated by fast changing visual culture. Perhaps wearing a T-shirt made by Dior, as Bartlett wryly observes, paired with a designer bag and perfect hair, is about projecting the right kind of feminism, a clean and tailored version. There is an undeniable tension between different types of feminists in media. Television-friendly feminism, which often takes the form of a conventionally attractive, well dressed, usually white, non-threatening woman. In comparison to what some would describe as an angry feminist, she could be an outspoken woman of colour, be overweight, have visible flaws; or be someone who does not identify with the binary gender label of female. Dior favours the former image, the T-shirt modelled by a slim blonde, young white woman- an ideal presentation of their brand. It is “woke” without being threatening, it presents a palatable image of commercial feminism.

Most women do not have access to clothes from Dior, and arguably it is the women who make these clothes in the textiles industry that most need support. Roughly one in eight people globally work in the textiles industry, many of which are women. People in this industry need access to free healthcare, protection from sexual violence and a fair living wage. Feminism is not a fashionable outfit to discard at the end of the season, it is about ensuring everyone is treated fairly and can live free of gender discrimination. To an extent, branding expensive clothes with an easily digestible slogan, seems to ignore the struggles of many, while providing a means of virtue-signalling to the most privileged. This is not to condemn these who bought the T-shirt as anti-feminist, but rather to contemplate why they felt the need to buy this specific slogan from Dior, who the following year in 2017 had a revenue of £1.92bn, rather than supporting a smaller non-profit.

One of the most striking images Bartlett explores is of the model Veruschka styled as Chairman Mao (fig. 1), from French Vogue’s 1972 December edition, edited by Salvador Dali. This strange image of such a beautiful model in a bald cap and the iconic Mao suit plays with our perception of image recognition. Similar to perhaps the beret of Che Guevara, items of clothing can become synonymous with political leaders, to the extent that even when worn by someone else their meaning is still recognisable. However, there is an underlying tension within this image. This was the uniform of a man responsible for the decade long cultural revolution that purged Western capitalist and old imperial Chinese emblems from China, destroying many works of art and buildings. So, this emblematic suit being worn by a fashion model in France appears to be an attempt to satirise this uniform and seems to show that anything can be commodified. This plain suit, like Guevara’s beret, became a pseudo uniform for the revolutionist youth in the counterculture of the 1970s. Simple and genderless, it held the promise of a communist utopia in which everyone was equal, and workers were valued, even if this was not necessarily the reality the uniform represented. Bartlett comments on how Dali’s curation of this image presents Mao as a philosopher in front of a misty river, an allusion to the far away feel of China and the mysterious allure of his politics. Perhaps Dali is referencing the uncritical left who saw Mao as ushering in a new future without taking much time to consider the devastations and long-term ramifications of the Cultural Revolution. Whatever Dali was attempting to convey (if anything at all), it is a distinctly surrealist editorial that leaves a lasting impression and speaks to the complicated relationship of fashion and politics.

The Girl in the Blue Bra, Tahrir Square, 2011 during the Egyptian Revolution

Fig. 3: The Girl in the Blue Bra, 2011, Tahrir Square, Cairo (Stringer/Reuters/Landov). Image taken from Wikipedia under the Fair Use license.

Elsewhere, Bartlett’s work also highlights how fashion has always played a role in shaping and performing national identity, referring to, for example, how fashion and textiles has historically captured our political attention in unique ways. Bartlett discusses the potent symbol of the blue bra during the 2011 Egyptian revolution, shown in the accompanying image of a woman being stripped of her abaya while being assaulted by masked police, which ignited outrage and was used on protest banners and was reproduced as graffiti (fig. 3). She explains how this garment resonated with many all over the world, exemplifying the brutality of the Egyptian government.

The concept of clothing and textiles as potent political symbols is something that I am exploring within my own undergraduate dissertation on domestic embroidery in seventeenth century England. Similarly, I believe that textiles and clothing objects offer an accessible window into a century marked by domestic terrorism, revolution and regicide. Seventeenth century domestic embroideries can be interpreted as creating subversive symbols of political rebellion. Although not as obviously potent as the blue bra, historian Rozsika Parker has suggested that something as innocuous as an embroidered caterpillar could represent the executed Charles l, while a corresponding butterfly might signify, the desire for restoration of the monarchy and the ending of what some considered Cromwell’s totalitarian grip over England. We have long lived in a highly visual society and so, it would be unwise to underestimate motifs and the power of semasiographic communication. Whatever the geographical or chronological context, whether it’s a caterpillar or a blue bra, once textile or fashion object becomes embroiled in politics, it takes on a renewed symbolic life.

I very much look forward to hearing Djurdja Bartlett expand on her ideas in her upcoming talk and I invite you to come along. The study of fashion is an increasingly emerging and exciting aspect of Art History that offers us new source material and perspectives on visual and material culture. As a new generation of Art Historians are coming to appreciate the important role of fashion in not just political discourse, but also more widely in how our bodies, identities and societies are shaped, it is my hope that this rich field will only continue to grow.

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