Michelle Obama’s legacy of style
Choices the US First Lady made about her clothes reflected far more than fashion, writes
AT THE Hay-Adams a few months ago, members of Washington DC’s diplomatic community gathered inside the historic hotel’s glasswalled loft, with its postcard views of the White House, for a conversation about fashion. About clothes and their place on the world stage.
The programme, hosted by the State Department and Elle magazine, included a panel discussion that featured designer Derek Lam. When the conversation came around to first lady Michelle Obama – because how could it not? – Lam dropped his head in a mournful manner and lamented: Her departure from the East Wing signalled the end of a singular era for American fashion.
During her tenure, Obama brought attention to Seventh Avenue. She energised designers, editors and stylists with her fashion-forward wardrobe choices.
She made industry insiders stand taller both at home and abroad. She’s been an exemplar of modern, fit and confident middle age. And she has been the most high-profile cheerleader for the sleeveless sheath as the 21st-century power uniform.
“It’s been accepted everywhere,” says designer Maria Pinto, who created many of Obama’s 2008 campaign dresses, including the purple sheath she wore when she fist-bumped the presumptive Democratic nominee. “You don’t have to be in a suit. There’s other ways to get that power look.”
Lam is among the many Seventh Avenue designers whose clothes have been part of the first lady’s public wardrobe and whose life story has been fundamental to her version of fashion diplomacy. Obama wore Lam’s block-printed dress for her arrival in Beijing in March 2014. Lam, who grew up in San Francisco, is of Chinese descent. In wearing his design, Obama quietly noted that in addition to trade agreements and intellectual property concerns, there was a very real, human connection between the US and China.
For the Obamas’ first state dinner, in honour of India, she wore a white strapless gown by the Indian American designer Naeem Khan. In 2011, she donned an array of British brands – Preen, Roksanda – for a visit to London. But for the grand occasion of a state dinner at Buckingham Palace, Obama wore a regal white gown and long white gloves by an American designer, Tom Ford – but one with deep business roots in London.
She wore a flowing violet gown by Japan-born designer Tadashi Shoji, whose business is based in Los Angeles, to a state dinner in honour of Japan, a dress by Korean American designer Doo-Ri Chung for the South Korea state dinner and a student-designed frock to a White House education workshop on careers in the fashion industry.
Her clothes were unexpected: a cardigan to meet Queen Elizabeth II. They spoke of Hollywood glamour: a Vera Wang mermaid gown at the China state dinner. They evoked Everywoman: hiking shorts at the Grand Canyon.
Obama was good for fashion. Mostly because she got people talking about it. But look closely and see that the bright light she shone on fashion also revealed the challenges of a business that traffics in glamour and fantasy. Her mid-market wardrobe choices sparked sales.She underscored how most fashion companies are entrepreneurial endeavours, not big publicly traded corporations. They are the very definition of small businesses. She thrust once little-known brands – Jason Wu, Brandon Maxwell, Azede JeanPierre, Narciso Rodriguez, Maria Cornejo, Pinto – into the spotlight, giving them priceless publicity and a leg up in expanding their businesses.She helped young people see that fashion was more than catwalk extravaganzas and “Project Runway”. In October 2014, she brought fashion designers to the White House as part of her education initiative Reach Higher.
And she connected fashion to the broader popular culture.
“Fashion is really about passion and creativity, just like music or dance or poetry,” Obama said during her welcome to students. A good portion of the population has always been stubbornly committed to the idea that clothes don’t matter and to give them more than a moment’s consideration is evidence of superficiality, snobbishness or weak character. But dressing with consideration and care is part of the social contract. It is part of what makes a civil society.
Clothes are part of the ritual of weddings, funerals, coming-ofage celebrations, faith-based rites of passage. Our choice of attire is a measure of our respect for those around us. Obama turned fashion into an especially eloquent form of communication. Her first inaugural gown, the white one with its single strap and romantic embroidery, is displayed at the National Museum of American History. Other gowns were stored at the National Archives until they were recently shipped to Chicago along with boxes of other Obama administration artifacts.
In countless state appearances, Michelle Obama highlighted the absolute best that Seventh Avenue had to offer, in the same way one might expect the White House to offer the non plus ultra of American culinary skill at a state dinner, or present the most accomplished musicians at a concert.Fashion is, perhaps, no longer a “third rail” topic for any woman who wants to be taken seriously, but it still isn’t broached with the same enthusiastic patriotism as, say, baseball or a March Madness bracket.
Even for a style-conscious first lady, her relationship to fashion is complicated.
Obama did not rely on a single designer as a de facto personal dressmaker, as had been the case with her most recent predecessors. When she first stepped on to the national stage, Obama, who grew up in Chicago, relied heavily on the simple, sleeveless sheaths of hometown designer Maria Pinto. And once in the White House, certain designers became staples in her wardrobe – Khan, Rodriguez, Wu, Michael Kors, Tracy Reese. But she pulled from a wide range of collections – some of them quite esoteric, such as Thom Browne. Her fashion vocabulary was deep and rich.
The result was a wardrobe that spoke eloquently about an entire industry.The country’s interest in Obama’s clothes began during the 2008 presidential campaign. The fascination increased once she became first lady, in part because she didn’t dress like the stereotypical Washington matron in boxy suits, nude pantyhose and sensible pumps. Her favourite accessory was a wide, embellished Azzedine Alaia belt that emphasised her hourglass figure. She did not wear pantyhose. She wore over-the-knee suede boots. She stood out, not because she was setting trends or even leading the charge in embracing those offered up by the fashion industry. She simply looked engaged with fashion. Her clothes were part of the fashion conversation. She looked modern.
As with any celebrity christened a style icon, Obama had the ability to spark a shopping frenzy. Companies like J Crew, the Gap and White House Black Market benefited from the culture’s Obama obsession. One researcher tracked Obama’s ability to create consumer demand and estimated the “Obama Effect” was worth $38 million to a company.
As much as Obama’s clothes have been rich with symbolism, the East Wing has been loath to discuss the thought that goes into her fashion choices.
A confidential transition memo from July 2008, released by WikiLeaks, offered advice on handling public interest in the new first lady’s wardrobe: “Former first ladies’ chiefs of staff recommend throwing a bone to the press and public – show the inaugural gown or at least disclose the designer; answer questions about hairstyles. … In other words, fulfil the public’s fascination with celebrity and the mystique of the White House – most of it will die down as the administration progresses.”
Her staff did not follow that advice, not even for inaugural gowns. Details of Obama’s fashion selections were typically shared by flattered designers who took to social media, an observant reporter who managed to identify the garment from a runway collection or a savvy publicist who trumpeted the news.
Obama didn’t dress and tell. But she offered the public something more than silk and satin to consider.
The fascination with Obama’s style has not simply been about the clothes, but the body in them.
A lot of people had never seen a black woman so confidently glamorous – one who had not won an Oscar or a Grammy or spent her professional life raising Cain on reality television. Obama was not model-thin; she wasn’t an ingenue. She was a grown-up with an impressive résumé staking her claim on fashion. She was a unicorn on the political circuit. And she was strong. Folks could literally see her strength in her arms. A small industry developed around them, with more than a few personal trainers declaring they knew the secret to sculpted triceps. Her wardrobe choices underscored a simple but often overlooked aspect of fashion: It should be a confidence-building pleasure, not a burden.
Obama engaged in a different, broader kind of conversation that was about the challenges and aesthetics of fashion and its role in the economy, in diplomacy and in our daily lives. It falls to the next residents of the White House – one of whom is a former model – to bring fashion fully into the fold.
And doing so requires not just selecting a wardrobe that reflects occasion, personality and modernity, it means being willing to discuss it with ease and thoughtfulness.If it’s worth it to ask, “What’s on your summer reading list?” why not also inquire, “What’s new in your closet?”The answer surely matters. Givhan is the fashion critic for The Washington Post.