The Take: Has the black dress protest become another way to judge women?
The Duchess of Cambridge received negative press last week for not wearing black to the BAFTAS. But, argues Elizabeth Day, we mustn’t let this become another way in which to criticise women for what they wear
I’m not, it must be said, the biggest fan of the Duchess of Cambridge’s fashion choices. It’s all a bit too small- C conservative, a bit jolly hockey sticks for me. She often looks as if she’s walked straight out of the pages of a mid-market catalogue designed to make bored housewives feel funky for wearing espadrilles.
But when Kate appeared at the BAFTAS HE young ment. last week wearing a forest-green Jenny kylie Packham gown, I found myself in the unlikely position of wanting to defend her. It wasn’t that I liked the dress (sorry, but I think forest green should stay in the forest), it was that Kate was roundly criticised for failing to wear black in solidarity with the Time’s Up campaign against sexual assault and harassment.
On Twitter, one user’s quote, which attracted over 2,000 likes, read: ‘Quite
a bummer to see that the Duchess of Cambridge didn’t wear black to the #BAFTAS, and not a #Timesup pin on either Cambridge. There is nothing political about standing up to sexual assault. This should’ve been an easy choice for them to make, and they failed.’
Several other BAFTA attendees, including Naomie Harris and Jennifer Lawrence, chose to wear black, as did host Joanna Lumley. This, of course, is entirely their prerogative. But surely it’s also up to Kate what she wants to wear or doesn’t?
It struck me, looking at the bile heaped on her, that ahead of this weekend’s Oscars ceremony, the black dress protest has simply become another way to judge and criticise other women.
The protest started with the best of intentions at the Golden Globes – to raise awareness of the culture of sexual harassment across the film industry in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein scandal. At January’s ceremony, the all-black sea of starlets, including Natalie Portman and Meryl Streep, did have an unexpected visual impact. It felt appropriately sombre; a united front of women who had been forced to remain silent for too long.
But the thing about eye-catching gimmicks is that they only really work once. It was all very well for the Hollywood A-list to turn up in matching black designer dresses to raise awareness, but the real work isn’t done on the red carpet. Sexual harassment and gender inequality is not going to be eradicated because of what colour your gown is, which is why it is far more important for these actresses to put their money where their mouth is.
It’s why the Time’s Up legal fund, started by donations from top Hollywood power players, is so crucial. It was set up to help less privileged women, such as nurses, waitresses, farm and factory-workers, to protect themselves from sexual misconduct and the fallout from reporting it. The reason the Weinstein allegations were a tipping point in the treatment of sexual misconduct was because the majority of the women speaking out were in a position of socio-economic independence – they were famous, had their own money and a public presence that meant what they said could not be easily ignored. In short, they had power. So, I would argue that the real job in eradicating harassment in the workplace is about empowering other, less fortunate women. It’s not about dresses. Awareness has well and truly been raised. Now it’s time to get our hands dirty.
Because there’s a point with every successful protest when the symbol becomes separate from the intent. Wearing a black dress without the action to back it up is in danger of becoming hollow virtue-signalling. Let’s not forget that the actor James Franco also wore black and proudly sported a Time’s Up badge when accepting the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Musical or Comedy. The next day, he was accused of sexual misconduct by several actresses. Are we really meant to believe Franco is a dedicated campaigner for gender equality simply because he wears a promotional pin on his lapel?
Likewise, wearing one of Dior’s £490 T-shirts emblazoned with ‘ We Should All Be Feminists’ does not stop you being a misogynist. No, guys. What you actually need is a root-and-branch reassessment of your mindset. You can get that for free.
In this age of motivational hashtags and Instagram selfies, we often forget that real change requires real action. It is not enough simply to be seen to be doing something; you actually have to do it. The branding of a protest should never outweigh its substance. You can’t slap a Snapchat flower-crown filter on endemic discrimination and hope it goes away quietly. This is more than skin-deep.
Besides, do we really want to fall into the trap of slagging off other women for what they’re wearing or not wearing? It is 2018, a hundred years since some women got the vote, and we should be allowed to do whatever the hell we want with our bodies. Take Jennifer Lawrence – when the actress appeared at a photocall for her latest film, Red Sparrow, wearing a Versace dress last week, some media coverage suggested she had been discriminated against by not being given a coat like her male co-stars. J-law took to Facebook to respond. ‘I love fashion,’ she wrote, ‘and that was my choice.’
And that’s the key, isn’t it? Choice. I think the black gown protest has served its purpose. It made an impact the first time at the Golden Globes. At the BAFTAS, it felt like a pale imitation. Let’s see what happens at this Sunday’s Oscars.
Why don’t we allow women to express their individuality in a blaze of colour – and not criticise them for it. In a world that constantly pits women against each other, that might be the truly revolutionary act.
it’s not about dresses – now it’s time to get our hands dirty