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Fashion really means something right now. It has ever since scores of pink pussy hat–wearing women from across the globe came together to march and demand ownership of their rights last January. A little knit cap with pointed ears became a cultural icon. A year later, clothing is once again the material means for a national conversation about a disturbing issue. On Sunday, many actresses—and some actors, too—will wear black to the Golden Globe Awards in a show of solidarity against the plague of sexual assault that persists in Hollywood and across many other industries, too. Though no one has actually seen a single dress design yet, the outpouring of opinions for and against this highly visible #MeToo protest has been raging for weeks.
Actresses and founding members of the Time’s Up initiative including Eva Longoria and Reese Witherspoon are readying their LBDs with the help of stylists. The outspoken Rose McGowan is not on board, according to her Twitter: “If they wanted to make a real silent protest they should have refused to attend. Just wearing black dresses doesn’t halt anything and the offenders aren’t going to care about all-black ensembles, but they’d care if the women refused to make money for them #hitthemwhereithurts.” Vogue Contributing Editor Lynn Yaeger, meanwhile, has suggested the women wear the colors of the suffrage movement instead. The dress code, she says, “will make a powerful statement, but black frocks, though undeniably elegant and almost uniformly flattering (well, unless you are 13 years old like Millie Bobby Brown), can look a little gloomy and grave en masse.” As has become commonplace in this splintered country, this gesture of protest has become as divisive as the issues that engendered it—and unfortunately, the key message might be getting lost in the debate.
Whether it’s in a plain black dress or one made of meat like Lady Gaga’s at the 2010 VMAs, walking the red carpet with the intention of standing up for an important cause, and speaking about that cause openly and honestly to the E! reporters along the way, is what’s important here. But, just to play devil’s advocate, let’s consider an additional fashion choice for the all-black-everything women of the Golden Globes: the pantsuit. Jane Fonda was one of the first women to wear a plain black, off-the-rack suit (Yves Saint Laurent, no less) to the Oscars in 1972, a year somewhat similar to this one in terms of political, social, and sexual upheaval. It was, in fact, a short time after her controversial trip to Vietnam, where she vehemently spoke out against the U.S.’s involvement and tactics, which, in turn, angered vets and politicians who saw it as a frivolous publicity ploy. It earned her the nickname “Hanoi Jane.”
“I decided to wear it to the Oscars when I won for Klute,” Fonda once said of the suit, because, “I felt it suited the somber times. Besides, I wasn’t into buying fancy dresses when the Vietnam War was still being fought.” She continued, “I wore something that made a statement. It was not a time for showy dresses. It was a time for seriousness.” Fonda may have accepted her award onstage with the words “there’s a great deal to say and I’m not going to say it tonight,” but her suit and her silence spoke volumes.
The #MeToo women and men need to be both seen and heard. Black may be dreary, but it also levels the playing field, stripping away the excess and the typical glitz plastered across TVs and computer screens during awards season. It opens up the dialogue to something far more important than sequins and cerulean. Using fashion to shift perspective—whether it’s a glamorous actress wearing a solemn pantsuit or one who is walking the red carpet in a melancholy dress—can be a fine tool for communicating a difficult message.