Feminist Dress

Cardigan: J Crew
Skirt: Ann Taylor
Tee: Target (men's undershirt)
Scarf: gift from my uncles
Booties: Aldo
Belt: Banana Republic
Sunnies: Puerto Rico
Earrings: swapped

This is me being super late on this week's Feminist Fashion Blogger's post, but I've been thinking a lot about the way I express my beliefs, particularly my feminism in the way I dress, and I do want to talk about it.


I feel like the way I dress does say something about what I believe. I don't think it's obvious, and I don't intend for it to be, but I think that these things are a part of the way I make decisions about what I buy and how I wear what I wear. And now here is where my "Third World feminism"comes into play. One of the things that I believe is really important is the celebration, if you will, of those things that are traditionally feminine.


One of my issues with "traditional" Western feminism is the way that we've been asked to embrace all things that are traditionally masculine and almost disparaging those things that have long been "women's work". As if those things hadn't been the kinds of things on which society was built. And I think that ignoring those things - picking up more of that "men's work" without expecting reciprocal respect and sharing of "women's work" is not the kind of feminism I want to be part of.


And so, when I dress, I like to celebrate that femininity, a shout out to the women of the past. Strong women like my grandmother and my great grandmother. Women who worked outside of the home out of economic necessity, not by choice. Women who raised children who have become productive, intelligent citizens. Women who may not have had the opportunities that I've had, who made choices that I might never make, but who should be celebrated for their strength and their weaknesses, for the lessons they passed on. Women like my mother who stayed home to rear children. And though I may have seen it as a weakness when I was a child, I see it as nothing but strength now.


The thought of being a mother scares me. At twenty-eight, I don't feel my biological clock ticking and pushing me towards that kind of miracle, but I do revel in claiming a lot of traditional roles: wearing skirts, walking in heels, cooking dinner and showing the strength in those things. Seriously, more men should know the comfort of a skirt.