The Pantsuit and a Fight that Isn’t Over

We are lucky enough to live in a society where fashion can be used as a vessel for self-expression. Creativity and innovation are bursting from the fashion world now more than ever. Clothes are no longer restricted to the purpose of practicality; they are artworks. Androgynous fashion has become more normalized and accepted by society, which is great for me, since I dress like a 12-year-old skater boy from the 90’s (Jaime. 19. She/her. Can’t skate for shit). The vast spectrums of gender and sexual identity are finally being recognized as legitimate. And with that, gender-specific norms are diminishing as well, especially with clothing. It’s crazy cool stuff, dude. Contemporary fashion constructs, or lack thereof, are still brand spanking new. Stylistic freedom is a gift many of us don’t realize we have, especially since many of us don’t realize how we got here. Now, I could babble for pages about the various complex ways in which fashion is taking stupid gender sterotypes and kicking their asses back to the 20th century. But I’m not gonna do that. I’m gonna talk about how one garment in particular, so incredibly classic and simple, caused an uproar of controversy and became a symbol of social revolution. I’m gonna talk about pantsuits. For women!

In this day and age, I can wake up in the morning, take a piss, brush my teeth, stumble over to my dresser, throw on a pair of Lippy jeans and walk out the door with the only afterthought in my head being whether I forgot to flush the toilet. Had I been born in the early 1900s, I would’ve been scooped up by noon and thrown in jail simply because of my pants. I also probably wouldn’t have a toilet capable of being flushed, but I digress. The concept of women wearing pants was totally out of the question until World War I, when women had to enter the labor workforce while their husbands were fighting overseas. Even still, it was socially unacceptable for a woman to wear pants outside of the workplace. Not even in their own homes. In a wartime society of riveters, pants were not a fashion statement, but a means of practicality. I mean, who wants to work in a munitions factory, building bombs and wearing a floor length skirt?

The female role in the war effort aided the suffragists in their multi-decade fight for the right to vote. 3 years after the ratification of the 19th Amendment, the very first female suit was introduced by luxury fashion’s beloved Coco Chanel. The iconic menswear-inspired suit consisted of a boxy, collarless jacket and a knee length skirt, intended to allow more movement while still being aesthetically appropriate for post-war women looking to enter the workforce. Although this design sparked controversy and wasn’t fully integrated in societal norms, the Chanel suit paved the way for pantsuits to come. And come they did… eventually.

Marcel Rochas is credited with originating the idea of pairing pants with women’s suits in 1932 with a set of gray wool slacks and a matching jacket with shoulder pads galore. In 1939 Chanel’s rival, Elsa Schiaparelli, featured a brown speckled wool suit with single pleat trousers in her Fall/Winter collection. Pantsuits were first introduced as streetwear in the late 30s and early 40s by Hollywood actresses Marlene Dietrich and Katharine Hepburn. Both women were suited up in the films Morocco and Woman of the Year, and proudly continued to support androgynous fashion in their everyday wear.

WWII continued to push women into industrial roles that were previously held by men, and by 1945, women made up 37% of the workforce. Pants were more common in female society than ever and even still, they were unacceptable in public.

Enter Yves Saint Laurent. August. 1966. The debut of his revolutionary Le Smoking tuxedo for women. Complete with a cummerbund and bowtie. Now, you might say, “Cut the crap, Jaime. That’s nothing more than a classic male tux, just worn by a girl.” But that, my friend, is where I say you are dead wrong. When my man Yves decided to make this suit, he completely changed the game for androgynous womenswear. The meticulous attention to detail in this craftsmanship beautifully flatters the female form and contributes to the statement being made. It helped prove the point that, contrary to common critiques, women are capable of wearing suits without trying to impersonate men. The curve and shape of the collar are much softer than that of a male tux. As works of art demonstrate over the course of history, soft, curved lines suggest femininity. The trousers were tailored to give the effect of an elongated leg and the blouse's waistline is narrowed to better fit the body. MUAH. Chef’s kiss, right?! Well, society didn’t think so.

This design received insane amounts of backlash. It was considered the epitome of immodesty, due to the sexualization of a divided crotch area. So, riddle me this: a woman whose body is covered head to toe in a design that is a derivative of menswear is still considered slutty? Hm. Makes sense.

By the 70s, pants were finally accepted as part of the female school dress code under Title IX of the Education Amendments, and pantsuits became the uniform of choice for women working in male-dominated spaces. In the mid 80s, women made up 49% of the workforce, and held 36% of management positions. Power suits rose in popularity through brands like Giorgio Armani. The updated suit design sported more masculine silhouettes with large lapels, broader shoulder pads, and harsher edges, intending to distract from the female gender and emulate authority. And yes, that is as depressing as it sounds.

As power dressing seemingly reached its peak, the presence of pantsuits in mainstream female fashion deflated by the 90s. Many working women, particularly those in government positions, were still expected to wear skirts. In 1993, Senators Barbra Mikulski, Nancy Kassebaum, and Carol Mosely-Braun made history when they became the first women to set foot on the Senate floor wearing pants. One small step for a woman, one giant leap for womankind. Incredible, yes. But also appalling.

In the past few years, pantsuits have made a powerful comeback, resurging on runways, red-carpets, sidewalks, and conference rooms. Women are sporting pantsuits at prom, the Met Gala, and even on their wedding days. As society has progressed, pantsuits have evolved from a symbol of the female fight for power into a garment worn by a symbol of power. The efforts of women fighting for equality throughout history are starting to be rewarded on a global scale. Women are finally setting foot on territories only known to man. The patriarchy is falling. May it crash and burn. Amen.

While this origin story is one of great strength and achievement, it is also important to recognize how insane it is that not even 30 years ago, a woman in a suit was still a concept widely rejected by the world. And although we are lucky enough to live in a society where fashion is a vessel for self-expression, we also live in a society where dressing however you want is still considered an act of bravery. Maybe I can put on pants and walk out the door without a second thought. But there is always a certain risk of ridicule and sexualization when it comes to shorts, or a crop top, or leggings, or a mini skirt, or a low cut shirt, or knee high socks or… well, you get the point. The issue has never been what a woman wears, it is the fact that she is wearing it.