The aesthetics of power in the outfits of political leaders From Giorgia Meloni to Michelle Obama, what powerful women wear
The dress code often has a clear communicative purpose. It has always been like that, and fashion knows it, so much so that there are countless examples of designers throughout history who have unraveled the most diverse issues: social, cultural, even anthropological, and philosophical. This power of clothes is not only exploited for storytelling, analysis, or criticism but is also used to express leadership, as is the case in the political world. And if (male) politicians find it hard to distinguish themselves amidst piles of blue suits, powerful women are instead freer, at least from an aesthetic point of view, to manifest any stances or specific ideologies, precisely through their looks. Mr. Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni seems to have understood this very well, right from the first ceremonies that followed her electoral victory. Starting, in fact, from the swearing-in of the Council of Ministers in front of the President of the Republic at the Quirinale, the President has flaunted masculine looks and continues to do so without any hint of her being a woman. Flattening towards deep-rooted patriarchy is a way to send an unequivocal message that could reassure all the men who surround her (obviously in the majority) and obey her, reassured by her 'camouflaged' presence that she will not affect the patriarchal will. Dark suits with matching or white shirts strictly without frills, suede décolletés, frequently replaced by very masculine lace-ups: Giorgia Meloni's uniform never catches the eye, even when she wears Armani.
Fashion history also comes in support of this discourse. How can one not refer to the Power Dressing forcefully introduced by Armani in the 1980s with the desire to dress women as equals to men - mind you, not as men - to counter the ridiculous and outdated idea that the only role they could aspire to was that of secretary and certainly not CEO. King George's almost interchangeable suits have for decades sent a message of interchangeability, precisely, of male and female figures as well, without in any way relegating the latter to unimportant positions. Flanked by a rigorous Jil Sander who sculpted in his purest essentiality the perfect geometries in which to dress his women, proud, powerful, and above all authentic. Not to mention, on the opposite side, the superheroines celebrated by Thierry Mugler, such as the sensual fembots of the unforgettable Haute Couture Autumn/Winter 1995-96 Cirque d'Hiver or the ruthless insect-women of the Les Insectes Haute Couture Spring/Summer 1997 collection; or the surrealist and ironic, but always intellectual suits of Elsa Schiaparelli who made them between the 1930s and 1940s, collaborating with the likes of Alberto Giacometti and Salvador Dalí. These are all historical examples, which can be found by equal communicative force also in contemporary fashion proposals that, without weakening the expression of the power of those who wear them, enhance their personality and identity. Because, after all, without these two components how can one make a difference?
