Fashion and politics might seem like two separate worlds, but for women in power, they collide in ways that are impossible to ignore. While male politicians can wear the same navy suit day in and day out without so much as a raised eyebrow, every fashion choice a woman makes is dissected, debated, and turned into a symbol. In a perfect world, their clothes would be as insignificant as their male counterparts’—but our world is far from perfect.
For female politicians, fashion is never just fashion. Too expensive? Out of touch. Too plain? Lacking personality. Too feminine? Weak. Too masculine? Overcompensating. It’s an endless, contradictory predicament that reinforces a deeper message: no matter how qualified, women in power are judged by their appearance as much as their achievements. The reality for every woman, even if she is one of the most powerful in the world, is that appearance is everything.
These debates may seem trivial, but they reflect broader issues about gender, power, and the impossibly high standards society places on women. Here’s how power dressing—or, more accurately, the policing of it—has played out for some of the most prominent women in politics.
Angela Rayner: Pantsuits and Class Politics
When Labour’s Angela Rayner wore a sleek £550 pantsuit, critics pounced, accusing her of betraying her working-class roots. For some, her polished outfit signalled an uncomfortable shift from relatable to inaccessible, as it clashed with expectations that working-class women should maintain a modest and down-to-earth appearance. However, Rayner later revealed the suits were donated by Lord Alli, the Labour party’s biggest donor, which highlights the superficiality of the criticism— but, does it even matter if she didn’t pay for them herself?
The backlash highlighted a double standard: while male politicians often wear tailored suits that cost thousands , they’re rarely, if ever, are accused of losing touch with their working-class roots.
The controversy wasn’t really about the outfit—it was about the politics of class. For working-class women in politics, the pressure to prove authenticity is relentless. A sharp suit should project authority, but for Rayner, it became yet another way for critics to undermine her credibility.
Anything less polished would’ve certainly attracted more criticism (are we forgetting the tragic suits Boris Johnson used to wear with little criticism attached?) This mirrors previous instances, such as when Rayner was criticised for attending the opera, where critics again questioned whether she was staying “true” to her working-class roots.
Theresa May: Shoes as a distraction
Theresa May’s love of kitten heels—especially her leopard-print pair—made headlines time and time again. While some saw her footwear as a playful break from the norm, it threatened to overshadow her work. The focus on her shoes wasn’t just superficial; it became a way to question her seriousness as a leader. Now, this isn’t an argument for Theresa May’s competency as a leader, but when male politicians are scrutinised, it’s generally a focus on policy, not appearance.
Male politicians occasionally face criticism for their wardrobe choices—Jeremy Corbyn’s “scruffiness” and Barbour coat were scrutinized for not aligning with expectations of a polished leader, and others have been accused of betraying working-class roots with expensive suits. However, these critiques pale in comparison to the relentless policing women endure, where the genre and nature of the scrutiny add an extra layer of discrimination.
While Boris Johnson’s disheveled appearance is framed as endearing or authentic, Theresa May’s footwear choices became a liability, reinforcing the impossible standards women in power face. Anything “too much” or overtly feminine is automatically weaponized to question their competency, showing how appearance remains a harsher battlefield for women in leadership.
Michelle Obama and Kamala Harris: The Politics of Identity
It’s not just clothes either, hair is political too. Michelle Obama once revealed she straightened her natural curls as First Lady, worried that wearing her hair naturally would “distract” from her work. This choice went beyond aesthetics—it reflected the burden placed on Black women to conform to eurocentric beauty standards in order to be taken seriously.
Kamala Harris faced similar scrutiny during her campaign trail. Whether it’s her choice to wear Converse or her carefully styled hair, every detail is analysed, often loaded with racial and cultural expectations. Her looks were even used by her political opponent, Donald Trump, to sexualise and demean her, disrespecting her as a fellow candidate and political superior at the time. For women of colour especially, power dressing isn’t just about professionalism—it’s about navigating stereotypes while trying to stay true to themselves.
Jacinda Ardern: Breaking the Mould
New Zealand’s former Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern took a different approach to power dressing. Known for her bold colours, floral prints, and even wearing a traditional Māori cloak at formal events, Ardern embraced a style that balanced professionalism with authenticity. It also communicated her respect for New Zealand’s indigenous culture, making a power statement about her inclusion as a leader.
She still faced criticism on her UK tour, though—because no woman in power escapes it—with some questioning whether an expensive, New Zealand-made designer dress she wore was appropriate, given perceptions of extravagance. Yet, Ardern’s choices often highlighted how clothing could be used to connect with people, particularly through cultural representation. For instance, wearing a traditional Māori cloak at significant events symbolized her respect for New Zealand’s Indigenous heritage and fostered a sense of national identity, while the designer dress showed her passion for representing New Zealand creatives.
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However, this approach to style might have been easier for Ardern as a white woman in a smaller nation like New Zealand, where there is less global scrutiny compared to leaders of larger, more influential countries. A leader of colour—such as Kamala Harris in the U.S.—might face accusations of alienating certain groups if they wore culturally significant attire, reflecting the added pressures of racialised expectations in politics. Furthermore, New Zealand’s relatively limited media attention on the global stage may have allowed Ardern greater freedom in her fashion choices, enabling her to navigate these dynamics with less external pressure.
Why It Matters
Why does any of this matter? After all, they’re just clothes, right? Not exactly. The scrutiny of women’s fashion choices isn’t just superficial—it’s a reflection of how society polices women in power. Fashion becomes a weapon, a way to question their credibility, distract from their achievements, or reduce them to their appearance. This isn’t just about individual women; it’s about the bigger picture of systemic sexism and the enduring struggle for gender equality in leadership.
When we fixate on Angela Rayner’s pantsuit or Theresa May’s shoes, we reinforce the idea that women in power must meet impossible standards, often requiring them to reject outward expressions of femininity to command respect. This scrutiny shifts the focus away from their policies and onto their appearance, perpetuating outdated notions about who belongs in positions of authority. Even in roles of influence, women are forced to navigate a minefield of gendered expectations, where every choice—from their attire to their demeanour—becomes a source of debate.
But there’s also power in pushing back. Women like Jacinda Ardern have shown that leadership doesn’t have to fit a single mould by rejecting traditional expectations and proving that there’s no “right” way to look powerful. On the other hand, figures like Michelle Obama and Kamala Harris often navigate the pressures of conforming to established norms, while also dealing with the added burden of racialised scrutiny and white beauty standards.
This reveals the complexity of power dressing: it’s not just about the clothes but the story they tell and the barriers they highlight, like the stereotypes we’ve discussed. Until women in power are judged solely by their work, the politics of power dressing will remain an important conversation to follow.
