Fashion's Faux Feminism

Thoughts on Dressing for Progress

By Kris De Welde

Bring on the faux in fashion: faux fur, faux leather, faux feathers! Those trends are (mostly) positive and have far less impact on the non-humans with whom we share this planet. But you can keep the faux feminism out of my closet.

Recent trends in mainstream fashion have recognized the capacity for commodifying the “feminist” label—and related ideas—and many consumers are lapping it up, uncritically and apolitically. In truth, part of me is delighted to see young people (some as young as toddlers) wearing “grrrl power” and (if older) “consent is sexy” t-shirts, socks, pins, hats, and so on. But I will be honest here—I do roll my eyes and groan. But why can’t I embrace that my local department store has glittery “empowered” tanks for sale as a featured item next to the “skinny” jeans? Just take a moment to sit with that contradiction.

Not too long ago, to be called a feminist was to be labeled angry, anti-men, hate-filled, and anti-child. Of course, we feminists knew that was ridiculous, a right-wing hijacking of the simple premise articulated by activist and writer Cheris Kramerae: “feminism is the radical notion that women are people.” And today’s feminism is not just about women. It cuts across categories of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity and other social markers. It is “intersectional”—that is, attending to liberation from oppressions that intersect and interlock because of our varied experiences in a world that perpetuates injustice based on social markers.

So then we should be celebrating that feminism has become mainstream, trendy and fashionable, right? Isn’t this what we have been waiting for?

Not really. “Commodity feminism” (as defined by Sarah Banet-Weiser) is essentially the difference between feminism as an individual identity that one can take on or off depending on the weather and protest du jour versus feminism as a social-political-legal movement for the liberation of all peoples from the oppressive systems.

The problem with commodity feminism through these kinds of fashion choices is that by themselves they are faux, artificial and false advertising. And, sometimes it is even anti-feminist. The “feminist-inspired” marketing/consumption that has permeated mainstream culture at this moment has the capacity to actually undermine feminist goals, working against them and diluting them. This kind of feminism might be good for the market, but not necessarily for those who should be benefitting from feminism.

Some of the problems with commodity feminism are baked into our capitalist system where supply chains and product origins are intentionally obscured. Many of these products (as with other faux trends) are made by women and young girls in the Global South for shockingly little compensation, in dangerous factories, and under tyrannical management. In case it is not obvious, it’s not feminist to support this exploitation. And more companies than we know sell these products and then use our financial support to perpetuate discrimination of people of all genders through unfair or unsafe working conditions, inequitable pay, no access to family leave, or unchecked harassment. Also not feminist.

In some cases, feminist swag is totally fine, and I am perfectly willing to buy it, gift it, and don it myself (after doing a little digging about where it is made and who made it). The key difference is that these items are not my feminism in and of themselves; they don’t replace the work I do as a feminist in the struggle for liberation, equity and justice.

Here’s where I believe many of us go astray. We are feminists! We do agree with movements for equity and justice for people of all genders and all races and all nationalities and all abilities and all religions. This is why we buy the swag—it represents us and we want the world to know it. But for too many, it stops there, and it becomes apolitical, devoid of action. And right now, in this historical moment, we all need to join the struggles for justice—not just brand ourselves for self-serving satisfaction.

Being feminist and doing feminist work is quite different than merely signaling feminism, or, for that matter, signaling other justice-oriented symbols, like pride rainbows, without actually doing anything for/with the LGBTQ+ community.

We must walk the talk, show up and take risks for (and with) others. Those of us with multiple advantages because of our skin color or social class or education or sexual orientation (etc.), we have to do those things even when (or especially when) there’s no trendy shirt or blingy phone case to show for it.

So for me, I don’t participate in commodity feminism in lieu of having difficult conversations with those who believe women shouldn’t make decisions about their reproductive health; or writing an email to my congressional representatives to demand hate crime legislation for South Carolina; or participating in a peaceful protest for increased protections of immigrants; or calling out a homophobic remark I hear on the sidewalk. We can’t be “empowered” through consumption anyway. I’m not suggesting that we can’t feel more self-assured and beautiful and confident when wearing certain things. But that isn’t actually empowerment; a stunning outfit is not itself access to systems of power, equity, and justice. That is faux empowerment (but that’s for another installment of this column).

And, unless you are supporting a clothing line, for example, that explicitly and authentically promotes equity and justice, you really can’t empower others through your own consumption. That takes some work, some investigating and some ethical choices, all of which the market makes difficult to do.

We can’t buy ourselves out of patriarchy or white supremacy. We can, however, reject faux feminism by authentically participating in feminist movements for progress and liberation, whether or not we have the t-shirt to prove it.