G lenn Close took the podium at the Democratic National Convention on the evening of July 26, in a spectacular silver and white embroidered pant suit to introduce our country's nine female Democratic senators.
It was a proud moment, indeed, for women passionate about politics, a relatively forgettable moment for women passionate about fashion (save for Close's stellar wardrobe selection), but an altogether frustrating moment for women passionate about both politics and fashion - women like me.
The notion of uniting these women on stage was nothing less than inspiring, considering the contribution they make to our country, and the possibilities their careers represent for politically-minded young women everywhere. Yet, as they lined up on stage in their primary-colored business suits, I couldn't help but feel that something very important was missing.
The Democratic Party would credit its female senators as being some of the country's brightest, most daring, intelligent, forward-thinking individuals in politics, yet where are the clothing choices that reflect those qualities?
Why - especially in the comfort of roughly 30,000 of their biggest fans with not a critic in sight - under, quite literally the spotlight of Democracy, - were such liberal women hiding behind such conservative clothing? I'm not talking about showing a little leg. I'm talking about showing a little charisma, a little star quality.
While these women have undoubtedly persevered, in spite of their relatively bland wardrobes, it was painful to witness firsthand the absence of fashion in politics. Somehow Close (who averages perfectly within the age range of the senators she introduced) managed an outfit that was at once glamorous, feminine and completely appropriate.
It was as if she, by profession, was entitled to this superb interpretation of the ancient pantsuit, while the other nine women, by profession, were slaves to a political dress code that sought to make them virtually indistinguishable from their male counterparts (save for an occasional knee-length skirt).
These days, "professional" in the politician's fashion vocabulary seems frighteningly synonymous with "masculine." In fact, not since the darling Jackie O. - the one true ambassador of fashion to politics - have we seen political wherewithal teamed with, say, Halston capes and Gucci clutches and elegant French twists rather than boyish coifs.
Granted, not all women in politics are blessed with Jackie's good looks, but her convictions about her image were as strong as her convictions about politics. And that is what I am sad to see gone.
Yet somehow, while politics does not seem to be embracing fashion, the fashion industry seems to never be without politics. Recently, both the Bush and Kerry daughters have appeared in spreads in numerous fashion magazines, including Vogue.
Fashion and music mogul Sean "P. Diddy" Combs has been on a year-long voter registration campaign aimed at young adults. At both the Democratic and Republican conventions, as well as at the MTV Video Music Awards, he drew tons of media attention wearing his infamous "Vote or Die" t-shirt, the motto of his campaign.
And you can bet that politics sat front row during September's Fashion Week in New York City - an industry event where the best designers from around the world invade Bryant Park to present their highly-anticipated spring collections.
Kenneth Cole, known for his politically driven ad campaigns, included a screen above the runway of his show that flashed stats like this one: "Seventy eight percent of Americans can name a supermodel. Forty eight percent can name the vice president."
So, what do Mr. Cole's facts tell us? (Sociology majors, don't answer. We don't have time.) Politics is having a fashion emergency. And since expecting our male politicians to abandon their beloved wool navy suits is as reasonable as, say, asking Gucci to denounce the little black dress, we can only hope this problem will be solved one accessory at a time.
This message seems to have reached President Bush and John Kerry just in time for tomorrow's first presidential debate. Lately, Bush has spiced up his suit with French cuffs and gold cuff links - a look the president hopes will make him appear, well, presidential.
You may have also noticed the yellow LiveStrong bracelet situated on Bush's opponent's left wrist. For Kerry, this small rubber creation not only demonstrates support of Lance Armstrong's charity foundation, but makes him seem hip and athletic.
In fashion and politics, anything is possible. Hillary Clinton, for example, may be only hem lengths away from a presidential nomination of her own one day. This would be a huge step for woman-kind. Small steps in fashion can help.
