There’s a memorable scene in Season 2 of Netflix’s sharp geopolitical drama, ‘The Diplomat,’ where the American vice president, played by Allison Janney, offers some pointed advice on attire to Keri Russell’s character, the American ambassador to Britain and aspiring veep.
“It’s a visual world,” Janney’s character declares. “No one will read your policy papers. Best case a sound bite will go viral once a year. Meanwhile your face will appear in the media an average of 12,000 times a day. Every classroom in America, every embassy, will hang your picture on the wall.”
She elaborates on the choices: “You’ve got a couple of options. Wear a suit like the military wears a uniform. Disappear. Hide the individual behind the duty to serve. Or get a gimmick. Blond bob. Red lipstick. Pins like Albright, collars like R.B.G. Glasses. A shorthand so people see what you stand for and little girls dress like you for Halloween.”
Then, her gaze settles on Ms. Russell’s black pants, where a paper clip stands in for a zipper.
“It’s best to look as though the care of your trousers wasn’t more than you could manage,” she dryly remarks.
In a scene from ‘The Diplomat,’ a man hangs a framed photograph of the new vice president, played by Rufus Sewell. Next to it is a photograph of Allison Janney as president.
Allison Janney as President Grace Penn, takes her place at the top of the executive pyramid in ‘The Diplomat.’
This exchange is arguably one of the most realistic portrayals of fashion’s role in politics seen on screen. Yet, in Season 3, with Ms. Janney now elevated to the presidency and Ms. Russell as Second Lady and Ambassador, both women predominantly appear in strikingly neutral pantsuits (outside of formal events). This raises a crucial question: Is this ‘grounded reality’ truly what we need from our fictional female presidents?
After all, these are often the only female presidents we get to see. Their on-screen appearance in such a powerful role truly matters.
Dressing the President
“Because there are no real world examples of female presidents in America, these fictional portrayals and the societal norms they express are incredibly important,” explains Meredith Conroy, a professor of political science at California State University, San Bernardino, and author of “Masculinity, Media and the American Presidency.”
While they might seem like mere entertainment, these portrayals normalize an otherwise unimaginable narrative. “It opens up your thinking,” adds Lilly J. Goren, a professor of political science at Carroll University in Waukesha, Wis., and an editor of “Women and the White House: Gender, Popular Culture, and Presidential Politics.”
Indeed, a 2006 poll by the Kaplan Thaler Group found that after the first season of “Commander in Chief,” starring Geena Davis as the president, 58 percent of viewers reported being “more likely to take seriously the idea of a female presidential candidate.”
Geena Davis and Donald Sutherland in a movie still from ‘Commander in Chief.’
One dark suit after another: Geena Davis as the president in the series “Commander in Chief.”
Hollywood has consistently depicted women presidents in dark suits. Cherry Jones wore a black pantsuit when sworn in as president in ’24.’ Sela Ward took office in ‘Independence Day: Resurgence’ in a black suit. Even Robin Wright Penn, as president in ‘House of Cards,’ favored black military-style suits. And, true to form, Ms. Janney’s character in ‘The Diplomat’ is sworn in wearing a black pantsuit.
Cherry Jones being sworn in as president in ’24: Redemption.’ Robin Wright Penn, as president in ‘House of Cards.’
On a large news screen, a man in a black robe administers the presidential oath of office to Ms. Janney’s character.
Ms. Janney being sworn in as president in ‘The Diplomat.’
“The main goal was to keep things as grounded in reality as possible,” says Jenny Gering, the costume designer for Season 3. “Sometimes color can pull focus, and it can distract. And in politics, nobody wants to alienate, offend, draw attention in that way.”
This is also why Ms. Gering generally steers clear of bright red, despite its occasional appearance on screen for female presidents in films like “Red, White & Royal Blue” and “Don’t Look Up.” She believes it has become too polarizing due to its strong association with certain political movements.
In a still from ‘The Diplomat,’ Mr. Kinnear and Ms. Russell pose shaking hands.
Keri Russell in “The Diplomat” with Rory Kinnear as the British prime Minister. Ms. Russell’s character describes her wardrobe as “black suit. Every now and then, a navy suit.”
In a scene from ‘The Diplomat,’ Ms. Janney as the president sits at a formal dinner in an off-the-shoulder black dress embellished with shiny bits. She smiles enigmatically.
President Grace Penn at a black tie dinner hosted by the prime minister.
Most of the seemingly simple suits featured in ‘The Diplomat’ were custom-made. While some individual pieces, like silky button-ups by Saint Laurent and Nili Lotan or Akris and Vince tops, were purchased, Ms. Gering found that the ideal political outfit had to be specifically designed and created.
Ms. Gering’s vision was for the president to appear like “one of the boys. She’s in the room with men. She has to play on their field.”
But shouldn’t the ultimate goal be to redefine that field entirely?
Breaking Out of the Pantsuit Trap
In the real world, many women in politics have started to challenge these narrow expectations, from Angela Merkel’s signature brightly colored jackets to Hillary Clinton’s impactful white pantsuit and Kamala Harris’s distinctive pussy-bow blouses. It’s disheartening to see the wardrobes of their fictional counterparts reduced to such basic common denominators.
Angela Merkel, in a red jacket, stands prominently among many world leaders in dark suits. They are posed on tiered steps before a light blue background.
Angela Merkel, standing out by not wearing black, at a G20 family photo in 2017.
Kamala Harris in one of the pussy-bow blouses she made a signature in her presidential campaign. Hillary Clinton in a white pantsuit that became a of trademark during her presidential campaign.
Ms. Goren points out that fictional portrayals of women ascending to the presidency often do so by default, typically after being vice president. She estimates that perhaps 80 percent of on-screen female presidents come into power by accident.
It’s as if, she suggests, viewers are only meant to accept a woman president if she takes a back door into the role and “upholds these traditional notions of masculine leadership” in appearance and manner.
However, she notes, “the representation of women in politics in scripted TV or film can subvert existing stereotypes. It can tell stories where the assumptions in the real world are turned on their head.”
In a still from ‘Veep,’ Ms. Louis-Dreyfus, in a bright blue sheath, stands at a podium mounted with the seal of the president of the United States.
Julia Louis-Dreyfus, breaking the unspoken presidential dress code in ‘Veep.’
In a movie still, Ms. Davis as the president wears a slinky red gown as she prepares to fight terrorists.
Viola Davis as a president during a summit dinner that goes badly wrong in ‘G20.’
Recently, Hollywood has edged closer with characters like Issa Rae’s President Barbie, sporting a pink jumpsuit and matching prom dress, or Viola Davis’s president in ‘G20,’ whose caped red satin gown cleverly transforms into a combat uniform. These costumes powerfully convey that strength and femininity are not opposing forces. Even Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s character in ‘Veep’ offered a refreshing alternative with her vibrant collection of sheath dresses.
Hollywood, the world’s dream factory, has the power to stretch our imaginations and make us envision what could be possible. Once we can envision something, we begin to expect it. The opportunity isn’t just to suggest that a female presidency is possible; it’s to suggest, as Ms. Conroy highlights, that a female president would “do it differently.” And, crucially, dress the part, inspiring a whole new set of expectations.