In Netflix’s acclaimed geopolitical drama, “The Diplomat,” a memorable scene from Season 2 features Allison Janney’s character, the U.S. Vice President, offering pointed advice to Keri Russell’s character, the American Ambassador to Britain and a rising political star, regarding her attire.
As Janney’s character bluntly explains, “It’s a visual world.” She highlights the stark reality that “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.”
Her advice then presents two main paths: “You’ve got a couple of choices. 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.”
The Vice President’s gaze then falls to Ambassador Russell’s black trousers, noting a quirky detail: a paper clip used in place of a conventional zipper.
Her parting shot is a pointed critique: “It’s best to look as though the care of your trousers wasn’t more than you could manage,” implying that even minor sartorial missteps can be a liability. The image accompanying this moment shows Keri Russell and Allison Janney in a neutral, serious ensemble, aptly reflecting the ‘seriously neutral’ tone discussed.
This conversation offers a remarkably candid take on the intersection of attire and political perception. However, by Season 3, Janney’s character has ascended to the presidency following a tragic event, and Russell’s character is now both Second Lady and Ambassador. Despite their elevated roles, both consistently appear in strikingly neutral pantsuits, reserving other styles mostly for formal evening events. This raises a crucial question: Is this muted, “realistic” approach truly what we desire from our cinematic portrayals of female presidents?
Given that these fictional figures represent our only vision of women in the Oval Office, their visual presentation carries significant weight.
Dressing the President: Crafting an Image of Power
Meredith Conroy, a political science professor at California State University, San Bernardino, and author of “Masculinity, Media and the American Presidency,” emphasizes the profound significance of these fictional depictions. “Because there are no real world examples of female presidents in America, these fictional portrayals and the societal norms they express are incredibly important,” she states.
Far from being mere entertainment, these shows play a vital role in normalizing the concept of a female president, transforming an often-unimagined scenario into a plausible reality. Lilly J. Goren, a political science professor at Carroll University and editor of “Women and the White House: Gender, Popular Culture, and Presidential Politics,” notes that such portrayals “open up your thinking.”
This impact is not merely theoretical; a 2006 poll by the Kaplan Thaler Group revealed that after the first season of “Commander in Chief,” starring Geena Davis as a female president, 58 percent of viewers felt “more likely to take seriously the idea of a female presidential candidate.” An accompanying image shows Geena Davis in a dark suit, embodying the ‘one dark suit after another’ style.
Images further illustrate this trend with Cherry Jones being sworn in as president in “24: Redemption,” Robin Wright Penn as president in “House of Cards,” and Ms. Janney being sworn in as president in “The Diplomat,” all adhering to a formal, dark attire.
This trend suggests a prevailing Hollywood notion: when envisioning a woman president, she is almost invariably clad in a dark suit. This uniform choice is evident across various productions: Cherry Jones’s presidential inauguration in “24” featured a black pantsuit; Sela Ward wore a black suit upon assuming office in “Independence Day: Resurgence”; Robin Wright Penn’s presidential tenure in later seasons of “House of Cards” was marked by black military-inspired suits with epaulets and high collars; and, fittingly, Allison Janney’s character in “The Diplomat” also takes her oath in a black pantsuit.
Jenny Gering, Season 3’s costume designer, explains her rationale: “The main goal was to keep things as grounded in reality as possible.” She elaborates that “Sometimes color can pull focus, and it can distract. And in politics, nobody wants to alienate, offend, draw attention in that way.”
Gering also reveals her avoidance of bright red, a color sometimes seen on female presidents in shows like “Red, White & Royal Blue” and “Don’t Look Up.” She notes its strong association with a particular political movement, rendering it “too polarizing” for the desired neutral image. Another image features Keri Russell alongside the British Prime Minister, her character’s wardrobe being described as simply ‘black suit. Every now and then, a navy suit.’
An additional visual shows President Grace Penn at a black tie dinner, in an elegant yet subdued formal dress.
Intriguingly, many of the “plain” suits in “The Diplomat” were meticulously custom-made. While some individual pieces, like Ms. Russell’s silky button-ups (Saint Laurent, Nili Lotan) and Ms. Janney’s tops (Akris, Vince) or a modified Jenny Packham dress, were sourced, Gering often found herself designing from scratch. This suggests a perceived absence of readily available, “perfect” political attire for women.
Gering’s underlying philosophy for the presidential wardrobe was to make her appear “one of the boys.” She explains, “She’s in the room with men. She has to play on their field,” highlighting a common belief that women in power must conform to masculine presentation norms.
But this raises a critical counter-question: rather than merely playing on their field, shouldn’t the ultimate goal be to redefine the field entirely?
Breaking Out of the ‘Pantsuit Trap’
In reality, many prominent women in politics have begun to challenge these restrictive sartorial norms. Think of Angela Merkel’s signature brightly colored jackets, Hillary Clinton’s iconic white pantsuit that became a symbol of unity, or Kamala Harris’s distinctive pussy-bow blouses. It is, therefore, disheartening to see the wardrobes of their fictional counterparts so consistently distilled to their most generic forms. An image of Angela Merkel in a bright jacket among men in dark suits exemplifies this contrast.
Further images show Kamala Harris in a pussy-bow blouse, a signature of her presidential campaign, and Hillary Clinton in her trademark white pantsuit.
Professor Goren observes that “If you start looking at the presentation of women in power, a lot of it is done in a very masculinized way.” She argues this trend “creates a small box,” essentially dictating “This is what a woman has to do to be taken seriously.”
Conroy concurs, noting that a significant majority — she estimates 80 percent — of fictional female presidents ascend to the role “by default,” often after serving as Vice President. This pattern suggests a reluctance to imagine women winning the top office outright.
It implies, she adds, that audience acceptance of a woman president is contingent upon her accidental rise to power and her adherence to “traditional notions of masculine leadership,” including its visual aspects.
However, Conroy points out that scripted television and film have the potential to “subvert existing stereotypes” and “tell stories where the assumptions in the real world are turned on their head,” offering a powerful tool for cultural change. An image of Julia Louis-Dreyfus in a bright sheath dress for ‘Veep’ breaks this unspoken code.
Another visual depicts Viola Davis as a president in ‘G20’ wearing a striking red satin gown, which transforms into a combat uniform, highlighting a different approach to power and femininity.
Recent examples offer glimpses of a more imaginative future. Issa Rae’s President Barbie, with her vibrant pink jumpsuit and prom dress, or Viola Davis’s president in “G20,” whose elegant red satin gown transforms into a combat uniform amidst a crisis, dare to suggest that power and femininity are not mutually exclusive. Even Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s character in “Veep” provided a refreshing departure with her diverse array of colorful sheath dresses.
Hollywood, at its core, is a dream factory, capable of expanding our collective imagination and allowing us to envision new possibilities. Once imagined, these possibilities can become expectations. The true potential isn’t just in depicting a female president, but in showing that a woman in power could, as Ms. Conroy suggests, “do it differently”—and that includes her wardrobe.