Sunday night’s Academy Awards are sure to be full of the typical award show antics: Leo will most likely leave empty handed, J. Law might take a tumble up the stairs and the red carpet will most definitely be laced with the terribly redundant undertones of sexism.
Issues of inequality, whether rooted in the lack of diversity on the nominations list or Hollywood’s whitewashing, have already been publicized in headlines and discussions within the film industry.
But the age-old “What are you wearing?” red carpet standard isn’t something of a news-maker — it’s a familiar face that only reinforces the sexist treatment of Hollywood actresses.
Complaints about this question usually stem from the prioritization of an actress’s appearance over her nominated work, thus insinuating a woman’s career isn’t as important as a man’s.
Of course, viewers should continue to criticize this notion for carrying on the tradition of gender inequality in film, but this Sunday we should also question if appreciating red carpet style is truly sexist or actually a step of female empowerment. More often than not, we’ll find that it’s the latter.
Normally, when we see these women, they’re not actually themselves but rather the characters we’ve grown to love on the silver screen. When “Steve Jobs” hit theaters last October, we weren’t watching Kate Winslet direct the marketing and sales of Apple and NeXT — we were watching her character, Joanna Hoffman.
But for this one night, our eyes aren’t on the characters but the humans who portray them. The financial, physical, mental and emotional efforts of the many individuals who create our entertainment are finally celebrated only for the reason we watch them: their work.
And in the most tactile form, an actress’s dress does exactly that. Through silks, ruffles, trains and slits, a designer applauds the wearer not for the character she plays, but for the woman she is and the work she has done.
How much can Oscars style say?
In 2014, when Lupita Nyong’o won Best Actress for “12 Years a Slave,” she made her first walk down the red carpet in pleats of light blue silk and a shimmering trim. The dress’s whimsical splash clearly announced her arrival to the game of film, but also celebrated her Kenyan heritage, a significant detail when a Kenyan woman takes home a golden statuette.
In 1997, Nicole Kidman sported a chartreuse Christian Dior gown that hugged her silhouette and slit at the upper thigh. Choosing to work with new kid John Galliano for a designer and wear an unconventional green for a color palette was a tricky maneuver, but it showed the dominance Kidman used in her career.
Audrey Hepburn won Best Actress for “Roman Holiday” at the 1954 awards while wearing a lace Givenchy dress featuring a high boat neck and thin belted waist. Though costume designers consistently scrutinized Hepburn for her “undesirable” physique, Hubert de Givenchy’s work showed off her small frame to celebrate a different version of beauty and of the typical Hollywood actress.
In these cases and many others, a woman’s fashion was a commemorative effort directly in line with the purpose of an awards show. If red carpet interviews and journalists choose to discuss those efforts, then they also become part of honoring the work and character of these actresses.
But when we neglect this element of female empowerment, we are neglecting a chance to publicly value the women who make up Hollywood.
The film industry’s issues with equality still vitally need correction, but the sartorial manifestation of an actress’s recognition has no place on that list.
bsaggese@indiana.edu
