Why do we still judge women for what they wear?
As a young girl, I never thought much about my body except to police it. I disregarded its discomfort and pain but kept an intense watch on which parts were growing too large or too little. Part of being a girl, it seems, is looking at yourself through the eyes of an outsider.
It’s more of a safety measure than vanity. You watch yourself because someone is always potentially watching you. And if you catch their attention and elicit a catcall, it means you’ve failed.
Author Jude Doyle explained in the book Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers that what makes the patriarchy so effective is its ability to appear "natural." Every attempt to dismantle it only makes it sneakier, operating in overlapping and implicit ways. It often manifests in our daily lives as fear: of being harassed, assaulted, or hurt. “Fear of male violence,” Doyle wrote, “is what reminds women that we are not people yet, and that men are still able to put tight limits on our lives.”
As a result, much of a woman’s public life is underscored by vigilance, by practices so normal we barely think twice about them: going out in pairs, sharing locations, covering up during commutes. The patriarchy thrives by controlling women and fear is among its most effective tools, because it forces us to carry out the patriarchy’s work for it.
This fear is so deeply rooted in our culture, in the same way that the patriarchy is so pervasive that it is shared not just by women but acknowledged by everyone. Just recently, a Facebook post went viral about a woman who received unsolicited comments about her clothing. "Hoy, ma'am! Ang daming tela sa mundo, pero parang kulang pa rin sa'yo!" a dispatcher told her as he laughed. "Kaya madaming nababàstos! Tingnan mo ’yan, parang walang suot! Tapos magrereklamo kung may mangyari sa kanila!"
The statement so clearly recognizes the existence of rape culture and our fear of violence, yet it dismisses them as normal and inevitable. Women are expected to bear the brunt of preventing harassment by dressing more modestly and being better at protecting themselves—all according to the patriarchy’s intricate design.
This is not to say the dispatcher, or anyone who believes in what they said, are themselves the harbingers of women’s assault and harassment. “The impulse to criticize women for their attire, often labeled as ‘immodest,’ stems from a deep-rooted cultural perception of women as objects,” sociologist Eunice Santiago told PhilSTAR L!fe. “This objectification, which frequently involves treating women’s bodies as tools for attracting men, is shaped by societal norms and cultural influences.”
Santiago cited the Philippines’ colonial history as playing a significant role in institutionalizing gender stereotypes. “Spanish colonial ideology, with its patriarchal structures, positioned men as dominant figures and women as subordinate. This system created clear expectations for both genders, with women expected to fulfill specific roles—such as wives, mothers, and homemakers. These gender stereotypes were reinforced by American colonization, which institutionalized them within the education system,” she said.
Santiago added that mass media, incentivized by capitalism, are also often rife with unrealistic beauty standards and sexualized images of women, thus further entrenching our objectification.
Objectification has never been and will never be about clothes; standards of modesty will always shift with the times. It’s about how we see women—and we still debate about it, because the way we see women has not changed.
These forces shape our social norms and trickle down into our own beliefs, infecting how we see and judge the women around us. A catcall is rarely an expression of actual desire but a reminder that every social institution is operating to keep women subjugated. Media’s objectification of women; our refusal to be open about sex because of our conservative culture, making us overly reliant on signals; “boys will be boys” and the lack of accountability among those who perpetuate rape culture—all of these work together, and so a woman’s clothes, though for her is simply her clothes, can be read as a sexual invitation.
Not only are women raised to fear; the people around us, regardless of gender, are conditioned to share the beliefs of the patriarchy. “This cultural conditioning has normalized the expectation that women should conform to specific standards of modesty and attractiveness, often at the expense of their own autonomy, self-expression, and well-being,” said Santiago.
“We are boxed to the belief that women’s bodies are objects meant to please or attract men. We are subjected to this system that gives privilege (to) men or male gaze to sexualize women.”
It explains why it’s common for remarks like “kababae mong tao” to come from both men and women. From an early age, women learn to navigate the world in certain ways to keep themselves safe from unwanted attention. We are subject matter experts, so it can be easy for us to point fingers at fellow women for intentionally taunting men by dressing “provocatively.”
I understand its roots in wanting to protect each other. I can imagine that perhaps the dispatcher described on the viral Facebook post did not think he was doing any harm, but imparting real-world advice. The logic is easy to follow: When you dress appropriately, you don’t get verbally or physically harassed. But this never holds up in real life. Objectification has never been and will never be about clothes; standards of modesty will always shift with the times. It’s about how we see women.
And we still debate about it, the Facebook post garnering almost 40,000 reactions as of writing, because the way we see women has not changed.
Santiago noted that while misogyny and patriarchy are ingrained in us, socialization continues as we grow older—meaning, we can always investigate the values and beliefs we were conditioned to have. “We, especially the youth, have a lot of time to figure out where these sentiments originate and begin to unlearn them. However, focusing solely on our individual experiences is never enough. There has to be systemic change.”
She suggested teaching kids, in schools or in our families, to respect all genders and all forms of gender expression, as well as taking part in movements that advocate for gender equality. “We owe our rights to the activists that continue to give voice to the women’s struggle: to challenge and break away from these gender stereotypes, with the hopes of a more inclusive, safe, and caring society that values women’s contributions beyond their physical appearance and clothing.”
