Rethinking power dressing
The very term power dressing, as it was originally conceived, was fraught with biases and took into account the male gaze. Now, there’s the manosphere to contend with, after Trump’s victory which brought like-minded business moguls, led by Elon Musk, to the White House. Even Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg lamented in a podcast how the corporate world has been neutered because of the effects of feminism, calling for a culture that celebrates aggression a bit more: “Masculine energy, I think, is good,” he said to host Joe Rogan, one of the online personalities credited with moving young men toward president Trump in the 2024 election and was a guest at the inauguration just like Musk and Zuckerberg.
If women had to assert their power all throughout history, which was dominated by patriarchy, recent events made it even more urgent, as reflected on the runways where designers are reacting to the dangers of this overblown “masculine energy.” “What kind of femininity can you maintain in this difficult moment?” Miuccia Prada asked backstage at her show in Milan.
Gender politics, of course, has always been at the heart of fashion. Victorian mores dictated that women wear feminine attire of corsets and frills. It was only in the early 19th century when they had tailored garments influenced by men’s fashion, and by the end of that century, the Suffragette Movement turned their suits into symbolic forms of rebellion against restrictive clothing norms, embodying the spirit of defiance and independence. This form of power dressing became more sophisticated with Coco Chanel’s 1925 tweed suit, combining a tight skirt and collarless button up jacket—designed for women’s changing lifestyles as they entered more male-dominated spaces. It helped give them a more “professional” appearance while remaining comfortable and elegant.
Elsa Schiaparelli, a rival of Chanel, gave women power by emphasizing the shoulders in the 1930s. During this decade, British shipping heiress, civil rights activist and poet Nancy Cunard burst into the scene in square-shouldered men’s blazers and motorcycle jackets, accessorized with armfuls of heavy bangles. By the 1940s, this look went mainstream, thanks to Hollywood’s Joan Crawford.
Women, however, still faced discrimination in the workplace, leading to “women’s liberation” in the 1960s, exemplified by Yves Saint Laurent’s 1966 Le Smoking, based on the man’s tuxedo—the first power suit for women with trousers.
It was in the second half of the ’70s when the concept of “power dressing” was made popular by John T. Molloy’s manual, Dress for Success, which prescribed a uniform to help women “acquire authority, respect and power” in the workplace. It was a conservative style derived from the man’s suit with a padded shouldered jacket to de-emphasize the breasts and a skirt replacing the pants. Neutral colors were preferred and jewelry was kept discreet.
Just like the Chanel suit, this allowed women to de-sex their feminine look and have a more masculine appearance in order to be accepted as equals. This was obviously sexist, based on the premise that women dressed up to look sexually appealing and attract a partner. Feminists and Freud have debunked this since both men and women equally enjoy being looked at as well as take pleasure in looking at others, in a sexual context. It was the female body, however, that was overly sexualized culturally.
It was only in the ’80s, when more women established themselves professionally, that a major shift occurred – no more feminized imitations of menswear as suits came in bold colors, typical of women’s fashion, more of a statement than trying to blend in.
Icons like Margaret Thatcher set the rules for a look that was authoritative without losing the feminine touch. Establishing a distinct visual presence helped break glass ceilings, curating their image to be aligned to executive roles.
Designers like Giorgio Armani offered a new power suit with padded shoulders, large lapels, oversized tailoring and statement accessories that screamed “I am woman, hear me roar!”
The last years of the 20th century cemented the trend for feminized power dressing, breaking the cliches associated with the old order, segueing to the new century when office attire is more relaxed and women have more freedom to express individuality, to be more authentic. It has entered a more psychological realm—what makes women feel more comfortable, more themselves. It’s a more confident way of dressing, epitomized by “soft power” that dominates this year’s collections: powerful suiting reimagined in relaxed silhouettes—acknowledging both the masculine and the feminine in a harmonious blend. What’s important is that women are in control, have a choice and have agency over their bodies.
At the recent fall 2025 runways, as if intuitively confronting the manosphere, designers emphasized the female body through power curves. Everything was supersized from shoulders to hips, collars and even frills like ruffles. Instead of aping the male figure, it stands defiantly by exaggerating the hourglass shape, making it a force to contend with, saying “I am woman and can occupy my rightful space.”
In lieu of corsets, however, curves are achieved through a play of proportions and strategic padding: Daniel Roseberry of Schiaparelli appliqued the image of a bustier on the front of a suit with wide sloping shoulders and elongated the hips with hidden puffs of neoprene. At Alaïa, woven tubes widen hips and shoulders, while at Chloe, layers of delicate lace create voluminous peplums.
The terno, our national dress, has proved to be the ultimate in soft power dressing. It always possessed that femininity that reflected the strength of the Filipina who was resilient throughout history—raising a family, joining the workforce and contributing to the growth of the country. It continues to evolve with the times and is now worn with pride, epitomizing the power to beguile, to influence, to make a difference.
