Michelle Obama's looks, from left: Inauguration (January 20, 2009); Healthy-eating program (September
24, 2010); State dinner: China (January 19, 2011) Getty Images (3)
Every first lady makes an impression, whether she means to or not. Some arrive at the White House
already well versed in the sartorial requirements of the job — what Lady Bird Johnson referred to as "the
harness of hairdo and gloves." Others resent the expectations or struggle with the language of imagery
out of insecurity or ambivalence or a failure to grasp why what makes them feel comfortable should be
any business of the public's. Although she finally found her groove in Oscar de la Renta pantsuits, Hillary
Clinton confesses in her memoir, Living History, that she was slow to understand that her appearance
was no longer solely a representation of herself: "I was asking the American people to let me represent
them in a role that has conveyed everything from glamour to motherly comfort."
In Michelle Obama's case, her image has provided a welcome distraction from the challenges and
criticisms her husband faced in his first two years in office. Whereas most First Ladies symbolize an
Administration's psychological subtext, Obama has done the opposite. The Administration muddles along;
the President's popularity dips and dives — Mrs. Obama just puts her best outfit forward. She is as
unflappable running a relay race in a pair of athletic pants as she is standing serenely on the steps of the
North Portico in a glamorous evening gown. And she seems undaunted by risk taking, never plagued by
second guessing, unafraid of making a statement. For the state dinner on Jan. 19 welcoming the President of China, Obama wore a brilliant crimson gown by British designer Sarah Burton of Alexander
McQueen. Although some Seventh Avenue designers expressed disappointment that she didn't go with
an American designer, the First Lady's diplomatic nod to her guest in the chosen color was impossible to
miss.
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Michelle Obama — and it is the essence of her style — is her
ability to finesse the differences between what Eleanor Roosevelt called the person and the persona: the
private self and the projected public image. The effortless way Obama carries herself suggests not only
that she has mastered the art of blending person and persona but also that she has resolved one of the
contradictions that have plagued working women in America for the better part of a century. Which is to
say, the mistaken but deeply entrenched belief that style and substance define two mutually exclusive
paths and that a woman has to choose one or the other.
You can see this contradiction played out in the two approaches First Ladies have taken throughout
history. The style line runs from Dolley Madison to Jackie Kennedy and includes First Ladies who used
style and image to advance their husbands' agendas and cultivate their own influence. The other line
follows the course of 20th century feminism. It runs from Eleanor Roosevelt to Hillary Clinton — those
First Ladies who broke with the traditional limits of the role and threw themselves into the political fray,
testifying at congressional hearings, challenging conventions and championing causes.
Given her widespread reputation as one of the most stylish women ever to inhabit the White House, you
might think Michelle Obama automatically belongs in the Madison-Kennedy lineage. But her background
argues differently. No one can claim that Michelle Obama doesn't know what it's like to work or that she
entered marriage because she didn't get an education and lacked economic power of her own. It is plain
that she has learned as much if not more from the example of Hillary Clinton as from the example of
Jackie Kennedy.
What makes Obama exceptional is that she seems so at home in both camps. So at home that the whole
debate about style and substance suddenly seems passé, an anachronism of the gender wars, a false
dichotomy enforced by narrow-minded men and women at war with themselves. That Michelle Obama
does not see style and substance as an either-or choice is a powerful statement that the underlying
assumptions about women's roles and images have changed. Embodying the confluence of substance
and style, she has helped reconcile the long-standing antagonism between them. She has, in some
sense, made them one and the same.
Betts is the author of Everyday Icon: Michelle Obama and the Power of Style |
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