Guest Post: Wrong Colours And Outlandish Hats – Our World Leaders And Their Wardrobe Woes
The one thing I did not want to do is open this article with the words “as a fashion designer”; but, alas, I think that I need to be excused as, in this instance, I have no other choice but to start with it.
As a fashion designer who is often engaged with the privilege of creating work for national projects, including operatic productions, national festivals and sometimes dressing the odd politician, I often have to take a back seat and refrain from commenting on the flavoursome things I witness happening all around me. Luckily, for President Myriam Spiteri Debono’s swearing in, I was not commissioned to design anything, so I had some time to sit back and, quite literally, enjoy the show.
I need to clarify that this article was dreamt up before yesterday’s events, but rather upon seeing this photo from the night before of some of the leading women in our political landscape.
In a world where diplomacy often hinges on the subtle nuances of attire, Maltese politicians (and infamously mothers of the bride) continue to stumble into the sartorial spotlight with all the grace of a drunk trying to navigate a high-wire act. From wrong colours to outlandish hats, it seems that no summit or state dinner is safe from a fashion disaster.
I think it is at this point that I have to underline that I absolutely adored President Spiteri Debono’s outfit; the beautiful cut, the Fez-inspired hat (not a pillbox, but a Fez, which felt strangely Maltese—is it because of the Arabic flavour to our DNA?) and the length. It is probably the best any president has ever looked. (Sorry, Agatha).
But there was one “problem”.
Modern day elegance. But can you spot the "problem"?
Heads of state cannot wear a black outfit for a state event without a touch of colour.
There are moments when this rule can, and needs to be, broken, like during an audience with the pope or a state funeral.
I would agree that the international state of affairs calls for a state of mourning, but unfortunately none of the female MPs and spouses of MPs I have seen wearing black has admitted that this is the reason for their sartorial choices, nor did they admit that their point of reference was actually Christina Hendricks in ‘Mad Men’.
This is obviously rich coming from me; I strut around in heels and attend morning weddings dressed up as a Victorian hearse driver ready to pile up bodies of consumption victims onto a wagon. But this is not about me; it is about the political message an outfit sends, and what a colour of an outfit and the choice of headwear can do to the powers of the imagination. This comes from a belief that just as what we say is political so is what we wear and we need our leaders to understand that this is a duty and not just a privilege.
What are the three sacrosanct codes? Let’s break them down.
Do I have to wear a hat?
I get asked this question so much, so let’s put an end to it once and for all: mother knows best. My sister got married on a hot September Sunday morning. The humidity was unbearable, the sangria was boiling, the Cuban band was loud, and there were a couple of chickens running around making sure the heat was accompanied by a certain musky smell. It was one of the happiest days of my life and, for most guests, everything was essentially perfect—except from one thing. My mother refused to wear a hat.
My take on it? If it is not a British high society wedding, or a day in the sun at the Ascot, it is completely fine to not give into the pressure. “But the mother of the groom is wearing a hat!”, many will exclaim, to which my normal answer is, and shall remain: “So what?”.
I think, at this point, we need to slip in the fact that I haven’t seen a nice hat in years—apart from President Spiteri Debono’s, of course. I really wish all the female MPs at Saint John’s Co-Cathedral called her up for advice—the pomp, the pageantry, the ruffles and, finally, the Christmas hamper bows.
One thing I sometimes tell clients is that if their husbands are not wearing a top hat, they really need not worry. Leave those fascinators at home.
More black headpieces & hats
Beading for a morning event?
The thought of most beaded gowns sends shivers down my spine. It is not about whether beading is allowed but, rather, what kind and amount of beading looks good. Even though it is generally a faux-pas, I loved President Spiteri Debono’s beaded ensemble. It did not look too much like evening wear as there were no mirror-back rhinestones, no plastic beads, no sequins—just glass jets. I might be a hypocrite here, but I loved it.
ELEGANZA.
Toe cleavage?
In writing this I would like to avoid all accusations that women are being unfairly judged in comparison to the other sex based on what they wear and how they wear it. I am not nearly as uninspired by the suits we see our (male) leaders wearing as I am by their politics, words and actions.
I am speaking about the women on our television screens because it is precisely in them that I am seeking inspiration. I grew up in a house where my mother always accompanied, quietly and ceremoniously, a father who was a member of parliament for twenty-three years. Every decision she always made was not only seen as an extension of his politics but more so an expression of the respect that she, as an individual, sought to show in any particular circumstance. This was her political choice, and I actually have always admired her for it.
On a less sombre note, she always reiterated that, under no circumstance, would she ever wear a peep toe shoe–ever. A detail I wish some of yesterday’s attendees would pick up on.
I don't want to make this political, but here is a photo of Madame President Metsola and Ukko Metsola at the coronation of King Charles II. No hat, although a flying saucer is creeping up on her from behind.
In a world where every handshake and photo-op is scrutinised, one would think that world leaders (the elected, and their spouses) would exercise a bit more caution when it comes to their wardrobe choices.
Alas, it seems that the allure of making a statement often outweighs the need for sartorial sensibility.
So the next time you find yourself debating whether or not to wear that silly hat you have in your wardrobe, or questioning whether black is appropriate, imagine yourself face to face with a Maltese political leader to feel less guilty. After all, who knows what they will be wearing next?
I wish to take this opportunity to wish Madam President a fruitful, inspiring term. We all know we need it.
Lovin Malta is open to interesting, compelling guest posts from third parties. These opinion pieces do not necessarily reflect the views of the company. Submit your piece at [email protected]