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By Tanisha C. Ford | with thanks to NewBlackMan
Wednesday, September 12, 2012.
In
recent years, appropriate attire for professors has been a hotly
debated topic. Scholars from various disciplines have offered instruction, fashion tips andpersonal narratives about the importance of dress. In response to my article,Haute Couture In The Ivory Tower,
professors of color posted on my Facebook and twitter pages, recounting
their own fun and sometimes troubling stories related to dress in the
academy.
The
lively conversations in the social mediasphere motivated me to put on
my “Oprah” hat (a stylish Chanel one of course!). I interviewed several
female and male hip hop generation professors who make it werk (Tim Gunn
voice) everyday on campuses across the country. Yet, their stylish
choices and intellectual talents do not immunize them from scrutiny and
questions. In fact, my interviews reveal a heightened level of
criticism, shock, and awe particularly directed at women of color
faculty.
Below
are excerpts from some of the interviews I conducted with women
professors of color. Together, these interviews illustrate that studies
on fashion and adornment politics offer a powerful lens through which we
can explore other important issues such as women’s rights, motherhood
and relationship status, pleasure and sexuality, and the politics of
“respectability.”
I asked them the following questions:
- How do you incorporate your personal fashion sense into your professional attire?
-
- Do
you think women and/or men of color in the academy face unique
challenges that are (directly or indirectly) linked to a politics of
dress and adornment?
Dr.
Siobhan Carter-David is an Assistant Professor of History at Southern
Connecticut State University and the curator of “Strong Shoulder:
Revisiting the Women’s Power Suit.”
I
incorporate my personal style into my professional attire by mixing the
moderate (sometimes, even conservative) with the extreme. Exposed
tattoos are coupled with silk dresses, ornate vintage belts and
handbags, and “serious” statement jewelry. I do have to make some small
changes to accommodate my pregnancy. I choose shift dresses, pretty
tunics with tights, and cute fitting blazers (left open) to go along
with my pregnant look. I do think that women and men of color face
unique challenges that are linked to our politics of adornment. Being an
expectant mom does add another dimension to these politics. While I am
not socially conservative, I must admit that I find comfort and security
in prominently displaying my wedding ring(s) while pregnant. It is a
defense mechanism against the prejudices of students, faculty and staff
on campus. I was prejudged during my first pregnancy five years ago. I
am African American, appear several years younger than my actual age (so
I’ve been told), with a style aesthetic that I refuse to give up. In my
students’ eyes, I looked like a “ghetto teenager” since I don’t wear
pumps and pearls. Despite my accomplishments and credentials, I am still
proud to be that girl from the Bronx. But my students’ could not
imagine me as also being a wife, mother, and intellectual. That girl,
they imagine, doesn’t know shit about the social and cultural
implications of [U.S.] Reconstruction.
Dr.
Tiffany Gill is an Associate Professor of History and African and
African Diaspora Studies at the University of Texas at Austin and the
author of the award-winning book Beauty Shop Politics: African American Women’s Activism in the Beauty Industry.
I
focus on wearing pieces that make me feel confident, feminine and
powerful. I focus on bold colors and prints, trendy accessories, classic
staple pieces, and my signature face: dramatic eye makeup and sparkly
lip gloss. When I stand in front of a lecture hall full of sleepy
undergraduates, sit around a conference table during a long faculty
meeting, or give a public lecture on my research, my style allows me to
bring the various aspects of my life together in a way that is
unapologetically me. While
I’ve always been confident in my personal style as a professor, even as
it departs heavily from that of most of my white colleagues, I have
never underestimated the peculiar challenges I have as a young (I got my
first tenure track job at 29) black woman in the academy. I’ve had many
instances, especially early in my career, when students have entered my
classroom looking for the professor and were astonished when they
realized that it was me…As such, I have always known that I have had to
fight to earn the respect that some of my colleagues automatically
receive by virtue of embodying what a “real’ professor looks like…Today I
see scholars of color in my generation flexing our intellectual as well
as aesthetic prowess in unprecedented ways. We have reclaimed the
pleasure of style and have merged it with the rigors of intellectual
pursuit. The academy must be willing to embrace a multiplicity of style
choices as well as intellectual perspectives.
Dr. Asia Leeds is an Assistant Professor of African Diaspora & World Studies at Spelman College.
One
of my friends describes my style as “urban-earthy.” I’ll mix an African
print dress with a black blazer, for example. On days that I wear a
more understated or monochromatic outfit, I’ll incorporate a pop of
color with shoes. Fun, colorful belts are also a way that I bring a
plain black or navy blue dress to life. Needless to say, I need color in
my life! It gives me energy. I don’t like to look like everyone else;
my personal style is an important extension and reflection of my
identity. I am young, a global citizen, and “Afropolitan,” if you will.
During one postdoctoral experience, however, I wore a head wrap to
campus and had a meeting with colleagues that day. I wasn’t trying to
make a statement, but inevitably I did. My colleagues (none were black)
were so intrigued–a little too intrigued for my taste–and I felt like
they were exoticizing me, as I felt they had with my previous hairstyle
and jewelry choices. They always reacted in seemingly positive and
excited (and anthropological!) ways, but I don’t feel comfortable having
SO MUCH attention on what I am wearing, especially when we should be
discussing research and ideas! The best thing about academia is that you
can define “professional” for yourself. Now that I’m teaching at an
HBCU and a women’s college, I do feel like I have to present myself as a
role model, in terms of fashion, feminism, and as a ‘natural hair
ambassador.’ I want students to take note of how Afros, African prints,
etc. can look professional.
Dr.
Treva Lindsey is an Assistant Professor of Women’s and Gender Studies
at the University of Missouri who lectures on hip hop soul and black
women’s sexual politics.
I
proudly identify as a “single black female addicted to retail!” (Thanks
Ye!)…One of my many nicknames, Dr. Diva, conveys a sense of the
connection I make between my personal fashion sense and my professional
attire. As a self-proclaimed diva, I embrace audacity, timelessness,
sultriness, and an unwavering commitment to feminine artifice…I strive
to feel fully present in my professional attire. More likely than not, I
will have on some fly heels or boots and a perfectly tailored pair of
slacks or a form-fitting knee length dress…On that rare occasion, when I
question if a dress or skirt is appropriate, I tend to go for it. I
write about African American women defying conventions and rejecting
politics of respectability—so why not explore the terrain of defiance
and boldness in my personal-professional style? In addition to the many
challenges people of color in the academy face, we must combat
particular challenges regarding attire and adornment that often inscribe
our experiences. From politics of respectability to controlling images
such as the Jezebel, professors of color navigate a volatile terrain of
self-presentation. Many of the issues we combat entail multiple fronts. I
feel pressure to “dress” professionally, while many of my white male
counterparts do not feel a similar pressure. BUT, if I look “too
fashionable,” questions arise about my commitment to being a
scholar…Ultimately, I know it matters “what we wear,” and yet, the
complexity of politics surrounding how we adorn ourselves continues to
perplex me.
Dr.
Amrita Chakrabarti Myers is an Associate Professor of History at
Indiana University-Bloomington and the author of the award-winning book Forging Freedom: Black Women and the Pursuit of Liberty in Antebellum Charleston.
My
favorite color is red (it’s my “power color”) so I try to incorporate
it (and other, bold hues) into my professional attire in order to give
my teaching outfits a little “pop.” …Many of my outfits are actually
very low-key. I veer toward the classic over the trendy any day, likely a
holdover from my days in investment banking. But, [my outfits] appear
“pulled together” or punched up because I’ve paired a basic skirt or
classic dress with a great pair of patchwork suede boots, for example.
I’ve noticed that many of my older, white colleagues (male and female)
have a somewhat peculiar reaction to my attire, and to the attire of
women of color in general. Their comments have often implied that those
who “look good” must not be terribly bright, or that they are maybe not
as serious about history, or not as intellectual as they are, because
they are too focused on clothing and other “frivolous” matters… On the
flip side, however, if I showed up in the classroom dressed the way many
of my older white colleagues do (particularly the male ones) I would
have an impossible time being treated with respect by my students. Many
of them are already inclined to be disrespectful towards me because I
look young, am female, short in stature, and a person of color. How I
dress thus does matter, and there is clearly a politics of dress. At the
end of the day, I dress for myself, but I am always cognizant that
others are watching.
Dr.
Ebony Utley is an Associate Professor of Communication Studies at
California State University Long Beach and the author of the critically
acclaimed Rap and Religion: Understanding the Gangsta’s God.
My
personal style manifests in my professional attire via period dresses
and heels. Every day of lecture throughout the semester I wear a
different dress so students are shocked when I show up to the final in
jeans. Because students dress increasingly casually, I don’t feel
pressure to suit it up. That would create too much of a division between
me and them. Also, because I teach popular culture classes or courses
with huge popular culture components, I need to look like I know what’s
trendy or I lose my credibility. I often “shop my students.” By that I
mean, take stock in what’s trendy for them and try to incorporate some
of the accessories or styles into my own look so that I can continue to
connect with a younger and younger crowd. I’ve never seen my wardrobe as
a justification for who I am or a justification for my presence in a
certain space. My sartorial choices have always been reflective of my
personal style not others’ expectations of me. And truthfully, those
expectations have always been relatively low—because I look younger than
my age (which is younger than most), and because of my race and gender.
No one expects me to open my mouth and sound smart. I use that to my
advantage, especially when surrounded by strangers… If anything, I think
there are more young professors who aren’t afraid to [express their
personal style] because the penalty for surviving this academic game and
losing yourself is just too high.
These
interviews elucidated the reality that women of color in particular
face complex adornment politics. A Chronicle of Higher Education
article,Professors: Hot At Their Own Risk,
demonstrates the challenges of being an attractive and stylish black,
female academic. Commenters—self-identified as professors—targeted Professor Ebony Utley
who unapologetically stated that she cares about her appearance and
strives to looks nice. They posted insensitive remarks such as, “If this
is what she wears when she lectures then I’m not surprised she is
approached by students,” when responding to Utley’s story about a
student who told her she could “make more money as a high class hooker.”
Another scolded, “We’re not there to be ‘hot.’ We’re there to teach.”
Utley and other women of color aren’t hearing any of this. Instead,
they are continuing to use their personal style to define “appropriate”
and “professional” on their own terms.
***
Tanisha C. Ford,
Ph.D., is an award-winning writer, intellectual, and activist designing
her own brand of “Haute Couture Intellectualism.” She is currently
writing a book, Liberated Threads: Black Women and the Politics of
Adornment. She is an Assistant Professor of Women, Gender, Sexuality
Studies at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst. Follow her on
Twitter @SoulistaPhd.
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