Dress Codes: How the pussy-bow blouse became a political staple for Kamala Harris and other powerful women
Though the term was popularized in the 20th century (“Fashion calls them ‘pussy-cat bows’ as they fluff out most femininely from high-rising necklines,” read a 1955 article in the Newburgh News), the idea of attaching bows to blouses or bodices is far older. Sometimes the flourish is called the Lavalière tie, after Duchess Louise de La Valliére — King Louis XIV’s “official” mistress. According to an account on the history of ties, the duchess was so taken by the king’s cravat that she fashioned one herself out of ribbon.
The duchess could never have guessed that, three centuries later, a generation of professional women would be using her sartorial experiment in a myriad of ways to command respect and convey important — and sometimes nuanced — messages.
The power of the pussy-bow
Today, it’s a favorite of Vice President Kamala Harris, who has worn pussy-bow blouses throughout her presidential campaign: From the Democratic National Conference in August, to her televised presidential debate with Donald Trump and starry sit-down with Oprah in September. Most recently, she wore one during her “60 Minutes” interview with Bill Whitaker where she tackled questions about foreign policy, the economy and her gun — the sharp lines of her elegant, plum-hued suit softened by a blouse in the same color.
While the pussy-bow has quickly become something of a uniform for Harris, it was in the mid-century that it was first established as a wardrobe staple for a new wave of working women.
Vice President Kamala Harris wore a plum-hued pussy-bow shirt to speak with 60 Minutes correspondent Bill Whitaker.
From CBS
Between 1950 and 1970, the proportion of married women aged 35 to 44 participating in the US workforce rocketed from 25% to 46%. The question of what they should wear was both a genuine anxiety and, for some, a gap in the market. In his hugely popular book “The Women’s Dress for Success,” published in 1977, author John T. Malloy recommended neck-tie blouses as a non-negotiable uniform for the ambitious everywoman. They should be worn with skirt suits, he added, since pants were not office-appropriate.
A slew of newly employed women in the ‘70s and ‘80s agreed, and the pussy-bow blouse’s sudden ubiquity in offices cemented it as a symbol of corporate, second-wave feminism. But female empowerment was largely left in the lobby. Women were in the workplace, yes, but they weren’t considered equal. Men often had rigid expectations on how their new female colleagues should dress, as Malloy had demonstrated. In 1973, President Richard Nixon chided reporter Helen Thomas for wearing slacks, saying he preferred dresses.
The garment was even spotted on the runway during Prada's show at Milan Fashion Week this September.
Ik Aldama/picture alliance/Sipa USA
Femininity in a man’s world
By resembling a traditional necktie, the long tail of a pussy-bow shirt’s Lavallière signaled assimilation without assuming equivalence. “We used to dress in suits with a skirt and a jacket, with a button down shirt and a little bowtie,” said Meg Whitman, one of Proctor and Gamble’s first ever female executives, in the 2013 PBS documentary “Makers: Women Who Make America,” adding: “That was our interpretation of a man’s tie… It was our attempt to be feminine but fit into a male world.”
Even today, after decades of improved gender rights in the workplace, the pussy-bow persists as a safe wardrobe staple for high-powered women. “It’s a way to say, ‘I’m a professional,’ and soften it,” New York-based womenswear designer Nina McLemore told CNN over Zoom. “If you’re too ‘masculine,’ then you’re seen as a threat,” added McLemore, who has dressed female politicians from Hilary Clinton and Elizabeth Warren to Democratic Rep. Maxine Waters and Supreme Court Justice Elena Kagan. “You can’t get rid of a million years (of conditioning) in a century.”
Related articleDress Codes: How did plaid become popular for school uniforms?
Sartorial subversion
The pussy-bow has also been interpreted as a statement-maker beyond the workplace. In 2016, observers speculated that Melania Trump had worn a hot pink Gucci Lavallière shirt as a response to her husband’s infamous gloat about “grabbing women by the pussy,” which had come to light just days earlier.
Kate Moss opted for a white polka dot pussy-bow while testifying at her ex-boyfriend Johnny Depp’s defamation trial in 2022; while in 2018, Sara Danius — the first woman to be appointed head the Nobel Prize-awarding body, the Swedish Academy — wore a white silk pussy-bow to a press conference following her controversial dismissal over the academy’s handling of a sexual misconduct investigation. (The husband of an academy member had been accused of serial sexual abuse with incidents ranging across 20 years). Women across Sweden protested the decision, arguing it was unfair to punish Danius for a man’s crimes and wore similar neck-ties in an act of solidarity.
Melania Trump wore a pink Gucci pussy bow blouse at the presidential debate at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri on October 9, 2016.
Rick Wilking/Pool/AFP/Getty Images
People gather at Stortorget square in Stockholm showing support for Sara Danius by wearing make-shift pussy-bow blouses with scarves and neck-ties.
Jonas Ekstromer/AFP/Getty Images
“Her signature blouse went viral… The garment (became) a feminist symbol,” Jenny Sundén, a gender studies professor at Södertörn University in Sweden, told CNN in a phone call. “People even took it to the streets, this pussy-bow blouse manifestation outside the Stock Exchange building in Stockholm, where the Academy convened.”
Despite the differing contexts, it could be argued that Trump, Moss and Danius used the pussy-bow’s intrinsic femininity to remind the world of the difference between them and the men they were being associated with. Their clothes said that they were women — serious yet warm, responsible yet approachable — who could be trusted.
A ‘loaded garment’
But still, the pussy-bow blouse continues to divide opinion. Is it an emblem of female liberation or an outdated reminder of the pressure women face to perform femininity even in spaces where they are supposedly equal?
“Just because women wore it as part of a professional wardrobe or uniform, doesn’t in and of itself make it feminist,” said Sundén, who calls the blouse a “loaded garment.” Unconvinced by its supposed feminist credentials, Sundén says the shirt is at once innocent and flirtatious, as it “conceals but also accentuates the body of the wearer.”
“I think as far as feminist symbols go, it’s an odd choice,” she said. It’s also, she added, a bit silly: “It’s a ridiculous garment, it’s absurd in a way. But it’s also a lot of fun.”
McLemore agrees. “I think it makes you smile,” she said. “I was thinking about the women I knew that were very successful in corporate America, CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, and they all had one characteristic in common, which was a sense of humor.”
