It's the Senate, Put on a Suit
By Patricia Patnode
Clothing is the language we use to communicate our values and affiliations to the world. Lord Chesterfield, an 18th century British statesman, wrote in his famous guide on gentlemanly behavior, “I cannot help forming some opinion of a man’s sense and character from his dress.”
Senate Majority leader Chuck Schumer recently relaxed the Senate dress code. The media has speculated that this flexibility was granted specifically for Senator John Fetterman, who prefers to wear hoodies and basketball shorts around the Capitol. However, other senators have been spotted on the Senate floor hustling to make a last-minute vote in gym clothes and other odd, unprofessional outfits.
What might Chesterfield say about this decorum change? Perhaps that, “If a man lacks the resolve to attire himself in a coat and trousers, symbolizing his duty to represent the very constituents who entrusted him with the responsibility of governing their nation, then perhaps they ought to seek a vocation that aligns more harmoniously with his inherent predispositions and daily capacity for effort in presentation.”
Asked to clarify the new Senate standards, Schumer told Axios,” Senators are able to choose what they wear on the Senate floor. I will continue to wear a suit.”
Schumer suggests that everyone should dress formally when serving in the lawmaking body of the most powerful and wealthy nation in the history of the world, but he feels that he cannot control the lawmakers' outfit choices.
Like nudity or obscenity laws, if a silly government rule is the only thing keeping people from walking around naked or debasing themselves in public, then decency and civility are already lost. Until recently, no one questioned the congressional dress code because suits were the classic uniform.
Neither the Senate nor the House keeps explicit rules about their dress code, although there have been instances where the leadership of each chamber has issued specific guidelines, reminders, or instructions to the sergeant at arms on the matter.
In 1969, Republican former representative Charlotte Reid made history by becoming the first woman to wear pants on the House Floor. Almost 25 years later, former senator Barbara Mikulski led the “Pantsuit Rebellion” on a day when she was scheduled to speak on the Senate floor.”
“On weekends, men of the Senate were able to dress down in slightly more casual khakis and blazers," her biography reads. “The women, however, were still expected to wear skirts. Fed up with this aged standard and, as Mikulski professed, just more comfortable in pants, the two women senators staged what would be called the Pantsuit Rebellion of 1993. They, and all the female staffers who came to the Senate floor, would wear trousers one weekend in spite of tradition. The Senate parliamentarian had to double-check the rules to ensure that women in slacks were not outside of Senate decorum. Once it was confirmed that pant suits were allowed, women in trousers have been allowed on the Senate floor ever since.”
In 2017, House Speaker Paul Ryan updated House guidance to allow for open-toe shoes and uncovered shoulders, stating at the time, “we don’t need to bar otherwise accepted contemporary business attire, so look for a change on that soon.”
Today, men and women are expected to dress in business attire for certain functions and settings. Business attire, however, is a vague standard that can be tricky for women to define given our wide range of clothing choices, from cardigans to blazer dresses to skirt suits. Senator Sinema often gets creative with the ambiguity, wearing wigs, colorful outfits, skirts, and knee-high boots.
Perhaps, now that arms, legs, and feet have been freed, the next congressional dress battle will be over crop tops. After all, if dress code standards are arbitrary, then why not wear a sports bra and biker shorts to a floor speech? What is the point of wearing a collared shirt, if being a senator is just like any other job?
The point is that presentation, in clothing and behavior, matters. Being an elected official is not like any other job.
Volodymyr Zelenskyy, like Winston Churchill during World War II, regularly wears combat clothes to communicate that he and his nation are at war.
A nation of absolute moral relativists, which can be conveyed by clothing, would have never produced a constitution. While wearing open-toed shoes will not lead a nation to bankruptcy, legislators and other public servants who are unconcerned about their presentation shed doubt on their reverence for the role and ability to govern wisely and seriously.
Martine’s Hand-book of Etiquette and Guide to True Politeness, published in 1866, makes the point that, “The chain which binds society together is formed of innumerable links. Let it be your part to keep those links uniformly bright; and to see that neither dust nor rust accumulate upon them.”
Hopefully, we can persuade our society leaders to dress for the dignity of the job, and respect for the institution.
Patricia Patnode is a columnist at The Conservateur, a Junior Fellow at the Independent Women's Forum, and the Midwest representative for Young Voices. She can be found on Twitter @IdealPatricia.
Media via Daily Mail
