Fashion as Protest: Wardrobe of Revolution

Today, when you throw on a mini skirt for a night out, you're likely thinking about how it completes your look—not about what it represents, however putting on a mini skirt in the 60s had a completely different meaning. In the 1960s the mini skirt was an iconic symbol of the feminist sexual liberation movement pioneered by designer Mary Quant.
“It was a sign of a new attitude for those who wore it,” said Rebecca Arnold, professor of dress and textiles at the Courtauld Institute of Art. “It symbolised to those around them that times were changing, and women were active and visible.” (Hall, 2023).
This article explores how fashion responds to political moments, how we use clothing to make a change and the people who pioneered iconic looks that became the face of revolution.
Pic Cred: Maia Olusanya, Shuffles
Pic Cred: Maia Olusanya, Shuffles
Photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash
Photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash
From Quinceanera dresses to Handmaids Tale costumes we have seen many examples of protest fashion in recent years, but it all began over a century ago with a group of incredible women known as the suffragettes who devised the concept of using coloured sashes to communicate in the early days of photography (Mower, 2018).
They also used fashion to hide in plain sight by conforming to Edwardian feminine beauty standards while simultaneously engaging in defiant and “unladylike” behavior, they used fashion to avoid being deemed outcasts with crazy ideals as “Many suffragists spend more money on clothes than they can comfortably afford, rather than run the risk of being considered outré and doing harm to the cause.”
They also used colour as a way for people to signify they supported the cause in way of ribbons and sashes. Purple represented loyalty and dignity, white for purity and green for hope. During marches people would wear these in the hundreds of thousands (Cally Blackman, 2018).
"You have to go faster than the system."
Vivienne Westwood
One of the most famous pioneers in protest fashion was described by a friend as “embodying the soul of the suffragettes” and her name was Vivienne Westwood.
Through her partner at the time Malcom Mclaren becoming the manager of the Sex Pistols, Westwood quickly found herself sucked into their world and was soon to be crowned queen of punk. She opened her first boutique on king's road (the same street Mary Quant had her boutique in 55’) in 1971 best known under the name ‘Sex’ at its peak selling items from bondage/fetish wear to tartan and political slogan tees. Kings' road was a notorious place to buy youth focused experimental fashion (London Museum, 2016).
Vivienne realised though that to make a political difference she had to do more than just sell blanket phrases printed on T-shirts stating, "This does not shock the establishment, on the contrary, it still feeds it," She then decided to do more to make a real change such as turning her fashion shows into protests and donating one million pounds to the British environmental organization “Cool Earth” to stop deforestation in primeval forests (Klokar, 2020).
Pic Cred: Maia Olusanya, Shuffles
Pic Cred: Maia Olusanya, Shuffles
A big part of Westwood's ideas and values came from her working-class background, and and when dicussing acts of defiance and deviance in fashion we must give credit where credit is due.
Even simple things such as the tracksuit, which originated mostly around Liverpool’s football culture, was used to differentiate itself from the football hooliganism of the time to counteract it. It was long a staple of the working class but was later taken and commersialised by the same people who used to look down on it. (Powell, 2022).
Professor of Fashion Design at the University of Westminster and Director or the Westminster Menswear archive Andrew Groves also stated regarding the working-class using fashion to rebel against those who outcast them “Resistance emerges not only in opposition to political authority but also in response to economic exclusion.
The strategic consumption of fashion by those with limited access, often through counterfeit garments or dupes, underscores how garments can be weaponised against the class structures that seek to exclude them.”

Meg McWilliam's Art/Merch, Pic Cred: Meg McWilliam
Meg McWilliam's Art/Merch, Pic Cred: Meg McWilliam
This limited access to high end fashion that the working class has is also intertwined with the DIY element of punk subcultures, punk originated in the UK in the 1970s and was a much more abrasive reaction from certain groups of the working class created to fight a system that worked against them. They used fashion to stand out as much as possible and by dressing the complete opposite to everyone around them punks aimed to shock people into action (fashionheritage.eu, 2018).
Freelance protest artist, graphic designer and fashion communication student Meg Mcwilliam stated regarding DIY fashion and graphic tees “I think it's like the best way to say a statement with your chest. It's all good having artwork in your house, or you've got it on your phone or Instagram, where you know where to find it, but if you're walking about with a T-shirt on, everyone will see that. When the riots were going on, I had a T-shirt I made that said “No one chooses to be a refugee, but you choose to be a massive prick” and I was literally walking about with it cause like they're allowed to go and like brick mosques so why can't I walk around with this top on? It's like forcing people to see and they can't look away.”
However today looks that used to be worn in protest are now being commodified and big brands are even using aesthetics and movements to feign authenticity, from Dove and Nike selling female confidence and empowerment as part of their brand to Kendall Jenner starring in an extremely controversial Pepsi advert nothing is free from capitalism (Banet-Weiser, 2018).
Mcwilliam stated “Last year, Burberry opened like a greasy spoon cafe, and it was like all of the 2000s you were trying to remove yourself from working class people....I think they realize their audience want a genuine brand so, they're trying to be more genuine, but it just comes across as performative...everyone should have access to being able to protest but there should be some awareness around that. They shouldn't just be like oh, well, you know what? We want to be seen as more authentic we're just gonna pretend to be working class...I'd have so much more respect if they were just like, look like we've got all this money. We're gonna funnel it into this. That is a bigger form of protest.”
Groves reflects on how fashion’s growing obsession with protest aesthetics can actually dilute their power “When protest aesthetics are reproduced within mainstream fashion without the political context that gave them meaning, their oppositional value is weakened. You could see this process whereby resistance is absorbed by the dominant culture, neutralised, and re-sold as style in the 2014 Chanel runway show that appropriated the idea of a feminist protest march for its finale.” Fashion will always be a form of self-expression, but when its roots in protest and rebellion get watered down and sold back to us for profit, it stops being powerful. It erases the voices that made it matter in the first place.