On Nov. 6, Black people across the country grappled with the reality that Donald Trump won the election and will serve as the 47th president of the United States — a gravely disillusioning result that has life-threatening implications for marginalized communities globally.
After Vice President Kamala Harris conceded on the Howard University campus, the finger-pointing machine fired up as various segments of the left explained why Harris lost the race.
From refusing to call for an arms embargo for the deadly crisis in Palestine to cozying up to the Cheney family, even though Dick Cheney remains one of the least-favored American politicians of the modern era. But for all the shoulda coulda woulda-s, many of which have very valid arguments, it is hard to imagine just how much that would matter given the context of the mass shift to the right that’s been happening, especially amongst Gen Z, as Trump doubled his support from first-time voters this go-around.
Red Pilling and conservative influencers like Andrew Tate and Joe Rogan appeal to the deep-rooted insecurities of isolated young white boys. But it’s not just “Alpha Male” misogynistic podcasters that are feeding the insatiable beast of white supremacy. And the signs have been more than apparent in the fashion trends that have been engulfing the digital ether for the past four years.
Take, for example, the influx of trad-wife-esque clothing á la the hyper-feminine wardrobe stylings of Mrs. “From Scratch” herself, Nara Smith, whose husband allegedly may be a Trump supporter.
Or even the “quiet luxury” aesthetic that has promoted a very specific, conservative-tinged unassuming manner of dress that right-wing circles tout as the standard of acceptable dress. Even real-tree camouflage, a sartorial beacon of red-state hunting attire, is being co-opted by the Harris ticket as a way to appeal to “moderate” voters and Republicans who don’t like Trump.
Conversely, we have the cultural examples of viewing certain apparel decisions as proverbial nods to being safe, at least to some degree, for the collective. Telfar and Brandon Blackwood purses have become unspoken signals of where someone’s political affiliations may lie, the same way someone wearing a MAGA hat, even the ironic ones, signals something about their politic.
So, beyond populist rhetoric, right-wing grifters, and the liberal pursuit of the (non-existent) moderate vote, wardrobe trends have also hinted at societies growing cling to the right.
The writing, it seems, was on the wardrobes all along.
