Do we like Michelle Obama because we like how she looks? Or because she likes how she looks? Perhaps the answer to both is yes. Looks, to a great degree, are all we have to go on, especially those of us outside the US, who haven’t had the opportunity to become more intimate with the First Lady as she deftly parries with Larry King on CNN or bump-dances with Ellen DeGeneres on daytime TV.
Those two shows reveal something about Obama’s pitch-perfect presentation and her relaxed attitude to her body. There’s none of Nancy Reagan’s neurotic high maintenance; an absence of Laura Bush’s impeccable but old-fashioned self-effacement. She’s enjoying herself. In a bad-tempered, resentful era, that’s a surprisingly positive message.
It’s not just the arms – although it’s impossible to dismiss the First Biceps (much as the New York Times columnist David Brooks tried. “She’s made her point. Now she should put away Thunder and Lightning”). Those arms told a story – of discipline, of fitness, of relative youth and, yes, of a racial disposition towards terrific muscle tone. She may have borrowed heavily from Jackie Kennedy’s wardrobe of sheath dresses, but Jackie, despite being more than a decade younger than Obama when she was First Lady, never had arms like those. Those arms were aspirational.
Noteworthily, the new First Lady graciously ignored the flak and continued on her pleasurable journey, even facing down the chill of an April evening in London last year to arrive on the steps of No 10 without sleeves.
When she tells us that her husband “doesn’t understand fashion. He’s always asking, ‘Is that new? I haven’t seen that before.’ It’s like: ‘Why don’t you mind your own business? Solve world hunger. Get out of my closet,’” she risked sounding trivial. But in the context of a woman with two Ivy League degrees and a marriage most of the world is only too happy to share intimate nuggets about, she sounds refreshingly balanced.
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From that white, shimmery, optimistic Inauguration (one-shouldered, arm-revealing) ballgown, she’s generally got it right, although the blue Alaïa gown (previous page) was the wrong shape for her. Whether she’s wearing cheerful, colourful cardigans to a soup kitchen or an inner city girls’ school in London, tailored (sleeveless) dresses for Larry King and anywhere else she wants to pack a well-aimed, glamorous, intelligent punch, or a tailored jacket and trousers to a military memorial service, she’s cracked the linguistic code of dressing for any occasion.
Her sure-footedness leaves her open to accusations of being calculating or in some way less than authentic, but it’s hard to make those accusations stick. If she simply used spontaneous hugging to telegraph her warmth, scepticism might be justified (see babies, campaign trails and numerous oleaginous politicians). But you’d have to be particularly churlish not to recognise a degree of intelligence and sincerity every time she opens her mouth.
More interesting than the objections her critics raise about her perceived narcissism and extravagance (inevitably more vocalised at home than abroad) is just how much she has managed to get away with. She has worn a lot of foreign designers (Jackie Kennedy was compelled to sacrifice her beloved Givenchy and only wear American names). She has a penchant for pricey labels (those Alaïa jackets easily graze the £3,000 mark) and for someone who in many ways is a symbol of egalitarianism and accessibility, she’s mighty fond of insider fashion (that Junya Watanabe argyle and sequined cardigan, those Rodarte, Rick Owens, Thakoon and Sophie Theallet outfits).
On the other hand, an international mix could be a useful visual telegraphing of global openness. A soft spot for Alaïa and Jason Wu can be offset by liberal championing of J. Crew, Target and Talbots. As for those edgy designers, many are young, American and in need of exposure.
Besides, it’s the contradictions – the areas up for debate – that make her a compelling world figure. “It’s fun to look pretty,” she told ABC’s The View last June. She also told girls at the Elizabeth Garrett Anderson school in London that “I never cut classes,” explaining to them how much she relished being able to use her cleverness to succeed.
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Given the strict parameters in which all First Ladies find themselves operating, it’s not that surprising that a woman who clearly always liked looking good uses clothes to project her message.
It helps that she’s tall, has good legs and that she came of age after the years when many women felt that to be taken seriously they had to adopt a strident strain of feminism – the same feminism that convinced Hillary Rodham Clinton to stick with the pebble glasses and unflattering hair; the same feminism that alienated so many Americans from the Secretary of State in her early political career.
Looked at from a fashion perspective, Michelle Obama’s mantra seems to be that you can wear false eyelashes and care about the economy, be a good mother and roll your sleeves up when required.
What’s good for her image is proving good for America’s image. Heck, this is the woman who stared into the eyes of Carla Bruni-Sarkozy and walked away triumphant. It’s been a stellar first 364 days.