How Clothing Influences Power Dynamics

Today I had to go to the doctor and get my head staples removed.

 Meaning, I had to check in, sign papers, get weighed, get escorted into a treatment room, get asked a lot of questions about medications, allergies, recent surgeries, and if I was depressed, incontinent, or had had a hysterectomy. 

Those last two were odd, but whatever. 

The intake nurse had a pin on her stethoscope that said, “I respond to the energy you put out, so be careful what kind of energy you put out.” That wasn’t it verbatim, but that was the gist of it.

I thought it was a good pin, and told her.

Nobody likes to go to the doctor. Or the dentist. Or the optometrist, or any other medical place, even if it’s just for easy, routine things. That’s because doctors have all the power, and we don’t have much, if any. 

We are vulnerable. We need them. We are in pain, or have plaque, or need prescription meds, so we put up with their questions about our allergies and hysterectomies, and get nervous when they take our blood pressure, and ask us to step on the scale, fully clothed, with our shoes on, which we know is is going to skew our weight five pounds in the wrong direction.

During the exam, they stand. We sit.

 We sit on those tables with the crackly white paper. A table so high that our feet don’t touch the ground. A kind of baby’s high chair, without the tray. If we’re at the dentist, we also get a bib.

If we are a woman, we are sometimes addressed as “hon” or “dear.” It’s probably not meant to be condescending, but it is.

What I’m trying to say here is that there is a definite power imbalance that we, as patients, are always on the wrong side of. 

And this makes me feel anxious, wary, guarded, and defensive whenever I have to deal with the medical world. 

However, I have found a way to shift the power dynamic. At least a little. 

And it’s been very effective for me. It’s been my secret weapon for the past year, and I’m going to share it with you. 

You know what it is?

Clothes. 

Remember back when I had to have cataract surgery? On the day of my first appointment with the surgeon, I wore black Vuori trousers, a crisp white button-down, a cropped blazer, and red leather shoes. 

I carried a red leather cross-body bag, and wore silver hoops in my ears and a silver chain around my neck. 

Lipstick and blush, but no mascara because it was an eye exam.

The reason I wore that clothing was that I knew I would be profiled as a 71-year-old woman with cataracts. 

Which, granted, I was, but what do you see when you read my chart? 

You see gray hair, stooped posture, a little fragile, a little slow to comprehend things. 

Right?

So imagine the surgeon walking in and seeing me sitting in her exam chair in that outfit.

I graciously extended my hand before she did, and I could see her whole brain recalibrating. 

She spoke to me like a peer rather than a patient.  There was no condescension. We weren’t equals; she still had the power, but I evened out the imbalance simply by wearing those clothes.

She complimented me that day, as did the intake nurse. She said I looked like a TV news anchor, and she made it a point to specify that she meant a national news anchor.

Clothes signal, whether you want them to or not. 

Clothes signal who has the power. Clothes can intimidate people. Think Harvey Specter in Suits. 

Clothes can also relax people. Think Jason Segel’s character “Jimmy” on Shrinking.

Harvey Specter is all about sartorial intimidation, whereas Jimmy’s clothes project comfort and trustworthiness. 

Today, here’s what I wore to my staple-removing appointment: my gray “Salty” tee shirt, light wide-legged jeans, a blue and white striped seersucker blazer, and my gray, woven Allbirds sneakers. 

A chunky silver chain, hoop earrings, and a lavendar watch band completed my outfit. I also wore a little light make-up: lip gloss, blush, mascara.

And it had the same effect: no condescension, only respect. Both the intake nurse and the doctor complimented me on my outfit and said they would never take me for my chronological age. 

“What’s your secret?” the intake nurse asked. 

“I dunno,” I said. “Yoga, maybe?”

But I knew it wasn’t yoga. It was my clothes. No question.

Enclothed Cognition

There is a theory in Fashion Psychology called Enclothed Cognition. In brief, this theory says that a psychological shift occurs when we wear certain garments. Think of a soldier or an athlete wearing a uniform or a priest in vestments. Our clothes can significantly impact how we think of ourselves and how others perceive us.

I used to always dress up for my college exams because I thought nicer clothes made me think better. I don’t know if it did, but when I looked sharp, my mind felt sharper.

So, the next time you’re nervous about entering a situation where there’s a power imbalance and you’re on the vulnerable end of it; try upping your fashion game a little and see what happens.

And if you try it and it works, let me know. 

Clothes send subtle and powerful signals. And if you’re aware of how you can manipulate those signals, you can control how you are seen by others, and also how you feel.

Fashion is a vehicle for self-expression, but more importantly, fashion is a source of personal power that we can consciously use to shape and create the way we feel and are perceived.