Embracing the Male Gaze

by Annie Levy

As women in college, there’s one closet staple that’s instantly recognizable, always referenced, and constantly sought out: the going-out top. Regardless of where that outing is—a club, a concert, a sweaty basement on Pratt Street—the shirt’s purpose remains the same. Maybe it’s well-fitted with a sleek high neckline or dips low with draping silk fabric. It should be flattering, perhaps revealing, and generally slutty. When we, as college girls, look for a top to go out in, we might not explicitly say it aloud, but that is what everyone’s looking for. And after much internal debate and struggle, I’ve decided that no one should be ashamed of that.

I remember a conversation I had with a friend last summer before we moved to our respective college towns, and “going out” clothes came up. She candidly told me she would “never be one of those girls” who sacrifice a cute outfit for something slutty. From an aesthetic perspective, I understood. Fashion is fashion no matter the situation, and style, to some, will always be a priority. However, something was striking about the tone and the almost finger-pointing hidden in her words. When I came to college myself and the time came to “go out,” her words remained in the back of my mind. I wanted to dress in a flattering way, but if I went over the top or wore something that looked just slutty and not chic or interesting in any other way, that was wrong. Wearing something physically revealing just for the sake of it was just embarrassing, I thought deep down. A cute pair of jeans and a flattering tank top were cool and stylish, but a corset top with lace and a built-in pushup bra was too much. It was easy.

My friend is not alone in her feelings, of course. Some may even call her more of a feminist than I am. However, the idea that women can be “too slutty” or “too much” — even when, like in a party setting, it’s culturally appropriate — comes as a defensive measure from the oppressive male gaze. If you’re putting yourself out there physically, you’re conceding to what men want, and thus, you look ridiculous. You are silly, desperate, and some may even say, setting women back. No one will take us seriously if we can so easily surrender to what the male gaze begs of us, some feminists think.

However, this message fails to acknowledge the actual feelings and thoughts of the women wearing the clothes themselves. I can’t argue that the male gaze does not exist and that when college girls wear a lace corset to go to a fraternity party, they’re not playing into something much bigger than them. Of course, they are.

But, contrarily, how does the woman herself feel? That matters. That feeling exists in a much larger, more complicated series of constructs and history, but the individual’s emotions exist.

The reality is that the male gaze has infiltrated our lives. I don’t know what it means to be a woman or feminine in the absence of the male depiction of femininity because the female image is constructed solely by men, to begin with.

I don’t mean to play feminist theorists, but it’s not hard to see how our lives are deeply affected by the male gaze in ways we don’t realize. Our perceived self-confidence is fashioned directly by years of understanding what is praised and unacceptable or praised and glared at.

I was discussing this with a friend not long ago, and she gave the perfect example: sleeping in something more revealing for comfort, not to impress another. “I always sleep in a tank top because I just feel better about myself,” she said. “It’s not that I’m sleeping with someone else or I’m trying to look good or something. It just makes me feel good.”

Some may argue that resisting these urges and accumulated influences is worth it and that by leaning into the male gaze, you’re perpetuating objectification.

First and foremost, objectification, by definition, requires another party. Sleeping in a tank top or silk pajama set is not objectifying to oneself the same way it’s not objectifying to take a shower naked. Further, if I receive any response to an outfit from another, it’s the fault of the other party and that party alone. Just as an assault victim’s outfit cannot be blamed as the cause of their assault, I cannot be blamed for the reactions of another. If a shirt is offensive, arousing, or disturbing to someone, those feelings are the other person’s feelings to cope with.

Secondly, resisting the male gaze requires active work, and frankly, that work can often feel insignificant and uncomfortable. If I were to say, choose to dress androgynously to a frat party, it would feel odd and out of place given the trending styles. More importantly, the quantitative impact of that statement would be impossible to measure. Even if my entire sorority, for instance, were to ditch the little tops for something more conservative, what would the impact be? Would we be looked at any less as potential hook-ups by the men we mingle with?

Most importantly, I question the feminist language that looks down upon sluttiness in the first place. When women describe others as slutty, too revealing, or too much, is there not an underlying message that women need to be contained? Why should I, a young woman in my so-called prime, contain my sexuality, skin, and body parts? Any message that suggests women should be bound should, I believe, be questioned for its roots. Internalized misogyny is a real and powerful force, and we should analyze even the most devout feminists for their real intentions in liberating women.

As young, aware women, we should cut ourselves some slack. Sexual liberation in a misogynistic world is difficult, if possible at all. We can only take on so much. Our physical appearances are powerful and always hold political meaning, but dismantling the male gaze is not possible with the actions of the individual. If an item of clothing feels right and good, I say wear it. Everything we do as women is influenced and constructed by the male gaze. At the end of the day we might as well embrace it. All the while educating ourselves and becoming the best women we can be.