6 minute read
Dress Code While Traveling Abroad: Mexico City Edition by Dana Flores
A Cross-Cultural Anecdote of Fashion & Feminism between New York & Mexico City
Travel has returned! As members of a global community, it’s imperative to know what to wear and how to wear it when traveling for safety, appropriateness and cultural awareness. I learned this the hard way so you don’t have to:
Advertisement
I grew up between Chicago and Mexico City, navigating the stark contrast between the cozy nook of American liberalism and freedom of wardrobe expression, and the watchful gaze of my Catholic conservative family in Mexico. They were always quick to remind me that my midriff was showing, urging me to put on a sweater before heading downtown, always protected by the presence of my male cousins.
Needless to say, the codes of dress and behavior of one city are certainly not the rules of another.
My father was quick to remind me of this upon arriving at my family’s home in Mexico City. I was getting ready to go to a café around the block: This was my push for independence. Finally, at 23 years old, it felt revolutionary for me, a woman, to walk down the street on my own without a man to keep me company and provide a veil of protection from male onlookers. I wore a black long-sleeve crop top and black high-waisted cotton pants. A seemingly innocuous, casual outfit.
Perfect for a trip to the bodega or for a coffee run in the East Village.
When I stepped out of my room, my dad looked at me, “Ay Dana,” he said. “What?” I responded, somewhat defensive. I knew exactly where this was going. “You can’t go like that. You’re not in New York anymore. Realize who you are and where you are.”
Translation: Realize that you are a woman living in Mexico City. As a woman, I stood out. I was a target regardless of what I was wearing. In Mexico, for the most part it’s better to go unnoticed, especially as a woman. “I dress to not be perceived,” says Lilith Ortiz, a 25 year old production designer living in a northern neighborhood of Mexico City.
Women and Children’s section of Mexico City metro station
Photo by Jaime Emilio O’Hea IG: @jaimemiliohea
She uses public transportation and experienced the shift in 2008 when the National Institute of Women of Mexico City implemented “Viajemos Seguras” (Let’s Travel Safely), a program assigning three train cars at the front of the train exclusively for women and minors under 12 years old.
“In the women’s car, you enter and get to where you’re going. In the mixed train cars, you feel how you’re being objectified despite what you’re wearing. It’s as if they’re looking at you and thinking ‘Is she fuckable? Nice to look at?” For safety, as Ortiz says, it’s better to not draw attention to yourself.
However, the rules for dress differ depending where you’re traveling to.
“On the metro line that leads to Ciudad Universitaria, (the main campus of the National Autonomous University of Mexico) there are many young women who experiment with fashion. It’s safer, they feel more free to do so,” says Ortiz.
In New York, on my commute to my university, I probably wouldn’t think twice about how I was dressed that day regarding my safety. Phrases like feminicide and sexual assault are not as top-of-mind on a daily basis.
More than 65% of women who use the Mexico City metro report having been victims of sexual assault, although the total number isn’t accounted for because of the process of filing a report is tedious and often ignored by officials, the womens’ only spaces generally bring safety and peace of mind to the commuters.
“This is something we fight for,” says Vanessa Navari, 20, a feminist and Communications major at Ibero American University in Mexico City, “during the feminist marches, many women take off their shirts and wear their bras to open this topic of conversation.”
Displays of wealth and social class through dress are also influential in the way you’re perceived.
Women in the Feminist March Carrying a Sculpture of a Vulva Wearing a Cloak of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Patron Saint of Mexico
Photo by Lilith Ortiz IG: @lilith_otz
Purple Raised Fist Monument of the Feminist Movement in front of Palacio Bellas Artes Mexico City
Photo by Lilith Ortiz IG: @lilith_otz
In New York, if you observe closely, there is a refined quality to the everyday street style of a New Yorker.
It’s not uncommon to step onto the L Train at 8 a.m. and be surrounded by some well-known names: Telfar, FjällRäven, Nike, Goyard, Lululemon and perhaps some more obscure references like “this vintage shop in Brooklyn.” It may not be obvious but it’s in the subtleties that you notice that the blasé composition of a New Yorkers outfit was actually highly curated to engage the perception of others.
In Mexico, this social phenomenon varies in its presentation depending on socioeconomic status which goes hand-in-hand with geographic location as well as race.
Conspicuous consumption in Mexico takes the form of logomania; Gucci, Michael Kors and the infamous Polo jersey with the diagonal stripe across the chest are the logos of choice for many Mexicans wanting to flaunt an air of wealth – regardless if it’s real or a knock-off from the tianguis, a flea-market or open air bazaar.
Certain wealthier, westernized, fashionable and touristy areas like La Roma and La Condesa, are safer and provide leeway for conspicuous consumption and fashion experimentation.
However, “It’s very obvious amongst the social classes. Who gets to wear what depending on the areas they visit.
In the neighborhoods with more resources there’s more surveillance” says Ortiz.
Essentially, the more affluent the area, the more safely you can get away with showing more skin, although it’s still not entirely culturally appropriate for Mexico City. As a traveler, you may feel uncomfortable.
In an ideal feminist utopia, we can wear whatever we want, wherever we are. But that’s not the case and it’s important to learn how to navigate different environments safely and comfortably, which often means understanding cultural differences in treatment of gender and how social class allows or inhibits the performance of femininity.
