The Sociology of... Style

"We cannot escape fashion."

The Gist of It: Like it or not, appearance matters. Here’s a sociological take on how to navigate it.

Disclaimer: This is not a post about “fashion” in the traditional sense. It’s about the power of appearance and the social dynamics of self-presentation.

For those of you who have been following me for a while, you may remember my company, The Sociology of Style, and the many years I focused my work and writing on this topic. That eventually led to the current framing of this Substack.

Here’s where it all began:

I didn’t become interested in this topic because of any love of couture (I don’t love couture). Rather, I came to it out of personal necessity and intellectual curiosity. In subtle but significant ways, I looked different and stood out in my social environment from a young age. (“Akbari” and Iowa aren’t a natural pairing.) That unintentional visual distinction triggered a hyper-awareness of appearance and real-time calculations of my aesthetic choices early on. As life progressed, I found myself needing to operate like a chameleon to identify and interpret different official and unofficial dress codes and rules of appearance across cultures, subcultures, and geographies. These nuanced visual distinctions helped broker entry into various groups and remove barriers to connection. The more I mastered this game, the more access and opportunities I had. I came to understand appearance as far more than consumerist superficiality or a mere outlet for expression; it was also a tool for negotiating power.

I wrote both my master’s thesis and my PhD dissertation on the semiotics of self-presentation, then went on to develop and teach related courses at Parsons and NYU. This topic, followed by next month’s theme of the Sociology of… Beauty, will touch on some of that body of work.

At a cultural moment in which so much of our daily lives has shifted to virtual engagement, it’s helpful to remember that, yes, we still have a body, we are still objects for viewing, and appearances (both embodied and digital) still matter.

*Given that this is a topic on which I have wayyyyy too much to say, I’m straying slightly from my usual Sociology of… format, and per your (hopeful) input, I’ll go deeper in my audio advice column this week on whatever questions you submit.*

To lay the foundation, here are five key tenets of the Sociology of…. Style that can socially empower you by shaping how you self-present and how you read the visually symbolic social world around you.

1. The “image system” is auto opt-in

In the words of one of my favorite sociologists, Jean Baudrillard, “We cannot escape fashion.” We may profess not to care about fashion, cling to anti-fashion expressions, or denounce consumerism, but everyone is a participant in the fashion system. Accept it so you can use it to your advantage.

I’ve found this basic principle of universal participation to be hardest for academics and intellectuals to accept. In their ideal world, words and actions, not images, are what “should” carry weight and influence. But life is not brokered in words alone. The Pulitzer Prize winning author Alison Lurie captures this sentiment best in her book, The Language of Clothes:

“Even when we say nothing, our clothes are talking noisily to everyone who sees us, telling them who we are, where we come from, what we like to do in bed and a dozen other intimate things. Clothes do not shut up. We can lie in the language of dress, or try to tell the truth; but unless we are naked and bald, it is impossible to be silent.”

(Though I do take issue with her last point: being naked and bald is anything but silent, as we’ll discuss next in the Sociology of… Beauty.)

When doing my fieldwork, I often spoke to high-achieving subjects who proclaimed, “I don’t pay attention to what I wear.” My response was always the same: “That’s too bad, because everyone else does.” (Also, stop lying because yes, you do pay attention — you just make repeat decisions within your aesthetic comfort zone. Think about all the things you could have worn but didn’t. Did you put on an orange jumpsuit to go to work? Did you leave the house naked? With the exception of a very specific subset of people, the answer to both is no.)

You might refuse to look in the mirror, but we all have a mandate to visually perform on the public stage, and your audience is watching.

2. “Authenticity” is irrelevant

“Authenticity” is a buzzword that makes me squish my face in frustration. What constitutes authenticity in self-expression? Who’s to say? Is one merely acting in social settings? Are public behaviors ever “authentic”? We all wear a mask and play a role. I believe masking gets a bad rap, and Sociologist Erving Goffman argues on its behalf with regard to public appearance:

“This mask represents the conception we have formed of ourselves — the role we are striving to live up to — this mask is our truer self, the self we would like to be.”

Authenticity is not the pertinent issue when it comes to masking. Whatever is socially enacted is, in a sense, both pure artifice and essentially real, and yet, one may argue that all behavior is affected, insofar as it is socially constructed.

It doesn’t matter which image you project; creating any image is authentic. However you show up is still you. I like to explain it less as masking and more through the imagery of a prism: You are a prism, and at any given moment, you can only reveal so many facets of your identity. Those other facets still exist, even if they are not immediately visible. In this sense, masks are not false, but rather different representations of the “real” person.

We’re complex creatures and our appearances are allowed to reflect that.

3. We must be seen to be heard

The great political theorist, Hannah Arendt, argues that “appearance constitutes reality,” and it is that appearance (not its “authenticity”) that creates a pathway to power:

“The greatest that man can achieve is his own appearance.”

Arendt believes that we must be seen before we can be heard. This is a confronting concept for many, as it challenges the notion that talent and intelligence (in the narrower sense of those terms) are what should justify who has the microphone. But we all know that’s not true. Remember: Appearance might earn you a spot on the stage, but substance will help you keep it.

4. “Distinguished compliance” is the winning formula

Returning to Goffman’s concept of masking, we’re faced with a dilemma: Do I self-present in an effort to express myself or to conform and demonstrate belonging? The answer is BOTH.

In my academic work, I coined the term “distinguished compliance” to capture this delicate balance between the self and the group. Radical visual articulation — or even just “dressing for yourself” — might feel liberating, but a socially rebellious appearance (anything out-of-step with your immediate social environment) can have consequences and backfire, hindering your larger social goals. A balance between the whims of your preferred self-expression and the norms of the group must be astutely managed. Go too far in either direction, and you lose clout. Your ability to carve out a space of appearance where you can be seen and thus heard requires you to visually demonstrate that you understand the rules of the group, that you “get it,” while also visually distinguishing yourself to set you apart from the masses.

Important note: Even members of subcultures demonstrate conformity to their niche aesthetic norms, while rewarding members who successfully differentiate themselves within the particular visual parameters of that group (my interview this month will explore this theme). We long to rebel, at least a little, but successful distinction is always coupled with some type of conformity: Punks and corporate executives both stage fashion revolts and are ardent conformists, in different respects.

Goffman argues that “our sense of personal identity resides in the cracks.” Distinguished compliance — this blend of personal distinction and a demonstration of group belonging — is the visual remedy for “living in the cracks,” perpetually occupying a space somewhere between the self and society. (This “self-discipline as proof of legitimacy” is a manifestation of the knowledge/power dyad that would make Foucault proud.)

5. Identity is a creative act; delight in your possible selves

If this auto opt-in image system feels like an oppressive trap, there is a bright side: It’s not a fixed reality. We buy into more than trends and labels. We invest in the chance at a second existence, where biographical circumstances are outshone by imagined realities.

Ralph Lauren (né Lifshitz) famously said, “I don’t design clothes. I design dreams.” Ralph may be a Jewish boy from the Bronx, but his claim to the WASPy, preppy aesthetic — and its concomitant lifestyle — is as authoritative as it is contagious. Our appearance is a fashioning of possibilities; a creative act, not a mere consequence of birth. In a world of possible selves, authenticity (and its social potency) is made, not born, and it flourishes in the mythic reality of a realized imagination.

Belief and illusion perform on the stage of the modern metropolitan “street,” a masked parade of aspirational selves on display. As Hannah Arendt argues, power is rooted in potential, not immutability. We operate as identity shapeshifters, empowered by this invitation to aesthetically evolve.

Who will you be today?

*Want me to dive deeper into a particular aspect of this topic? Does it relate to your life in some way? Submit your questions and observations on the Sociology of… Style here or in the comments, and I’ll respond in my audio advice column.*