The politics of attire: Dressing women, undressing freedom

Who decides what women should wear? Too often, women's attire is controlled in the name of religion and "divine order," which is only one small element of a broader system.

I call it "the many roots of systematic control"—a deeply ingrained system that restricts women's freedom, rooted not only in religious beliefs but also in patriarchal traditions, fundamentalist ideologies, and global politics. 

The policing of women's clothing is not just an isolated issue; it is a deliberately engineered mechanism of control that reflects these larger forces.

Systematic control: The four-step mechanism of oppression

The restriction of women's clothing is the first step in a larger pattern of systemic control. What starts as a seemingly harmless dress code expands into a broader mechanism that limits women's autonomy at every level. This control follows a predictable cycle: regulating, restricting, limiting, and blocking.

Regulating

Regulating women's attire is the first step, defining what is deemed "appropriate" or "modest" and reinforcing societal expectations.

Restricting

Once attire is policed, limitations on women's mobility follow. Many Islamic societies require a mahram (male guardian) for travel. Recently, a prominent Bangladeshi religious lecturer's statement about going out with only mahrams to avoid rape sparked controversy.

According to ancient Hindu scriptures, including the Manusmriti, a woman must remain under the guardianship of her father in childhood, her husband in marriage, and her son in old age to preserve family honour.

In Christian Europe and America, unmarried women required chaperones to preserve their "honour." Orthodox Jewish modesty laws (Tzniut) regulate women's dress and public behaviour. Even in some Buddhist cultures, menstruating women who wear short attire are barred from temples due to notions of impurity.

Limiting

Limiting education and employment is the third step. With mobility restricted, access to education and financial independence becomes the next target, keeping women economically dependent.

Blocking

Lastly, blocking political participation ensures systemic inequality remains intact by controlling financial and social freedoms, thereby excluding women from leadership and decision-making roles.

What may seem like minor restrictions on attire often escalate into deeper forms of suppression. The real motive behind such regulations is not morality or faith—it is control.

Is it about faith or power? The answer lies in selective religious enforcement

Historically, religion has encompassed diverse aspects—prayers, rituals, charity, and moral values. Yet, when it comes to control, women's attire often becomes the focal point. Men's obligations under Islamic teachings, such as lowering their gaze, practising financial honesty, and treating women of all religions with respect, receive little emphasis. Instead, religious authorities and conservative groups manipulate modesty laws to control women's mobility, choices, and public presence.

This is selective religious enforcement. The policing of women's clothing is not a cultural or religious debate—it is a systematic mechanism of oppression designed to limit women's autonomy, economic participation, and political influence. It is not about faith but about power, rooted in patriarchal interpretations that have long shaped religious and legal structures.

The recent incident of moral policing at Dhaka University perfectly illustrates this selective outrage. A student was harassed under the guise of 'Islamic values,' as if faith now dictates that men must obsess over the exact placement of a woman's dupatta. 

Fascinating—because last we checked, Islam advises men not to engage in unnecessary conversations with women, let alone dictate their clothing choices. But of course, when it comes to control, hypocrisy knows no bounds.

Religious attire: A double-edged sword

Women are targeted both for wearing and not wearing religious clothing. According to a Pew Research Centre study (2016-2018), women in 56 countries faced social hostilities for clothing deemed to violate religious or secular dress norms. Additionally, 61 countries imposed government restrictions on dress, particularly regarding head coverings.

Religious or culturally significant attire is often at the centre of political and societal debates. A notable example is France's ban on Islamic attire in public spaces. Few people know about the 120-year-old French law of laïcité, which separates church and state, belief and governance. This principle applies to all religions, restricting overt religious symbols in public institutions to maintain secularism.

Following a rise in extremist attacks—including the Charlie Hebdo attack in 2015—France tightened its stance on religious attire in public spaces. During this period, Muslim communities also experienced a rise in hate crimes, with visibly Muslim women becoming easy targets due to their religious attire. The state, aiming to prevent further division and violence, reinforced bans on religious dress, claiming that it would eliminate visible markers of difference.

In 2010, Bangladesh's High Court ruled that individuals cannot be compelled to wear religious attire, such as burqas or skull caps, in workplaces, schools, or colleges. This ruling underscores the nation's commitment to personal freedom in matters of dress.

Recently, a political figure proposed establishing a board to determine appropriate clothing for men, women, and children in Bangladesh. This proposal has sparked debate, as it appears to contradict the country's liberal stance on individual attire choices.

Women who choose not to wear certain cultural or religious attire face legal penalties, social backlash, and even violence worldwide. In Iran and Afghanistan, women face legal punishment, arrests, and violence for not wearing hijabs. The Women, Life, Freedom movement in Iran, ignited by Mahsa Amini's 2022 death, saw women burning hijabs in defiance despite brutal crackdowns. Recently, the Iranian government even deployed drones for surveillance to track those without headscarves—an absurd escalation of control.

In South Asia, women's attire is deeply tied to patriarchal control, restricting movement and justifying victim-blaming. In rural areas, enforced ghoonghat and burqas limit women's visibility, while in urban spaces, jeans and skirts invite moral policing. The Pinjra Tod movement in India fights sexist hostel rules that dictate what women wear and how they behave, exposing the link between clothing, control, and oppression.

In Bolivia, Indigenous Aymara and Quechua women were banned from public spaces for wearing polleras, traditional skirts seen as a challenge to colonial elites. Despite this, the Cholita Movement reclaimed the pollera, turning it into a symbol of resilience. By 2010, Bolivia's first Indigenous president, Evo Morales, appointed pollera-clad women to government roles—turning centuries of discrimination into a triumph of resilience.

A strategy of systematic cleansing?

Societies are naturally heterogeneous, enriched by diversity in culture, beliefs, and individual expression. However, when power structures seek to enforce homogeneity, they often start with something as visible and personal as clothing. Dress codes become a tool to distinguish between those who "belong" and those who do not—marking individuals for exclusion, control, or even erasure.

This is the foundation of systematic cleansing—a deliberate process that isolates and marginalises those who do not conform. It begins with defining what is "acceptable" and "unacceptable," ensuring that nonconformity is instantly recognisable. The moment a group's attire is politicised, it ceases to be just fabric; it becomes a label, a boundary, a weapon of division.

By making differences hyper-visible, power structures justify discrimination. Those who do not fit the prescribed mould are marked, scrutinised, and pressured to either assimilate or be cast out. 

What starts as a dress code can escalate into legal restrictions, social hostility, economic exclusion, or even physical violence. Over time, this method erodes diversity, reinforcing a manufactured homogeneity that serves ideological or nationalistic agendas.

Understanding this politics of attire is crucial. True social strength lies in harmony, not forced uniformity. The world thrives on plurality and acceptance, not rigid lines of separation. When dress codes are used as instruments of control, they strip individuals of their autonomy, reducing them to symbols rather than people.

Women must recognise this cycle and resist its very first step. When control over clothing is normalised, it paves the way for deeper oppression—over speech, movement, education, and participation. The right to choose our clothing is not just about fashion or modesty; it is about freedom. Once that freedom is taken at the surface, it becomes easier to take away everything else.

To break this cycle, women must reclaim their agency before control over their bodies becomes institutionalised. This fight is not just about what we wear—it is about pushing back against a system that decides who has power and who does not. True liberation begins with choice.

Ishrat Binte Rouf.

Ishrat Binte Rouf is a development and policy specialist working as Program Lead at GenLab.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.