Costumes: Special Occasions as Performance

By Karen Sternheimer

Recently, I received a package on my desk. It was a black gown with a decorative, brightly colored velvet hood and an oddly-shaped hat. There was no note, no explanation, but I knew what it was for.

In any other context, the arrival of an unusual outfit would be strange, maybe even disconcerting; it is not something I would personally have chosen to wear, as it is bulky and way too warm to wear in the late spring. I am expected to wear this outfit for our university’s commencement ceremonies, just as others on our faculty and around the country are.

The ceremonial cap and gown brings excitement to many who are about to graduate or have family members who are graduating. Wearing a cap and gown connects the individual to a larger tradition of scholarly endeavors; graduates put on similar garb as their professors indicating that they are being inducted into a community of scholars. Those earning doctorates wear the same highly decorated robes as their professors, signaling their formal shift from student to fellow scholar.

Despite the depth of significance of caps and gowns, they are essentially costumes.  They are clothing we wear while “front stage,” as dramaturgical sociologist Erving Goffman might describe, meant as part of our presentation of self and connoting our social roles in a highly staged ceremony.

While we often think of costumes as a departure from our day-to-day identities. Like the ones people wear on Halloween, costumes have social meanings. Yes, Halloween and other costumes might be fun, and we might not individually consider any deeper meaning when we wear them, but costumes present a useful sociological lesson on issues of status and power.

The graduation costume is about a shift in status for the graduate; for the faculty and administrators, it is a reminder of their status and power, the power that enables them to confer a degree onto the recipient. The cap and gown also connotes a change in status for families, as teary-eyed parents observe their children take part in a ritual that symbolizes the beginning of adulthood.

We might consider the importance of the clothing associated with other rituals, like proms, weddings, and debutante balls. All three have historically reinforced meanings of gender, as women spend a great deal of time and money on choosing the “right” dress, shoes, hair, and make-up. Debutante ball gowns look a lot like wedding dresses, and these women from high-status families are formally “presented” in the gowns to men of similar status, presumably entering the marriage market.

Men’s appearance has historically been less important for these occasions, as they may choose between a few different tuxedo styles, but are essentially going to dress a lot alike at these occasions. I have been to black-tie weddings where it was hard to distinguish the groom’s tux from those of his guests; by contrast no guest was dressed like the bride. Wearing the same dress as another girl at prom can be a major source of embarrassment. Celebrity magazines often feature a “who wore it best” column, comparing two women wearing the same outfit and choosing one as the “winner.” These rituals highlight the importance of a woman’s appearance and minimize men’s.

Costumes can also convey deeper meanings of status and power, as filmmaker Rebecca Snedeker highlights in By Invitation Only, a film that goes behind the scenes of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Snedeker’s family has been involved in a Krewe, one of many private groups that put on floats and an ultra-selective Mardi Gras ball, for many generations, giving her unusual access. She details how the costumes at this ball harkens monarchies of past centuries; each year a new “queen” is crowned and guests wear regalia similar to royalty.

The film explains the history of such costumes, which had their start in the years immediately after the end of the Civil War and the end of slavery. The ball began as a nostalgic longing for a time when the authority and status of the white elite was unquestioned. While today attendees may not necessarily long for the days of slavery, the tradition of the costumes and the ball is one that they cling to. Snedeker also points out that Krewes and their celebrations remain segregated and typically only open to the wealthy; that is, only if a current member invites them to join.

We might argue that we almost always wear costumes to say something about ourselves to others, and that the ones we wear during ceremonies and celebrations are just heightened versions of our everyday costuming. Social pressures often shapes what we choose to wear, even if we have some choice in the matter. Work clothes might be more formal than we’d like if we are trying to appear professional or get promoted. People who go to the gym primarily for socializing might pay a great deal of attention to what they wear to workout.

What other costumes do people wear, either regularly or during special occasions? What is their social significance?

Photos courtesy of the author

Comments

[Colin Guzek]

Great information you covered all the points.