Reviewing E. Jean Carroll's wardrobe

Donald Trump's sexual assault civil trial was more than a fashion show.

I have to admit, this headline from the Donald Trump sexual assault verdict made me very uncomfortable:

So did this one:

Now: I’m a guy who wears cargo shorts pretty much exclusively between April and October. So the whole project of using fashion and style to build credibility and power pretty much eludes me — and I’m admittedly completely out of my depth when you apply those concepts to the topic of how women present themselves in a sexist society.

But it’s difficult to see these headlines and not feel a bit uncomfortable that perhaps a sexual assault civil trial is being trivialized somewhat. The courthouse is not a red carpet. “Who are you wearing” is not an appropriate question.

And to be fair, both essays take the topic a bit more seriously than perhaps the headlines suggest.

WaPo:

You’d have to be a fool to think her clothes weren’t part of the equation in this trial. Much of testifying as a victim of sexual assault in court is a degrading process of convincing a jury that you look like a victim of sexual assault. Trump made that much clear when he dismissed Carroll as “not my type.” The jurors were shown images of Carroll, Jessica Leeds and Natasha Stoynoff, who also testified that Trump assaulted them, at the ages Trump would have attacked them. We can all assume why the lawyers might have done that.

So, yes, she was in court to convince a jury of her side of the story. Carroll’s clothes made her look reliable and crisp, a vision of reliability. She came in each day smoothly coiffed and professionally attired in blazers, good coats and pleated suits. (A bit Gwyneth Paltrow.) She looked dignified, elegant, at ease with herself, in a white 1950s-ish boucle suit, or a deep-brown pleated shirtdress, or a white embroidered blazer.

NYT:

Her clothes were simple and tailored, with no visible logos. Neat. Respectful but not frumpy. Definitely not showy. Her hair was done in a controlled bob. She wore pantyhose, a generational tell. Her collars were often high and protective.

Out of such details, impressions are made. Out of such details, credibility is built. Do you believe her? She looked consistent and reliable, day in and day out. She did not waver — not in her style or her story.

I’ve spent a little time in Kansas courtrooms. I’ve covered a rape trials and domestic violence and murders.

So here’s what bothers me:

The idea that credibility as sexual assault accuser hinges on how well you as a woman dress.

On how “not frumpy” you can appear.

On how “smoothly coiffed and professionally attired” you can afford to be.

I want to be clear: I am not criticizing Carroll for making every attempt to use her skills and assets to get the verdict I believe she deserved. And I’d be a fool — yes — to think that none of it made any difference.

But I’m thinking of the frumpy women and girls I have seen testify at trials, the ones whose clothes did bear logos or simply weren’t that impressive, who were nonetheless in clear and deep distress because of what they had endured. And it anguishes me to think they would have been judged not on the stories they told, not on their apparent truthfulness, but on if they presented themselves stylishly or not.

Very often they didn’t.

So I’m not mad that NYT and WaPo decided to cover this aspect of the Trump trial. But I do wish they’d expanded their view somewhat, to consider in print how the dynamics they discussed affect the vast majority of sexual assault trials that don’t feature glossy magazine writers or billionaire former presidents.