(Jessie Satovsky/Contributing Illustrator)
At least twice a day I think about the moment in “Black Widow” where Yelena’s face lights up when Natasha approves of her utility vest and spends her next monologue discussing the number of pockets like an excitable child who just discovered cotton candy for the first time.
Men don’t get it. They don’t get why we love to show off the newfound pockets of dresses, or understand the happiness we feel when the button on the side of a coat is not just a fake sewed-tight layer of extra fabric, but somewhere we can put our phones or other trinkets. To be even clearer, women’s jeans pockets are on average 48% shorter and 6.5% narrower than those of men.
Pockets are political; they are gendered, explicitly-made fashion choices for women to be pretty to look at yet practically inconvenient.
Certainly, pockets developed with these gender norms. The poofy 16th century hoop skirts forced “purses” to be hung underneath the skirts, but by the time the dresses slimmed down and hugged our waists, having any sort of extra fabric seeping through was strictly socially prohibited. But in each era, the goal of these norms is the same: keeping things hidden. Today, men can stuff their belongings into the front two pockets of their jeans and not feel suffocated – the bulging pockets aren’t frowned upon. But for women, our pants are sometimes cinched so tightly we don’t even fathom trying. At most, our phones are held in our hands or riskily placed in our back pockets.
If you want to get into the nitty gritty details of why women’s pockets are dysfunctional and missized, this Pudding survey perfectly explains why women can bond so deeply over pockets. The study even goes so far to measure the pockets from jeans at 20 different companies, as well as an interactive platform allowing people to see how different items fit in men’s and women’s pockets. It gives a visual representation on why women continue to suffer with pocket sizes. The inconveniences of carrying around a small pouch or a backpack when a well-sized pocket will suffice bewilders me. Sometimes, I wonder if I should just shop in the men’s section instead.
The history of the handbag and Sigmund Freud’s psychosexual analysis of the item are extensively covered, so I won’t sit here and rehash it all. The point is, even the earliest modern handbag from the Victorian era – the “reticule” – was a novelty. Back then, people liked it. Not having to hide personal belongings anymore was considered revolutionary. Toting around visible handbags perhaps also meant showing off their personalities and individual identities. Instead of trying to store everything under the throes of their clothing and the shadows of men, women felt as if they were finally free to carry around whatever they wanted.
Utility and functionality go out the window when it comes to pockets. Pockets are a boundary between the public and private spheres of life, a wall that continues to be challenged today. Thus, the freedom to express and to choose what we want to bring out to the public is not always completely our choice. Women are limited to what they can take with them, whether to hold things in their hands, figure out where to keep their bags or to uncomfortably have a phone sticking out their pockets. For me, this limit in autonomy is slightly rectified by my absurdly large lanyard outfitted with far too many carabiners. My friends scorn its size and weight, mockingly nicknaming it my “cat bell,” but it offers me the functionality I so desperately crave from my clothes. Perhaps in the past, the attachment to an individual handbag and not asking for a man to hold onto our belongings was a sign of freedom and liberation. But the question of “Where do I put my things?” remains. I still remember my high school graduation, all of us lined up alphabetically, with the girls in cult-like floor-length wedding dresses and the boys in tailored tuxedos. With nowhere to store our phones, I watched a flurry of girls, myself included, ask if one of the guys in front of us could hold onto our phone in their suit pockets. The guys in front of me opened up their suit jackets in laughter, comparing the number of phones they were carrying.
Bags and purses might be cute, but they are symbolic of the sexism deeply entrenched in our fashion and our economy. Luxury brands like Louis Vuitton, Hermès and Chanel could rake in far more profits when women are forced to buy purses to go along with their outfits. In fact, the handbag industry in 2021 is valued at $49.12 billion, one primarily fed by women in dire need of a place to carry their necessities. In essence, the handbag becomes a part of an outfit, an extra piece of clothing, which must also be updated in accordance with the ebbs and flows of the fashion tide.
All this is to point out the simplicity of nonfunctional pockets speaks to a far greater discussion on sexism in clothing. But it doesn’t even begin to mention the lack of inclusivity for gender-noncomforming people. Not everyone will carry a handbag, a tote or a purse everywhere they go, and expecting them to do so reeks of privilege and asininity.
Concealment is a form of power, and it’s being taken away from us. Women deserve deeper pockets. We deserve more pockets and not have to pay extra for a handbag because our pockets don’t do the job. Luckily, the future of fashion is turning toward this new direction. Trends from this fall are hyping up baggier pants with bigger pockets, at least, big enough to fit our hands when we don’t know what to do with them. Fashion technology has developed far enough to maintain an aesthetic while just extending the end seam of a pocket a couple centimeters longer, so it’s up to consumers to keep pushing for inclusivity.
The future of pockets is bright, but it shouldn’t be coming in waves. Options for baggier pants and deeper pockets should not be on a seasonal timeline or by the hands of the fashion gods, they should be permanent. It’s time to pocket old gender norms, and give women the pocket space we deserve.
Sophia Ling (24C) is from Carmel, Indiana.
Sophia Ling (she/her) (24C) is from Carmel, Indiana and double majoring in Political Science and Sociology. She wrote for the Current in Carmel. She also loves playing guitar and piano, cooking and swimming. In her free time, she learns new card tricks and practices typing faster.
