There’s a lot of talk about Michelle Obama and her general distaste for sleeves. (Hey, if I had her ripping triceps and biceps, I’d want to show them off, too, and would probably hold a small funeral for arm fabric near the White House vegetable patch.) But, alas, I don’t have her guns, so I wear—and fondly think about—sleeves.The other day I was looking at the red carpet looks of the guests attending the Met’s annual Museum Costume Institute Gala. I came across one look featuring giant, glorified sleeves on a fitted Dolce and Gabbana tuxedo. The look is Rihanna’s, and—perhaps importantly—this was her first public appearance since her ex-boyfriend/scumbag Chris Brown had allegedly beat her in February. You might call it a power tux, a declaration of her self-sufficiency, individuality, etc. It’s like she ditched Chris, raided his closet for his best formal attire, and then made it her own for everyone to see.
We all know that puffy sleeves and shoulder pads (and the power suit) were all the rage in the '80s, and that decade likely inspired Rihanna’s tux; but there’s another time period that Rihanna’s bold look brings to mind: the Elizabethan. Just take a look at these gigot (aka mutton) sleeves on Elizabeth. Or these. Like Rihanna’s, they’re pretty much cloth on steroids. Now, imagine Elizabeth sporting sleeves that fit her arms closely—or, if you can, without sleeves at all. She would loose her imposing look. She’d just seem top- and bottom-heavy, her arms powerless to do anything more than sign a wobbly "ER," her aspect no longer an elegant mountain of rich, structured cloth. Along with the long milky strands of pearls, the starched ruff, the wrinkleless and shadowless face, halo of vibrant red hair, and blooming skirt, these sleeves were a part of how she crafted a public image of herself in paint as a powerful, self-controlled, self-sufficient queen.
But back to Michelle for a moment. When the New Yorker ran a cover in March with three visions of her on a runway, in each vision she was wearing … sleeves. Yet on the inside there was short article by Washington Post fashion writer Robin Givhan that praised Michelle for her sleevenessless. Givhan writes:
Those arms represent personal time. They are evidence of a forty-five-year-old woman’s refusal to give up every free moment in service to husband, kids, and all the nagging distractions that could have filled her days and left her tuning in to “Oprah,” trying to figure out how she’d lost herself along the way. The arms imply vanity and power: two things that make many women uncomfortable and yet are fundamental to self-confidence.
First of all, encouraging women to be vain because the first lady is vain smacks of bad taste on several levels. But anyway, for those of us who are sweet on sleeves—batwing sleeves, bell sleeves, juliette sleeves, pagoda sleeves, raglan sleeves—just remember Elizabeth I and Rihanna. But please, please forget the tatoos on the latter.
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