It seems inevitable, if unfair, that when a woman is vying for a prominent position in office, her outfit choices will be analyzed to a degree considerably higher than those of her male counterpart by simple existence of gender stereotypes.
I'm not comfortable leaving the apartment if the bed isn't made or a chair isn't tucked into the table.
No matter the candidate, every detail in a campaign is carefully and strategically framed for our consumption. The devil is in them.
When push comes to shove, no one really cares what you're wearing except you.
My eyes will never be blue; my bone structure will never allow for you to mistake me for a Scandinavian model.
The men who really get repelled by what you're wearing are a little shallow, and you probably don't want to date them anyway.
