Why Bell Bottoms Have Always Been a Battle Cry
- Madison E. Goldberg
- May 5
- 9 min read
"An artist's duty is to reflect the times and the situations in which I find myself. When every day is a matter of survival, how can you not reflect the times?"
In 2025, the public is coming to terms with the notion that fashion has often held an unwitting mirror to the political landscape. This year kicked off with the inauguration of President Donald J. Trump in his second nonconsecutive term, and, mere weeks later, Pulitzer Prize winner Kendrick Lamar took his coveted halftime show slot at the Super Bowl to televise the revolution. Lamar delivered a layered, deeply nuanced performance underscoring the rich histories of the Black American experience. And he did it all in a pair of Celine flare jeans.
By the late 1960s and early 1970s, thousands of young American men were drafted to fight in the Vietnam War. Flared trousers were already an American military staple throughout the early 20th century. This cut quickly earned a new reputation during the Vietnam era, when flare jeans first hit the fashion scene and were more commonly referred to as bell bottoms.
The cut of the bell bottom was then adopted in various materials. Denim, the most accessible fabric for working-class consumers, was worn by both men and women throughout the hippie counterculture movement, as well as in emerging music scenes, like California folk-rock and New York City’s underground disco floors. The cut of these pants, once traditionally masculine, came to no longer conform to a gender, as the roles of men and women in American society were rapidly changing. It was a time in which Stevie Nicks’ capes and long skirts were as eye-catching as Cher’s shimmery two-piece ab-bearing ensembles.
Throughout the 1970s, states followed California in legalizing no-fault divorces. By 1973, Roe v. Wade codified access to birth control and legalized abortion; by 1974, women could apply for their own credit cards. The role of the nuclear family was deteriorating in importance, and the freedoms of young American women opened new paths to opportunities that their mothers could not access in their youth. In the fashion world, this allowed for a new era of experimentation.
Personal stylist and ethical fashion educator Lakyn Carlton spoke to me about this period’s notable impact on the world of personal style. Social and political upheaval left both men and women feeling experimental in their wardrobes and sexual expression. “The thing about the 1970s, about menswear in the 1970s, especially among Black men, was it was a lot more feminine. Not only were they wearing bell bottoms, they were wearing platforms, and they had long, permed hair,” says Carlton.
“I think of the Isley Brothers, and I think of all of the funk in that part of the Black community and Black music, how the men were not afraid to look a little feminine. And you know, they were wearing blouses, right? They had their chests out and were trying to really claim it.”
Over 50 years later, the distinct flair of the 1970s is a faint echo in a monochromatic, clean-girl world. In 2023, online circles forecasted new fashion trends leaning in an ultra-minimalist direction. It was the first year of being outside post-COVID, a time in which people experimented with their personal style from the comfort of their homes and behind a mask. By 2023, people started playing it safe. For men, this meant abandoning their Harry Styles-inspired painted nails and pierced ears, instead opting for the viral old-money aesthetic. For women, this meant glossed lips, sleek hair, a touch of mascara, and a lack of personal accessories dominated TikTok’s For You page, opposite videos of Nara Smith’s latest home-made concoction and Ballerina Farms’ newest pregnancy announcement. As the Internet machine tends to do, many of these trends were taken from minority communities, who often relied on slicked-back hair and minimal makeup in a beauty industry that lacked inclusivity. This very counterintuitive, conservative-coded phenomenon is at the center of the clean-girl, quiet luxury, tradwife world. On the contemporary counterculture end, things look very different.
Similar to what the fashion world sees today, after the 1970s came the shiny, maximalist, corporate 1980s. The Reagan administration saw what is now referred to as the “mom jeans” revolution, along with looser silhouettes and shoulder pads. As women began to rise on the corporate ladder for the first time, they started “power dressing” in new ways throughout the rest of the decade and into the early 1990s. Among the most iconic red carpet looks of this era is Julia Roberts’ menswear-meets-maximalism Armani suit at the 1990 Golden Globes. This trend is recently back on the rise, as Ayo Edebiri — soon to co-star in After Hunt opposite Roberts — brought a fresh take on this silhouette to the 2025 Golden Globes, with Nicole Kidman also opting for a pantsuit instead of a dress.
Carlton is noticing that her women clients in Los Angeles, many of whom lean left and are looking for new ways to differentiate their personal style, are also following suit (literally). “A lot of my women clients who wear womenswear are leaning more into androgyny. And I think it's really interesting. It's something I've been trying to sort of figure out and put my finger on. I think it has the capacity to say different things for everyone,” says Carlton.
“But I do think that there is this idea of strength behind more masculinity, which is true. It is not the best truth, but it is true that we associate these styles as power dressing, if you will, [like] the 1980s, right? There is sort of a strength with being less likely to be walked all over. I think it is the idea that we won't lay down [sic] and be treated a certain way. I do think you can say that with femininity, though, and I do aim to lean into being able to do that, to not necessarily use this stereotypical idea of masculinity as what is strong.”
As for how men can find personal style, Carlton anticipates there is hope yet for young men in a red-pilled world. “It's not the same as the women who are seeking security in masculinity, but it's men who are more like, ‘You know what? I don't actually want to fit into this rigid box. I don't want to be associated with this misogynistic super-conservative movement.’ I'm not going to say something that they might agree with, and say that they're possibly adopting the aesthetics of being more experimental in a way that would mislead [about their sexuality]. But I do think they also have their own kind of subconscious thing going on where it's like, you know, ‘This is bad, and I want to push back in some way.’ I want to believe that some of them are not adopting these beliefs so they think ‘Maybe I can at least hang out with a woman, or speak to one.’”
The pendulum is always swinging back and forth, and while Trump is not personally dictating women’s fashion, politics and fashion are still just as intertwined as ever. With this all in mind, developing a unique personal style is about to be a mark of rebellion, and it all started with Kendrick Lamar’s aforementioned halftime show.
This year, the runway is reflective of this rebellious energy. Flare denim and pants are trending at the same time as the return of boho-chic, a style widely associated with 1970s counterculture and the 2010s Coachella revival, and widely pioneered in the high fashion world by labels like Isabel Marant, and, this season, Chloé, Valentino, and Fendi. Boho-chic is among the most accessible fashion trends, with eclectic vintage pieces and western boots only a Goodwill trip away for the average consumer.
At the same time, tweed women’s sets are resurfacing, with brands outside of the typical Chanel silhouette opting to present designs in the same vein. Glamour referred to this phenomenon as “loud luxury,” a change from the logo-free, quiet luxury designer pieces that hit 2024 runways. This trend is far less attainable for the everyday consumer. Now, personal style is viewed as a way to read a person upon first impression. The online lexicon has placed fashion aesthetics into cores, including coastal-grandmother core, old money core, fisherman core, cowboy core, and more. It demands the question: is originality or branded designer pieces the way to be revered most? And, perhaps most importantly, what does personal style have to do with politics? As of 2022, Pew Research Center found that 62% of female social media users aged 18-29 reported that their favorite influencers swayed their purchasing habits. Oftentimes, the two are inextricably linked – such can be said of the ongoing Republican makeup trend on TikTok, and how progressive women are looking out for new ways to differentiate themselves from their conservative counterparts.
Deshon Varnado, an Assistant Professor of Fashion and Justice at Parsons College of Art and Design, has insight into why these two topics feel more tethered than ever. “An artist's duty is to reflect the times and the situations in which I find myself. When every day is a matter of survival, how can you not reflect the times? When I think about the relationship between fashion and politics, Nina Simone's words immediately come to mind — like literature, music, and art, fashion serves as a cultural mirror, responding to and predicting political shifts,” says Varnado.
“For instance, consider how the Feminist Movement empowered women to popularize the pantsuit or how the Civil Rights Movement made the Black Panther aesthetic a symbol of resistance. Sustainability laws also shape the future of ethical fashion and political moments, dictating what we wear and why. While it's common to see a designer or a brand utilize fashion as a tool to make a statement, even the person with little to no interest in fashion uses garments to create a statement, intentionally or subconsciously.”
Another part of the ever-evolving relationship between fashion and politics is the issue of environmental sustainability, which has been largely politicized by the GOP. Amid the threat to withdraw from the Paris Agreement, the mass firings of National Park workers, and the end of the Chevron Deference, shopping secondhand has become the norm for many young Americans aiming to limit their carbon footprint. The Seattle Times reported this year that 83% of Gen Z consumers are willing to shop secondhand.
“At the same time, fashion can also predict political shifts. We've seen an increase in DIY and thrifting culture, which is a clear indicator of the values of our youth and has paralleled the growing political discussions around climate change,” says Varnado.
These shifts do not solely affect the average consumer, but politicians themselves, too. Former Vice President Kamala Harris solely wore pantsuits throughout her 2024 presidential campaign, challenging the norms of dress for the women in politics who came before her, both in silhouette and in platforming new designers. Instead of the typical Oscar De La Renta and Chanel gowns and matching sets, Harris wore progressive labels like Chloé and independent American designers (namely, Sergio Hudson). Instead of the traditional femininity of the 1960s fashion looks worn by Jacqueline Kennedy-Onassis and the simple skirt set silhouettes worn by Laura Bush in the early aughts, Harris opted to bring the aforementioned power-dressing technique to the White House.
“Public figures, particularly women, often use their wardrobe to challenge norms, yet they face criticism when dismantling stereotypes about what they are 'allowed' to wear. From politicians wearing bold colors to reject traditional femininity to celebrities embracing androgyny to challenge gender roles, fashion becomes a statement on shifting societal expectations. Ultimately, fashion serves as a reaction and predictor of the political climate and a cultural barometer that reflects social values,” says Varnado.
The conservative indicators rising in our culture via the clean girl aesthetic, ultra-minimalism, and more, coming in tandem with Kendrick Lamar’s viral flare jeans, stimulate the conversation surrounding what truly defines rebellion or resistance, versus a mere trend. With subtle neutrals and slim silhouettes on the rise for the average consumer to blend into the background of the global landscape, the audacious bell bottom, once a symbol of the hippie counterculture, is regaining its role in liberalism and defiant dressing.
Varnado questions whether Lamar’s sold-out jeans allow for revolutionary groups to organize — or for the fashion item to become absorbed into the trend cycle.
“Kendrick’s halftime jeans from Celine sold out immediately following the show, proving how a single moment of cultural defiance can quickly be absorbed into the mainstream. This raises an interesting tension — can fashion still serve as rebellion when it becomes a trend? I ask that question, considering the many people who bought the jeans simply because Kendrick wore them, which speaks to his influence,” says Varnado.
Varnado has hope for the future of fashion regardless of the speedy trend cycles in a digital world — namely due to the heightened engagement his students have shown this semester. “Students explore subject positions and the concept of intersectionality. While they have the creative freedom to curate their work based on their own aesthetics, they inherently weave their political and personal beliefs into everything they do following this workshop. They learn how to bridge theory with creative practice, ensuring that their work reflects, in some way — whether through a minute detail or a bold statement — who they are now and who they aspire to be in this world. Participating in the fashion system itself is a political act,” Varnado tells me.
Whether they be bell-bottoms, pantsuits, or platforms, fashion’s next look will be watched under a microscope — and go down in history as a sign of the times. 🌀
These interviews were edited and condensed for clarity.
Madison E. Goldberg is an entertainment and culture journalist, narrator of the news, and a former Jersey girl gone west to Los Angeles. She is often seen taking the world by storm in cowgirl boots in search of the best matcha latte. Her words have appeared in Billboard, The Boston Globe, What’s Trending, and more. You can snoop her weekly musings on Substack at Words From My Wits’ End.
