A couple of weeks ago I was out noshing some delectable Mexican cuisine for Cinco de Mayo with one of my girlfriends and two of the guys. We sat around a circular patio table in the warm evening air, nibbled on guac and quesadillas, and discussed pockets. I honestly can’t remember how I breached the topic, just that I was dying to know how men felt about – or if they even thought about – pockets.
You see, one too many times I’ve been swindled by the fashion industry into buying pants with no fucking pockets, pants that look and appear to have those useful little treasure pouches, but really just have a series of seams stitched to create the illusion of functionality. What the fuck. It’s nearly one hundred years after women won the right to vote, and here we are as a society, systematically denying women pockets. Since Coco Chanel boldly began incorporating pockets into women’s jackets in the 1930s (and it really caught on) I am, let me use my father’s word here, flabbergasted that the fight for pockets is still a thing.
So when asked if, upon trying on and deciding to purchase a pair of pants, the guys felt the urge to validate the authenticity of their pockets, I was naturally met with some strange looks. “Uh, no,” they said, eying me with queer curiosity. “I never really think about it.”
Boom. And there you have it: pocket privilege in its unbridled form, rearing its cavalier head like King Minos and damning women to whichever circle of hell involves carrying a purse forever. One gender must actively seek out and certify the legitimacy of its pockets and the other has probably never pondered pocket credibility in the first place.
I was once criticized for realizing my pockets were fake after I bought a pair of pants. What my friend failed to realize as he poked fun, of course, was the asinine absurdity of the situation. I never would have imagined I would be a victim of pocket sexism or faux pocket styles. The horror! Adorning pants with fake pockets literally defeats the purpose: a safe, hands free storage space for personal belongings. Pockets were never originally about fashion when men and women tied small bags around their waists and under clothing to store coins and cakes.
Actually, pocket fashion didn’t become a topic of interest until it was decided that women’s clothes should be sleek and form-fitting in the 1800s. Go figure. Women being historically denied pockets to look skinny shouldn’t surprise me at all, really, and yet I find I’m still irritated. In fact, I really resent the presumption that women favor fashion over functionality. Men are blessed with deep pockets for carrying all the things and women are cursed with handbags.
Oh, and you know what’s even worse than faux pockets? The small, narrow ones that insult you with their lack of purpose. They pretty much scream “The only important thing you need to carry is lip gloss!” which is absolutely infuriating. What am I going to do with a pocket smaller than a Starburst?
The funny thing is the fashion industry is missing out. If they started advertising pockets like they do long and short style jeans women would go nuts. Some of my favorite clothes have the best pockets. Baggy college sweatpants in which my Smart phone actually fits comfortably, light summery dresses where I can stash my keys on an impromptu walk, and poofy winter jackets with secret compartments that keep my ID, iPod and, credit card safe while I ski.
Speaking of technology, my boss last year was very adamant about not using cell phones in front of students because phones were against district policy. I know, old school and impractical, but that was his thing. So he called us all into a meeting after school one day and lectured us about technology in the 21st century. He said he didn’t even want to see staff carrying around phones in their hands anymore.
Photo via carlyjbrown.com
My face: ____ Yup, blank. I’m stuck working in professional dress often without pockets or with bastard, little half pockets in an urban school known to have a few kids with sticky fingers. Keeping my phone on me is not only an issue of practicality, because yes, it IS a resource and I don’t want it stolen, but also one of safety. My room doesn’t have a phone and the buzzer to page the office is, I’m not joking, located in a closet in the far corner of the room. Plus the PA doesn’t work anyways so usually it’s just me and the secretary going “Hello?” “HELLO!” “Hello??” “WHAT!?” So in order to call administrators, I use my Galaxy. And I’d really like somewhere to keep my phone that doesn’t involve me getting breast cancer.
History alludes to the likely possibility that restricting women’s pockets was a deliberate attempt to restrict women’s power and independence. Women had nowhere to safely carry money, weapons, business items, or personal trinkets with discretion. Thus, they were denied both privacy and freedom in the social sphere and were bound to rely on men to remediate the issue of storage at the expense of their own sovereignty. In fact, the Rational Dress Society, founded in 1881, rallied women to dress for comfort, health, and functionality by ditching constrictive corsets and donning comfy, useful clothing such as trousers, which promoted not only freedom of movement, but freedom from rigid gender roles.
Personally, I’m not comfortable with the fact that only three generations ago it would have been a thing for my grandmother to wear pants and have coat pockets. I’m thankful I was born an 80s child because back then I surely would have been arrested for crossdressing and exploiting the glory of men’s pockets. Seriously though, what’s up with women’s fashion in 2018? It’s crazy to think women are out in the world making wild discoveries in science, traveling across continents in their spare time, and raising babies, and that miraculously they’re often doing it all without pockets.