Make a stand: fashion that gives a damn

Can fashion be political - and politics ever be fashionable? In an increasingly visually obsessed age, it needs to be.

In 1972, philosopher Marshall McLuhan predicted that "politics will eventually be replaced by imagery. The politician will be only too happy to abdicate in favour of his image, because the image will be so much more powerful than he could ever be".

As political journalists post photos on Twitter and the Prime Minister smiles for selfies at the mall, that seems scarily prophetic. Politicians should be judged for what they say, not what they wear but clothing and body language are the first line of communication for those in the public eye. It is never as important as the message - but it can certainly help deliver it.

In the book Power Dressing: First Ladies, Women Politicians & Fashion, Pamela Goblin wrote that for those in positions of power "clothing is a persuasive communication tool that not only announces party rhetoric but also, and most importantly, expresses how they wish to be perceived".

The chief curator of the Musee de la Mode et du Textile at the Louvre commented that for politicians' "efforts to inform potential voters and reassure faithful supporters, fashion has the power to enhance or distract from the objectives at hand".

Ask Barack Obama. The US President sparked a social media storm when he wore a tan suit to a White House press conference on the threat of ISIS. Did you read about that? No, you likely clicked instead on the story about that damned tan suit.

Obama is famously pragmatic when it comes to dressing, commenting on his wardrobe of suits to Vanity Fair in 2012: "You'll see I wear only grey or blue suits. I'm trying to pare down decisions. I don't want to make decisions about what I'm eating or wearing because I have too many other decisions to make."

It's a point of view that fascinates designer Karen Walker, whose current collection has a political background. She agrees that fashion can and should be political, as fashion is a mirror to what's going on socially - mentioning trousers' symbolism as part of the women's liberation movement, the re-appropriation of military fatigues by the antiwar movement and mid-70s punks' anti-Thatcherism.

"My personal point of view on people in power is that they should understand quality and culture because that says something about their standards and that applies to how they dress as much as anything."

Walker's latest collection, entitled The League, was inspired by suffragettes and "how they used every available space, including their clothing, as billboards for their message".

She emblazoned T-shirts, shirts and bags with bold slogans: including "Liberal, Miserable and Cynical", a line that could neatly sum up a certain kind of left-wing political discontent. Walker says the timing of the collection - in stores during an election campaign - was purely coincidental.

Walker's brush with politics touches on fashion's broader - and contentious - relationship. As the world becomes increasingly image-led, the power of clothes as communication gets ever stronger, with designers using their platform to stand for something meaningful.

Vivienne Westwood, fashion's staunchest political activist, continues to lend her name to various causes, from conscious consumption to climate change, bees to Bradley Manning, while Stella McCartney has challenged traditional attitudes of the fashion industry with her eco and ethical approach to business. USVogue editor Anna Wintour was one of the biggest fundraisers of Barack Obama's 2012 campaign, and has written about politics - and backed Hilary Clinton for 2016 - several times in the editor's letter in her magazine. Inspired by the slogan activism of Katharine Hamnett, Australian model Ollie Henderson initiated the Start the Riot project with political slogan T-shirts that encourage people to engage with politics and educate young people.

The problem is how to initiate genuine discussion rather than have these attempts come across as frivolous or gimmicky.

A similar problem exists for politicians, who must dress according to their position of power - look serious to portray serious messages, and never show an interest in something as silly as style for fear of not being taken seriously. See Metiria Turei and her "ugly" Adrienne Winkelmann jacket (according to style expert Judith Collins), Peter Dunne's "eccentric" bow ties or Laila Harre's grey-tinged campaign wardrobe.

"I just felt I needed a uniform for the campaign," she told the New Zealand Herald, seemingly having to defend her so-called "makeover".

The parade of suits and striped ties at last week's multiparty leaders' debate demonstrated that idea - even though those style choices are as carefully stage managed as every photo opportunity.

It wasn't always this way. An upcoming exhibition at Hawke's Bay Museum will showcase the political fashion of Whetu Tirikatene-Sullivan, New Zealand's longest serving female MP and a politician unafraid to embrace fashion.

Entering Parliament as a Labour MP in 1967, Tirikatene-Sullivan became known for her bold garments that incorporated Maori motifs, often by contemporary Maori artists. Her family gave a large number of these to the museum, with the exhibition opening later this month. (Labour's Napier candidate Stuart Nash and Auckland Central candidate Jacinda Ardern visited the curators last month.)

"It would have been easier for Mum to wear a tweed suit, but she gained international respect for putting Maoridom on the world stage through fashion," her daughter, May-Ana Tirikatene-Sullivan, explained to the museum.

That was then. Imagine a member of Parliament today confident enough to put New Zealand's creative talents on the world stage through fashion and their dress - at the same time as driving the country forward.