Can drab clothes save the day?

Jacqueline Bisset is wrong to think women share the blame for #MeToo

SLOUGH, ENGLAND:

Have you been wistfully craving a spot of victim-blaming when it comes to women attracting unwanted male attention? Perhaps you have been perusing through stories of Blake Lively and Justin Baldoni's legal battles, or avidly reading up on Udit Narayan kissing female fans on stage and thought, "You know what's missing from this? Someone crying foul about inadequately cloaked women."

Well, this is your lucky day because 1970s actor Jacqueline Bisset has stepped up to fill that void. Before you say, "Jacqueline who?", all you need to know is that Bisset was a model and actor in her heyday with a healthy CV comprising appearances in Murder on the Orient Express (1974) and many more. More pertinently for our purposes, she is a woman that celebrity outlet Page Six deemed worthy of their time.

Modest clothing is no armour

"I understand as an idea, it's important that men behave, but I do really think it's important that women behave, too," explained Bisset. "I think how you dress, your subtext is very, very important," she continued. "It's very dangerous and not to be played with."

As we all know by now, much to the chagrin of film producer Harvey Weinstein, the #MeToo movement went viral in 2017 after a myriad of women who had had enough launched abuse and assault allegations against him. And if you feel that Weinstein is stale news by now, you can always turn to Neil Gaiman's fresh hell as he faces at least eight allegations of rape and sexual assault. Failing that, there is also disgraced rap mogul Diddy's ongoing legal battles as prosecutors find more and more women willing to testify that they, too, were assaulted by the hip-hop star.

Bisset graciously grants that men (such as Weinstein, Gaiman, and Diddy, although she does not name them) should "behave", but in the same breath, she implies that the women who have spoken against them should have been more mindful of their demeanour, body language, and wardrobe choices. In other words, she has proven to us that it is not judgemental mothers-in-law in Pakistani dramas who excel in victim-blaming. As a caveat, according to Page Six, she offers the helpful suggestion that women "need to learn the word 'no' or the F-word or something" to put an end to sexual harassment.

"You have to do it, and you can get through it without any problem," she advises, adding that she has never, throughout her career, experienced any harassment of any form.

Bisset is not alone in subscribing to the optimistic notion that drab clothing confers protected status. In 2017, actor Mayim Bialik wrote in the New York Times that she has managed to sidestep sexual harassment by choosing to dress modestly.

Not as easy as Bisset thinks

Unfortunately for women, not even the brownest, dullest, shapeless blob of an outfit can spare a woman from sexual exploitation if the atmosphere is right. That atmosphere, of course, can be anywhere – be it a crowded bus or an entertainment industry in a country where women do not generally dress the way Bisset assumes Western victims of sexual harassment can be found. Last year, during an online interview, filmmaker Bee Gul addressed head-on the lewd requests running rampant in the Pakistani showbiz industry, and her comments were ominous.

"It is so common that any girl who enters the industry considers it normal," declared Gul in a matter-of-fact tone, ripping to shreds the misguided notion that the industry could ever be "paak saaf". "It happens everywhere I know. Women are mentally prepared for it. They know that at some point, they will have to trade off their body or beauty."

Given the universal nature of sexual exploitation, then, it is a shame that Weinstein's victims or the women who have spoken up against Gaiman or Diddy didn't think of Bisset's brainwave and just vocalise their standpoint. Think of all the trouble they could have avoided if they had only expanded their vocabulary to 'no' and 'the F-word'! Also, as an aside, the next time we read about a man robbed in the streets at gunpoint, we should ponder whether or not he was really asking for it by flashing a wad of cash or brandishing his new phone and shouting "Come and get this!" In addition, we must also ask ourselves why this idiot man did not just say 'no' during this armed robbery to fend off his attackers because as Bisset has shown us, that is all it takes.

Of course, you could take Bisset's argument further and point out that we would never think to step outside without locking our houses and cars – and nor, for that matter, unlike our hypothetical male victim, would we think to flash a wallet or a phone in public (unless we despise that phone and want to pretend to someone at home that we lost it and have a cast-iron excuse for buying a new one). You could argue that, as Bisset so thoughtfully suggests, we should take as much care with our bodies as we do with our prized material possessions and shield them with yet more fabric to ward off hopeful harassers.

But as women in Karachi can testify, no amount of clothing can repel a harasser who is really determined to take that unwanted peek. Perhaps Bisset should throw on a burqa and take a stroll along Tariq Road or on the 11C bus to test her hypothesis on women's tailoring (or mannerisms) controlling the direction of the lecherous male gaze.

Actually, she need not bother making the trek all the way to Karachi and risk heat rash in a burqa. She could save herself the trouble and idly scroll through posts littering Pakistan-based women-centric social media groups. Those who are esteemed members of these groups already know that here lies a certified goldmine of reading material involving women who have been groped in public as they line up to pay for groceries or eyed up and down as if last year's sweat-soaked lawn outfit and giant dupatta is a seductive come hither sign. Drab clothes, sadly, do not confer any sort of protected status, despite what Bisset and Bialik may believe.