UNDER HIS … ADMINISTRATION
Silent Threads, Loud Erasure: How GOP Women Weaponize Wardrobes to Unspool Democracy : As we stand on the cusp of 2030, nearly 45% of Millennial and Gen Z women will find themselves single, politically engaged, and culturally savvy. In this pivotal moment, where autonomy in culture and fashion intertwine with political power, a stark reality emerges: not all women are allies, especially those within the modern GOP.
Ivanka Trump’s forest green power suits and Karoline Leavitt’s powder-blue pussy bows aren’t mere fashion statements—they are the coded armor of complicity, reminiscent of The Handmaid’s Tale. As the GOP champions the SAVE Act, poised to disenfranchise 69 million women through stringent name change requirements, these women cloak voter suppression in the elegance of Oscar de la Renta and Chanel. Ivanka’s emerald Dior nods to Serena Joy’s calculated dominance, while Leavitt’s pastel tweed mirrors Gilead’s "redeemed" matriarchs—aestheticizing the silencing of 21.3 million undocumented voters they help oppress. Their wardrobes scream loyalty to a party eroding choice: Ivanka’s façade of "women’s empowerment" conceals defunded global aid programs, while Leavitt’s sorority-ready blouses whitewash Project 2025’s theocratic playbook.
This curated femininity—weaponized through optics—echoes the chilling dystopia of The Handmaid’s Tale. The SAVE Act mirrors Gilead’s systemic erasure, where women like Serena Joy enforce oppression through performative submission. Ivanka’s emerald power suits and Leavitt’s pastel blouses aestheticize compliance, much like Gilead’s “redeemed” matriarchs whose polished appearances mask the brutal realities they uphold.
Their wardrobes distract from policies that:
Defund global aid for marginalized women (see: Ivanka’s defunct W-GDP program).
Penalize election workers—a 70% female workforce—for minor clerical errors.
Eliminate online voter registration, gutting grassroots efforts led by organizations like When We All Vote.
This isn’t governance—it’s POLITICAL theater, cloaking voter suppression in Oscar de la Renta elegance.
Republican women aren’t bystanders—they’re architects. Project 2025’s female drafters, like Mandy Gunasekara and Christina Pushaw, weaponize policy to codify control over bodies and ballots. Their role mirrors Amy Coney Barrett’s paradox: a self-described “minivan mom” who broke glass ceilings only to dismantle rights for others.
Barrett’s online abuse when deviating from far-right orthodoxy reveals the patriarchy’s trap: women must enforce its agenda but remain silent when they dissent. As Elana Sztokman notes, these women “vigorously uphold” systems that work for them, even as 56% of Black women face economic precarity.
The fabric they sew is fascism. Each stitch—be it Ivanka’s pearl-clad inaugural gowns or Leavitt’s $900 cashmere armor—distracts from policies gutting abortion access and purging voter rolls. They trade solidarity for status, their curated femininity legitimizing a system where 56% of Black women struggle economically while GOP-aligned women "keep sweet" in designer heels. The SAVE Act’s bureaucratic gauntlet, coupled with their Serena Joy cosplay, isn’t irony—it’s ideology. Their silence isn’t absence; it’s a battle cry against progress, sewing democracy’s shroud in silk and wool.
The SAVE Act’s bureaucratic gauntlet, coupled with their Serena Joy cosplay, isn’t irony—it’s ideology. Their silence isn’t absence; it’s a battle cry against progress, sewing democracy’s shroud in silk and wool.
Republican women justify their support for the SAVE Act through three primary arguments, yet evidence and critics expose these claims as disingenuous covers for voter suppression:
"Election Integrity" Over Inclusion: Supporters like Rep. Chip Roy dismiss disenfranchisement concerns as "absurd speculation," framing the SAVE Act as a defense against non-citizen voting—an issue statistically nonexistent. Republican women echo this narrative, prioritizing unfounded fears of fraud over the 34% of women potentially barred from voting due to name changes. By weaponizing "security" rhetoric, they sidestep the bill’s disproportionate harm to married women, transgender individuals, and voters of color.
Procedural Gaslighting: GOP spokespersons claim the SAVE Act’s documentation requirements are "not new," suggesting women can easily provide marriage certificates or court orders. However, experts highlight the bureaucratic nightmare of obtaining such documents, particularly for rural, elderly, or low-income women. Privileged Republican women downplay these hurdles, framing voter suppression as personal responsibility.
Partisan Survival Strategy: With 61% of women under 30 supporting Democrats, the SAVE Act serves as a tactical tool to stifle opposition. By endorsing it, Republican women signal loyalty to a party grappling with dwindling female support, trading gender solidarity for political relevance in a Trump-aligned hierarchy.
Critics argue this complicity mirrors Serena Joy from The Handmaid’s Tale—using proximity to power to enforce systems erasing autonomy. While figures like Ivanka Trump, and Karoline Leavitt tout "empowerment," their silence on policies gutting reproductive and voting rights reveals a Faustian bargain—prioritizing party over progress. As civil rights leaders warn, the SAVE Act isn’t about security; it’s about maintaining power at any cost.
Amy Coney Barrett’s ascent—a "minivan mom" turned Supreme Court justice—masks a darker reality: her rulings reinforce patriarchal control. While celebrated for embodying "feminine genius," her votes threaten to criminalize abortion nationwide, gut birth control access, and legitimize voter suppression. Her participation in dismantling Roe v. Wade and her openness to cases threatening Griswold v. Connecticut mark her not as a pioneer but as a paradox. And yet, when she strays even slightly from the hard-right script, she is pilloried—not by the left, but by the very machinery that elevated her.Her role—like Leavitt’s pastel blouses—is performative, masking a system that punishes women who challenge it.
Ivanka and Leavitt’s sartorial choices aren’t incidental. Emerald green symbolizes Serena Joy’s calculated dominance, while powder blue aestheticizes post-birth submission in Gilead. These colors sanitize policies that:
Deplete Title X clinics, limiting birth control access for low-income women.
Revive the Comstock Act, criminalizing abortion nationwide.
Purge voter rolls using error-ridden databases, further disenfranchising naturalized citizens.
This isn’t governance—it’s political theater. A well-lit stage where women in designer heels deliver lines scripted by patriarchy, each thread of their wardrobe stitched with intent to suppress. These aren’t incidental choices; they are sartorial smoke screens that obscure the machinery of disenfranchisement.
Republican women are not merely present; they are pivotal…Their proximity to power is not resistance—it’s reinforcement.
Republican women are not merely present; they are pivotal. They are the silent stitchers of systemic rollback—architects of autocracy cloaked in cashmere. Project 2025’s blueprint wasn’t drafted solely by men—it bears the fingerprints of female operatives like Mandy Gunasekara and Christina Pushaw, who pen policies that target bodies and ballots with bureaucratic precision. Their proximity to power is not resistance—it’s reinforcement.
As feminist scholar Elana Sztokman aptly puts it, these women “vigorously uphold” the very systems that ensure their visibility while erasing others—particularly the 56% of Black women in America navigating economic precarity. They trade sisterhood for status, autonomy for access, and solidarity for proximity to patriarchal approval.
Pam Bondi is another key figure in this performance of power. Florida’s former attorney general, she gained national attention not for expanding justice but for defending Donald Trump during his first impeachment trial—delivering her argument with the poise of a pageant queen and the conviction of a loyal foot soldier. Her career has been defined by aesthetic polish and partisan allegiance, from protecting predatory for-profit colleges to accepting a questionable donation from the Trump Foundation shortly before declining to investigate Trump University. With her TV-polished blowout and lawyerly charm, Bondi helped launder executive misconduct with a smile. She, like others, reaps power not in spite of patriarchy but because of it—serving as both enforcer and beneficiary.
This is not fiction—it’s policy in stilettos. The coordinated efforts of Republican women in power, from Ivanka Trump to Pam Bondi, don’t merely reflect internalized misogyny; they represent a strategic embrace of performative femininity to mask a violent dismantling of rights. By cloaking oppression in soft pastels and polished rhetoric, these women make patriarchal control palatable, even aspirational. But beneath the curated images lies a sobering truth: rights are being erased not just by men, but by women willing to exchange collective freedom for personal power. As voters, observers, and participants in democracy, we must resist the urge to be seduced by the spectacle. The future depends on seeing through the theater—and voting accordingly.
On April 10, 2025, the United States Congress passed the SAVE Act — a bill cloaked in patriotism, but designed to unravel the thread of democracy and women's voting rights. Under the guise of “election integrity,” the Act erects new barriers to registration, targeting the very mechanisms that empower the electorate, especially women of color, young voters, and grassroots organizers. It codifies suspicion, not security. With this legislation, the theater of governance has reached a new crescendo: policies written in the language of democracy but staged to disenfranchise.
This moment is not isolated — it’s the culmination of a long campaign to erode women’s political power while aestheticizing their complicity. From the performative femininity of Serena Joy archetypes in emerald suits and pastel blouses to GOP women drafting blueprints of repression behind closed doors, the erosion of rights is being orchestrated with precision and poise. The SAVE Act is not just a bill — it’s a signal. A warning. And a call to action.
Because if democracy is unraveling, it is up to those it seeks to silence to stitch it back together — vote by vote, voice by voice.