The Female Gaze, as told through Contemporary Media (and Furthered Through Fashion)
Written by Katherine Rubinstein
In a 2023 New York Times Opinion piece entitled ‘Sofia Coppola and All the Sad Girls,’ television writer and film critic Emily Yoshida recalls a verse from the Gospel of Luke shared during Christmas mass: “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” Jesus is born, the word is spreading, and Bethlehem is up in arms about this miraculous child wonder, yet Mary takes the moment to herself in contemplation, creating a sacred space of her own. This world that is created by Mary is profound, an isolation that derives beauty from its affirming and romantic portrayal of melancholy. From this, the female gaze emerges – a perspective rooted in introspection and the acknowledgment of internal experience.
Theoretical Foundations
Film theorist Laura Mulvey's 1975 essay, “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” introduced the concept of the male gaze — a sexualized lens through which women are depicted in media as desirable objects. This perspective emphasizes women's attractiveness and passivity, reinforcing male dominance by focusing on how men view and control women's bodies and personalities. The female gaze, however, portrays women as individuals with agency and complexity, often centering their desires, experiences, and emotions as sources of strength.
It also extends to male personas, offering a nuanced perspective that challenges gender norms while celebrating traditional conceptions of femininity. Though Mulvey's theory has been foundational in film and media studies, it has faced criticism, notably from bell hooks, for its lack of intersectionality with other aspects of identity, like race. Despite these critiques, Mulvey's ideas remain general and significant in encompassing real and pressing phenomena within media representation.
Theoretical Foundations
It must be noted that gaze pertains to the identity of the viewer more so than the semblance of aesthetic itself, serving as a way to categorize the viewer rather than the subject that is being viewed. Lauren Michele Jackson of The New Yorker uses the work of mid-century French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan to push her thesis as she discusses gender gaze, using his research to suggest that the act of looking is fundamental to identity formation. During what Lacan calls the mirror stage, an infant obtains a sense of self through engaging with their reflection, a process by which could be seen in how audiences relate to art.
This contemporary media, whether in film as argued by Jackson, or even as far as through music, persona and photography, acts as this border that separates the observer and the observed, thus giving the observer an opportunity to relate to and understand who they are through watching someone else. Jackson adds research from the famous Sigmund Freud to compliment that there is also a sense of voyeurism in simply observing, proving that though “the subject understands herself via the image reflected back at her,” she may also take “pleasure objectifying whatever, or whomever, she sees.” This suggests that gendered gazes reflect both personal desires and perceptions of the world.
There is immense power in the female gaze becoming increasingly popular in a traditionally male-dominated industry. Standards for how women should present themselves — and how they desire and are desired — are evolving, amplifying diverse perspectives and fostering a richer understanding of femininity in society.
The Female Gaze in Feminine Cinema
It’s no wonder that Yoshida traces the rest of her NYT piece praising director Sofia Coppola’s profound translation of this feminine introspection onto the big screen. Iconoclastic feminist cinema was not created by her, of course, but more so significantly evolved through her distinct style that paints the worlds of her female characters as reflective of their emotions, rather than explaining them explicitly through dialogue.
Coppola is the godmother of these aesthetics, consistently instilling familiar scenes with romanticism. Rather than illustrating female characters with passive femininity, she illustrates them as active, and complex human beings, enchanting in their relatability.
This prioritization of the female perspective is consistently evident throughout Coppola's work, from the release of the 2023 biopic Priscilla following the enormous success of Baz Luhrmann’s 2022 Elvis, to films like The Virgin Suicides(1999), Marie Antoinette (2006), and The Beguiled (2017), among others.
The Female Gaze in Feminine Cinema
This nuanced iconography Coppola has worked to establish is nurtured through the costuming and fashion of the characters she follows. Frequent collaborator Nancy Steiner brings Coppola’s vision to life, ensuring every wardrobe choice reflects character development and mood. From the thrifted outfits of the Lisbon sisters in The Virgin Suicides to the evolving color palette in Priscilla, each decision is intentional and deeply resonant.
It is this authenticity in costuming that the camera captures so viscerally, forging a connection between the characters and the audience. Coppola’s films continue to inspire the fashion world, celebrating ensembles not for their luxury but for their ability to tell honest, feminine stories. Her work serves as a reminder that clothing can be a vessel for narrative and emotion, elevating the mundane into something extraordinary.
Whimsical Narratives: Petra Collins and Escapist Photography
Another artist who flawlessly conveys the female gaze is photographer Petra Collins. I first became familiar with her work when she collaborated with Alexa Demie for their 2021 photo series Fairy Tales. Demie’s character in the HBO series Euphoria was already a phenomenon to me in and of itself: her confidence was magnetic. Unapologetic and intimidating, her character was defined by the courage she held in her convictions. Fairy tales, especially considering their harrowing history, often illustrate humanity’s simultaneous affection and disdain for women — for instance, the maiden’s tragedy and the conceptualization of witches.
In Fairy Tales, Collins and Demie reclaim this narrative, placing agency in characters who are so often denied it. Collins describes their collaboration as a form of escapism, using stories and characters in mundane settings to create feminine refuge. This aligns with her typical work, which often revolves around whimsical narratives. Her audience is drawn in by the way she entwines her personal experience in her art, sharing experiences that are deeply informed by gender. Whether it’s through Olivia Rodrigo music videos, Skims campaigns, or countless other projects, Collins has a keen eye for depicting a new world — or, in the case of Fairy Tales, an uncanny, supernatural one — as sanctuary.
Prosthetics and shibari transform Demie into a strange yet seductive creature, seamlessly inhabiting both liminal and sacred spaces like parking lots and childhood bedrooms. These modifications act as costuming, weaving a rich tapestry of fantasy, curiosity, and emotional intellect exclusive to the feminine experience. Whether it be through the slime Demie finds herself covered in or the pointy prosthetic tips of her ears, the styling in Fairy Tales conveys the beauty of one’s innermost feelings, serving as a pathway to enlightenment through the commemoration of the supernatural and the natural, and the subsequent exploration of fear.
Pop Stardom and the Female Gaze
My fascination with Addison Rae’s iconography stems from how her team channels feelings of lustful immortality through sexuality. She isn’t necessarily a “pop star” in the traditional sense, but rather a persona. Her appeal doesn’t stem from her musicality – it’s her entire aesthetic. Through her discography, music videos, and online presence, her audience is immersed in a carefree, enigmatic retreat, as if you’re dancing in the mirror alongside her.
The music video for her latest single “Aquamarine” was styled by Dara Allen, who describes the inspiration for her wardrobe as “creating a language for the Aqua character that was about being free in that kind of space. It's sort of like, you're unafraid to make others uncomfortable because you're so comfortable in what you're doing... you take the mask off and you're free." The video pays tribute to past fashion icons — women who would often “have a very fabulous dress on but maybe their hair is messy, and there’s not a lot of makeup and there’s no jewelry, and they just kind of like, threw it on and went out.” This effortless approach to glamor Rae emulates celebrates individuality and authenticity, rejecting the notion that perfection is a polished, unattainable aspiration.
Pop Stardom and the Female Gaze
With creative consultants Lexee Smith and Patrik Sandberg, creative direction from Interview Magazine’s Mel Ottenberg, direction by Sean Price Williams, and choreography by Danielle Polanco, it’s clear that the goal was to communicate a message about autonomy and liberation rather than simply to sell a record. In the video, she begins at a masquerade and eventually finds herself near-nude in the streets of Paris, taking us to a familiar place of feminine escape. It encapsulates the experience of newfound freedom and lust, one that she channels as an exclusively female desire, distinct from what is traditionally expected of women.
Femininity, as seen through Rae, can be attractive because of how weird, experimental, and sensual it is – and this attraction, maybe for the first time, isn’t alone reliant upon solely being desired by men.
Pop Stardom and the Female Gaze
Unlike Rae, Sabrina Carpenter is undeniably a traditional pop star. Her axis mundi is her musicianship and clever manipulation of semantics and phonetics. However, as with every pop star — especially female — comes a curated image, continuous reinvention, and distinct eras. While she leans into a dainty, feminine, Playboy-esque energy (her tour is inspired by Playboy After Dark), her lyrics exude dominance, reversing traditional heterosexual male-female relationship dynamics.
Throughout her album Short n Sweet, Carpenter remains confident and in control. Whether she’s calling her male subject names (“you’re so dumb and poetic”), unapologetically subverting exploitation (“I showed my friends and we high-fived, sorry if you feel objectified”), or reasserting assumptions (“I can’t relate to desperation”), she wields a sense of wit and assertiveness. She demands that her guy respect her, and if he doesn’t, she’s ready to move on.
Stylist Jared Ellner has played a pivotal role in crafting her image, styling her entire tour wardrobe. Highlights include a two-piece by Ludovic de Saint Sernin, a black lace catsuit by Patou, and a custom look by Victoria’s Secret. Flirty, sparkly, and sexy ensembles complement her curly blonde locks as she steps on stage each night, fulfilling this established sense of femininity. However, Carpenter subverts expectations, belting out crass profanities with her naturally low voice. The audience adores it — the environment she’s creating on this tour embraces an intersectionality of tradition and nuance through masculine and feminine archetypes, as bell hooks might appreciate.
“But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” This quiet, reflective awe mirrors the brilliance of these narratives, where chaos yields to calm and the mundane transforms into something extraordinary. Each of these artists crafts their visions with a serene mastery that feels almost divine, channeling a form of higher inspiration, just as Mary embraces her role with quiet courage.
The role of women emerges as a unifying, beautifully tragic phenomenon. The art created in celebration of this communal refuge is nothing short of extraordinary.
As Mary ponders in silence at the heart of the storm, we find ourselves in her shoes – overwhelmed by emotion, fearful of the future, and grateful for the present. Perhaps this is its own kind of modern annunciation.
Edited by Hana Razvi, Olivia Daly, Sophia Buckholtz, Greta Felton & Ellie DePerry
