Why is Melero wearing a tie?
For months now, a certain aesthetic trend has been steadily growing among female television presenters. As ties have disappeared from the wardrobes of male news anchors, more and more female presenters are appearing on screen wearing items traditionally associated with men's clothing. Helena Garcia Melero, for example, has been seen on the program... Everything is moving From TV3, he wears wide-legged pleated trousers, a men's shirt, a tailored waistcoat, and a tie. This look is also common for Silvia Intxaurrondo in The time of La 1Alba Lago in News FourHenar Álvarez in In heaven with her Núria Roca from RTVE in The Rock or Raquel Sans, among many others.
Interestingly, this trend It coincides with the death of Diane KeatonA key figure in the history of contemporary fashion. Her image in Annie Hall (1978) – baggy trousers and shirts that looked like they'd been taken from a man's wardrobe, combined with a vest and tie – opened a crack that is once again visible on our screens today. But while Keaton made this gesture within the framework of feminist struggles, questioning gender divisions, what motivates female presenters now?
In the past, wearing men's clothing was a major political transgression, often life-threatening. Joan of Arc, in the 15th century, adopted it to enter the military sphere: it provided her with ease of movement, security with her armor, and the authority to command soldiers, as well as protection from sexual assault thanks to the undergarments attached to her gi, which prevented her from being quickly undressed. But cross-dressing without a legitimate reason was a sin according to Deuteronomy 22:5. Joan paid dearly for transgressing gender boundaries: the court did not recognize her military achievements as justification, and she was burned at the stake on May 30, 1431.
For women, wearing men's clothing has never been merely aesthetic, but a structural transgression that has allowed them access to forbidden spaces—armies, universities—protecting themselves, achieving power, and gaining freedom and autonomy. Margaret Ann Bulkley, under a male identity at the end of the 18th century, was able to study medicine and practice throughout her life. The novelist George Sand was able to access intellectual circles closed to women, with scandal and police surveillance as the price. Dorothy Lawrence, dressed as a man to cover the front lines of the First World War as a journalist, was silenced and committed to an asylum. These were women who challenged the system not with words, but with their own bodies.
It's curious that this masculinization of female presenters is more visible in media formats such as political news, debates, and serious interviews. While today, in our society, cross-dressing no longer carries the same risks as before, it still has political significance: it allows women to access traditionally male spaces and be perceived as more professional, authoritative, and legitimate in their roles. This phenomenon also occurs in the political sphere, where women risk being discredited if they feminize their appearance too much.
These styles, while offering an alternative to the feminization that female presenters have often had to adopt as an ornamental complement to male hosts, also demonstrate that we still associate credibility and rigor with masculine aesthetics. Because dressing like a man, even if only on screen, reminds us that what we wear—far from being superfluous—is laden with meaning and participates in power dynamics, and that fashion remains, now as before, a tool for transgression and self-affirmation.
