Acceptance as Rebellion
Buckle up, babes. I’ve got a lot to say about this topic. And when I say a lot, I mean a whole juicy lot. xx
Some people have never stopped to ask themselves:
“Why do I think this? Who taught me this? Does this belief even belong to me?”
And that my Saloki Origin friends is where acceptance becomes radical. Acceptance requires pause. It requires self-awareness. It requires choosing curiosity over comfort.
It’s far easier socially and psychologically to judge the woman wearing the “wrong” thing than to interrogate the centuries of conditioning that shaped that reaction in the first place.
And that’s why the question “Why does it bother people?” is such an exceptional question. Because the honest answer is: it shouldn’t. When it does, the problem isn’t her. It’s the conditioning.
Why We Judge: Inherited Scripts
I recently found myself in a conversation with friends that sparked all kinds of reflections. It started with noticing a woman’s outfit the age, the style, the sense of “acceptable” and naturally led to a wider discussion: women wearing what they want, tradition, decorum, control, identity, and societal expectation. It was interesting how quickly a casual comment can reveal the deeper scripts we’ve absorbed without noticing. Opinions we’ve never questioned because they were always there, handed to us as “normal.”
A Moment Of Revelation
I’m not here to criticise anyone who holds these views. Opinions don’t appear out of nowhere; they’re shaped by upbringing, culture, tradition, fear, protection, and respectability. And yes, some will argue that rules around clothing exist for professionalism, safety, or cultural respect. But even well-meaning “rules” often operate unevenly, disproportionately targeting women, limiting freedom, and silently enforcing gendered expectations.
It’s natural to notice or even have thoughts about someone else’s clothing we all carry ideas about style and propriety. The key is noticing those thoughts, understanding where they come from, and choosing curiosity over judgment.
So I ask: is the opinion valid, or is it inherited? Do we actually believe what we say, or have we never stopped to ask ourselves where the opinions or “rules” came from?
Rules, Opinions, and Who They Really Serve
Because when you strip it back historically, socially, psychologically, women’s clothing has never been just clothing. It has always been a silent battleground of expectation. A place where society decides what is “appropriate,” “tasteful,” “respectable,” “age-appropriate,” “motherly,” “feminine,” “professional,” or “sexy-but-not-too-sexy.” And yet, at the same time, what we wear has always been one of the few things truly ours. One of the first things girls learn to choose for themselves. One of the earliest forms of rebellion, play, imagination, and identity.
Threads of Control: A History of Policing Women
Historically, this is clear. In late-sixteenth-century Genoa, sumptuary laws dictated exactly what fabrics, colours, and embellishments women were allowed to wear, right down to the shade of silk or the detail on a sleeve, and violations were recorded, fined, even publicly shamed (Zampino, The Historical Journal, 2023). Victorian corsets restricted movement and symbolized virtue, discipline, and control, shaping not just bodies but behaviour (Wolosin, 2019). In the 20th century, school and workplace dress codes consistently targeted female bodies: bans on miniskirts, strict uniform policies, and “modesty” rules were often justified as decorum, yet they disproportionately policed women’s self-expression.
Today’s Invisible Dress Codes
And the present day is no different. Social media, workplace commentary, and even casual conversation continue to regulate women’s appearance. Research confirms that women face significantly more appearance-based judgement than men (Fredrickson & Roberts, 1997). Psychology offers insight, too: enclothed cognition shows clothing influences confidence, presence, and decision-making (Adam & Galinsky, 2012). A self-chosen outfit doesn’t just feel good it literally shapes how you carry yourself, how you are perceived, and how empowered you feel.
But here’s the REAL question: why does anyone think they get to dictate or comment on how another person dresses? People love to hide behind the line “I’m just sharing my opinion,” but honestly, that’s a checked-out statement a lazy shield that avoids the truth.
CLOTHING TRIGGERS PEOPLE
Not because of the fabric, but because of what it exposes in them: their own insecurities, suppressed desire, and fear of being too much or not enough. When someone critiques what you wear, it’s rarely about your outfit it’s a projection of something they haven’t confronted in themselves. And if they’re allowed an opinion, then so are you. Your clothing is your opinion, your declaration, your autonomy. Their discomfort doesn’t outweigh your self-expression.
Dressing for No One But You
Sometimes we dress for others a partner, attention, safety, work, belonging. That doesn’t make us weak. It makes us human. The real shift happens when we begin dressing for ourselves: for how fabric feels against skin, for the colours our body reaches for, for the quiet confidence of looking like ourselves, for pleasure, comfort, and play over rules. Every woman knows intuitively how transformative this is.
When a woman dresses for herself, she becomes harder to manage, less predictable, more powerful. That energy unsettles people because it cannot be contained. And perhaps that’s why conversations like the one I had with my friends hit so deep. They tap into something ancient. Something inherited. Something we’ve been pushing against for hundreds of years: the idea that the female body and everything we put on it is public property to be debated, judged, classified, or corrected.
The Power of Your Own Skin
Zoom out far past personal conversations, past Instagram debates, past whatever your uncle thinks women “should” wear, and you realise this tension isn’t new. It’s historical. It’s cultural. It’s engineered. For centuries, women’s clothing has been the quiet battleground where society tried to define what a woman should be. A woman in a yellow silk jacket wasn’t “breaking a dress code.” She was threatening social order.
And yet here we are, still choosing colour, silhouette, softness, sensuality, movement, and meaning for ourselves. That’s the rebellion. That’s the continuity. That’s the power.
Your Clothes, Your Choice
So let’s talk honestly. The next time someone friend, stranger, partner, parent, society questions what a woman wears, ask the real question underneath it: is this about her, or about your own conditioning? What do you really feel? Where did that belief come from? Is it still yours, or just inherited?
Because the moment you start dressing for no one but yourself, you stop living through someone else’s script. You start living through your own skin, your own taste, your own freedom. Clothing has always been more than fabric. More than trend. More than a “good” or “bad” choice. It’s a reflection of autonomy. A reclamation. A quiet declaration: I decide who I am.
And that is why what women wear still matters. Not because people have opinions, but because women deserve to be the ones who choose.
Next time you my girlfriend feel like you are questioning what you want to wear or how you want to show up also ask, is this my thoughts or someone’s else’s? Take back your own autonomy of what life looks like for you be it fashion or other life factors.
Sign up to our newsletter and join our community of women rewriting the rules. Be the first to see bold styles that celebrate you not society’s expectations and get notified on new blogs to follow!
Love Sarah at Saloki Origin xxx
