Dressing for Protest: The Abortion Movement in Buenos Aires

In the midst of a global pandemic, physical protests manifesting in the streets — a vivid experience where outfits and colors can make a point and reflect a movement’s political statement — may feel distant, like something that belongs in the past. As odd as it may be in the currently overwhelming climate of COVID-19, I have been thinking about my past involvement in political movements and my experiences researching some of them. After all, the political movements that will arise from this moment in history will need to build on all that preceded them. 

“Aborto Legal, Seguro y Gratuito” (Legal, Safe, and Free Abortion) was one of the many chants I heard during the three months I spent in Argentina in the summer of 2018 (winter in the Southern hemisphere). Legal, safe, and free abortion was the motivating force and political campaign for the feminist pro-choice movement there; hence, this incantation being heard at a wave of protests after the lower chamber of Congress had introduced a bill to legalize abortion at a federal level. Currently, Argentina’s abortion law allows the procedure only if the woman’s health is at extreme risk of death or it is an unwanted pregnancy from rape. This has meant that women have not been allowed to access this procedure, and many end up attempting dangerous and unregulated procedures that endanger their livelihoods. The movement has strengthened since 2015, when the women’s rights group known as Ni Una Menos (Not One Less) took this issue under the umbrella of its mandate, thus further expanding its visibility in the streets, social media, and the region. Lately, it has seen major success: the new President, Alberto Fernandez, was set to introduce a bill greatly expanding access to legal abortion to the National Congress in early March, 2020.

With this news and the rest of the upheaval in the world, I have been thinking about my time in Buenos Aires, which was defined by this wave of active and energetic protests full of women dressed in green and splashed with glitter head-to-toe in what became a type of uniform of unity for the movement. The protestors were representing the vibrancy of what it means to take ownership of their bodies and voices. I was in Buenos Aires with the International Field Program at The New School, conducting research on how gender mainstreaming (the umbrella term for utilizing a gender-based perspectives in policymaking in order to create social change) [1] approaches abortion legislation in public policy through demands from different feminist and human rights groups ranging from young women activists, congresswomen, public health professionals, academics, and more. I had a wonderful time in Buenos Aires, mostly focusing on participant observation from an anthropological and political perspective, and later conducting structured interviews with activists who approached their work from different angles based on their experience in the movement. 

Part of my time there consisted of immersing myself in some of the demonstrations organized by the movement in different politically key zones throughout the city, ranging from the streets of Congress to the Presidential palace, also known as La Casa Rosada (the Pink House). I had never experienced such lively demonstrations at which everyone was dressed for the protest. Women marched along, playing music in different groups, divided by social organizations or just simply in groups of friends. People sang along while holding badges with phrases such as “Ni Una Menos” (not one less) and “No Más Abortos Clandestinos” (no more clandestine abortions), drawing attention to the illegality of abortion and the drastic consequences of that, such as death due to malpractice and the erasure of women’s decisions over their reproductive systems at the political level. These powerful impressions from these chants, signs, and songs were tied by the visual unity of the activists that represented their voices in a sea of glittery green.

I so admired the way these women showed up to march in unity (represented by the glittery green) fueled by their call to action. Their agency was showcased by their appearance as one big green wave. What did these observations mean in regards to the possibility of collective expression of unity in this movement and beyond? History has been made and remade by all different types of oppressed groups taking up space in the streets to fight against injustice. Many people put their physical bodies on the line in order to amplify their cause, which in this case is to give all female-assigned bodies access to legal, safe, and free abortion. The agency performed in these manifestations is expressed partly through clothing choices, colors that identify the movement, and memorable phrases and chants that make them into a grand collective experience that sends a powerful message. 

There is art in dressing for a protest to present a unified front, purpose, and mission. We can trace the theme back at least to the suffrage movement, when suffragettes wore white (representing peace and freedom), to domestic violence marches where women wear wedding dresses (visualizing the moment a woman becomes bound to an abuser), to this moment in Argentina and many other Latin American countries, where many in these abortion protests dress in green. 

One of the women I interviewed for my project, Candelaria Botto, spoke to me about how she and the women of her organization, Economía Feminista, got together before most demonstrations to get dressed and plan their different green outfits. They engaged in this by wearing scarves, painting their faces, adding stickers and glitter to their bodies, wearing and holding the signature green handkerchief, which is the single item most closely associated with the movement. As they do so, they know that women across Argentina are doing the same to express their support for abortion legislation, adding this piece of cloth to their handbags and backpacks in solidarity. 

The following images showcase groups of women taking collective action to protect themselves and their fellow citizens, with the color green symbolizing their agency, unity, and refusal to go away.

This photo was taken by Candelaria Botto, who mentioned to me that in the winter time, the most important thing is that everyone is dressed for the weather! The handkerchiefs are key, but so are their warm coats. The handkerchief positioned on the neck represents what it’s like to show up as a “militante,” which means militant and/or soldier, a potent position for women to occupy in this struggle. “Militante” is a widely used word in Argentina, often used to describe activists.

In contrast to the winter months, summer protest wear can significantly look different, though comfort is still paramount, as the sneakers in this image demonstrate. One of my observations during my time in Buenos Aires was that music and chants were a significant aspect of demonstrations. Many women from different organizations come to protests with their drums as part of their gear. Young girls are also encouraged to participate, wearing their green handkerchiefs.

Crucial to this campaign has been the inclusion of different age groups. Regardless of age, all activists show up to demonstrations with their green gear, demonstrating solidarity with one another. Note the women to the right of this picture, where one is helping to position a sticker onto the other’s face. This was something that I observed often: women acting in solidarity with one another, helping place stickers and glitter on each other’s faces.

Candelaria B. with members of her organization after getting ready for a demonstration. A lot of glitter, green stickers, and green handkerchiefs around their necks. Most activist groups meet before a demonstration in order to remain together as it could be difficult to find each other during and after the march.

Young women consult about their looks while waiting for a march to begin. A lot of pleasure is taken in dressing in a way that both conveys their opposition to the law and suits their ideas of fun self-expression.

Notes

[1] True, Jacqui. 2003. Gender Mainstreaming. International Feminist Journal of Politics 5(3): 368– 396.