Clothes makes the (wo)man

So there's a (very) minor Internet flap about the clothes Ellen Page wore in Inception. Did you find them too "asexual" and "boyish"? A much bigger problem is the fact that Page's Inception character is merely a piece of script machinery, Nolan's not-too-subtle way of drawing exposition out of Leonardo DiCaprio's Cobb. Page's look was accurate enough for a film that's not concerned with how its characters dress (the wardrobe changes with every new dream locale), but Page and Marion Cotillard are two opposite poles with nothing in between. Page's Ariadne is a might-as-well-have-been-a-boy sidekick while Cotillard's Mal (as we see her) starts and finishes as an emotionally ravenous soul-sucker, and that's it for the ladies in Inception.

I thought we'd moved on from the days where women had to wear dresses, and men had to wear suits and hats. Perhaps if Page's wardrobe was straight out a men's store -- with a bowler hat, short hair, and head-to-toe masculine clothing -- there would be some basis to link the look to little boys. But as it stands, not one of these outfits are traditionally masculine. They're simply comfortable, slightly ill-fitting, and not perfectly coiffed -- just like many women her age and older who go by their own sense of fashion. I'd love to see any male star get away with wearing Page's wardrobe -- low-heeled shoes, pops of color under blouses, and tank tops over long-sleeved shirts.

Are we all just masochists secretly wanting to punish ourselves? Just think of all the signifiers Hollywood uses to code an actor as ugly or schlumpy. They're given glasses, ponytails, baggy clothing, earth tones, and flat shoes -- all things that we don't negatively categorize in real life. Our reality is what Hollywood considers ugly these days, and we follow along as masochistic moviegoers, eager to deride our very way of life.