Making the Case for Meaningful Courtroom Attire
The trial of Elizabeth Holmes, founder of the now defunct Theranos, reinforces the argument for meaningful courtroom attire. In fact, two opinions about Holmes' personal style light the way. First, Robin Givhan, of The Washington Post, wrote a sharp critique of Holmes' trial style makeover. Then, Vanessa Friedman, fashion director at The New York Times, wrote about Holmes' style reinvention. People have opined that this attention is sexist, that men do not receive the same public scrutiny. I beg to differ; everyone is subject to scrutiny.
When people make obvious shifts in their visual presence, onlookers can't help but take note. And this is what Elizabeth Holmes did. She went from a compulsive habit of head-to-toe black, if not to mock Steve Jobs, then to mimic his aesthetic. This approach is like Secret antiperspirant: strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.
In keeping with the notion of "never let them see you sweat," her trial wardrobe has an odor of its own. It leaves the onlooker with a different impression, like an invasion of the wardrobe snatchers. In this post, we examine how she went from looking serious and distinctive to looking lost and nondescript, even evasive.
Questions and Doubts
Does the visual narrative of moving from appearing driven to demure help or hurt her case? Upon the jury's decision, did the presiding judge ask the 'real' Elizabeth Holmes to please stand up? The questions might be pithy, but to make the point: what was her message?
Known for her deep voiced and Steve Jobs-esque ensembles, at trial she took on the look of an executive assistant. To have morphed from confident CEO to floundering founder is very telling. It's safe to assume that the jury had not seen the sight of the former version of Elizabeth Holmes. But, did the courtroom version portray the strength of a victor or the weakness of a loser? Put yourself in Holmes' place and in her clothes. Which look would help you embody your own strength and power so that you prove it in a courtroom?
In studying this case, I contend that the missteps made support the argument for meaningful courtroom attire as a storytelling strategy.
The Case as I See It
Having followed the case with interest for years, I have opinions about it. The lawsuit hinged around how she allegedly duped investors. The jury found her guilty of several counts related to investors. Even more egregious is that the company misled people about their medical conditions. Yet, here the jury did not find her culpable. Holmes wouldn't be the first Silicon Valley founder to sell a vision to investors. So, if a business' premise fails, yet continues to raise more funds, when does craving success turn criminal?
For her part, Holmes and her legal team adopted the narrative that she's the victim. They claimed that everyone from her employees to her former boyfriend is responsible. Even the board. My lingering question remains this: did the head of a medical device company know whether the device actually worked?
As the defendant, Holmes and her legal team could have chosen to tell whatever story they want to tell. They opted to play the blame game and play the victim card. But, should this have absolved her of ultimate responsibility as company founder and CEO?
The Story She Told and the Story She Wore
Trial followers have made much of Holmes' storytelling from an aesthetic perspective. This is where the argument for meaningful courtroom attire becomes very clear. How she showed up to court during the trial is important because her presence and image affected her reputation as she founded and built the company.
To have changed her look has to make people look at her with deeper scrutiny. Particularly in this case because Holmes' look is a downgrade and not an upgrade. This demonstrates a fall from grace and is a visual mea culpa, from my perspective. She is the same person beneath any of the clothes, and I contend that she wore the ensembles ascribed to someone who knew her fate.
The sexual assault charges, though vehemently denied, are serious claims. Nondescript suits worn with soft details like a single pearl necklace on a fine gold chain, or ruffles on a cream silk blouse, make her look weak. And it is a counterpoint to her strong, deep, vocal tone, which is also a source of controversy. Her weakened appearance made her look like running a company was a struggle. The contrast between deep vocal resonance and whispery wardrobe created cognitive dissonance.
Telling the Right Story and Using Meaningful Attire
For Holmes to get the jury to agree with her she had to send the right message through words, vocal tone, and physical appearance. Likely, they couldn't subconsciously avoid how she sounded when she spoke. Moreover, they considered how she looked. Although the jury can and did request the record for exact testimony, those are words on paper. No sound or visual replay. Still, left in their minds is the vocal resonance and the visual piece. The mind has an easier time remembering what the eyes once saw.
As a powerful company founder, a stronger narrative would have been that she appeared strong in court appearances. Had she stayed with her general aesthetic, she'd have demonstrated healing from her alleged abuse by looking unchanged. She could have conveyed that she is an abuse survivor through her trademark look. This is a much more likely scenario that at least one person on the jury could accept. Instead, she looked defeated rather than defiant.
A stronger story could have been that she was aloof and removed from the details as CEO. She had a team in place to manage those matters. That's how every other tech startup works as well. She alleged as much by trying to pin responsibility on others. That narrative would have buffered herself from everyone else. In fact, the black-clad ensembles she wore during her tenure made her appear reserved, detached, and remote.
Trials are still about facts and the truth. In the end, I'm not so sure that we know the real Elizabeth Holmes. This is why I make the argument that meaningful courtroom attire would have helped her tell us who she is. Instead, we have our memories of how she looked and sounded as the jury found her guilty of fraud.
