How we dress is a direct reflection of who we are personally, socially, and historically.

It’s the historical part of that equation that will be the subject of Virginia Commonwealth University’s annual Black History Month Lecture, “Reading a Dress: Fashioning Black Women’s Histories” with Elizabeth Way, the curator of costume and accessories at the Museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology. There she curated “Africa’s Fashion Diaspora” and edited the book “Black Designers in American Fashion.”

It might not be immediately obvious what fashion can tell us about the history of Black American women when so many 19th and early-20th-century Black women have been ignored, misrepresented or erased in official documents, history books and museums. Way’s talk looks at examples of Black women’s fashion objects and how they can open a portal into that underexplored facet of American history.

Fashion pieces – dresses, suits, shoes, hats – invoke the people who might have worn them, giving viewers an approachable idea of the object or image, even if it’s removed from our time and experiences. We can relate because as humans, we also wear clothes and inherently understand that they say something about us. That makes fashion a compelling way into historical narratives. “As a global industry, fashion touches countless topics, from art and design to economics and trade and technological development,” Way says. “Because fashion has important things to say from both a broad perspective and an individual one, it serves as a flexible, reliable, and interesting storytelling device.”

The way we choose to dress expresses our individual personalities, as well as our circumstances, cultural and community affiliations, and values. When Way sees an image of a 19th century Black woman, she can take what she knows about the historic context and fashion culture of that time and start to analyze the woman’s choices. “Getting dressed for a photograph – a special occasion for which she would have dressed intentionally – communicates the way she wanted to be perceived,” explains Way. “Did she dress to show that she was up to date on the latest Parisian fashion? To show off her consumerism through a watch or parasol? To highlight her modesty and thriftiness through plain clothes? These give us clues to what she thought was important.”

All of this fascinates Way, who studied fashion design and history as an undergraduate with hopes of becoming a designer, but found her talent was in pattern cutting. Working in the fashion industry was not the path she wanted, so she looked for ways to combine her interests, working in theater costuming before pursuing her master’s degree in fashion studies and becoming a curator. “My background in design, sewing, pattern cutting, and working with fabrics led me to a material culture focus in my academic and curatorial work,” she notes.

She sees the existing material culture as the key to unlocking the stories of these long ago Black women. The dresses they wore and the photographs that show their styling practices provide evidence, not just that they existed, but also a peek into their perspectives, opinions and the ways they positioned themselves in their Black communities and the wider American culture. “Styling practices refer to the way clothes are worn and accessorized” Way says. “The addition of a brooch, the angle of a hat, or the position of a fan can change the way we perceive an ensemble.”

Within their own communities, Black women used fashion to communicate their taste and status. A middle-aged church woman invested in respectability politics would have dressed differently from a young lady who was more interested in appearing modern in the latest styles. “On a national level, Black American women lived with a lot of negative stereotypes that were perpetuated to excuse the discrimination, abuse, and violence practiced on them,” Way says. “Fashion was a tool to show that they were ladylike and deserving of respect, and it helped them proclaim their humanity against these oppressive forces.”

While the politics of appearance have always been critical for Black Americans, this was even more pronounced during the Civil Rights Movement, despite dress styles not being uniform. “Followers of Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference prioritized Sunday best-style dressing as a sign of their respectability, which meant dresses, skirts and blouses with high heels and stockings, as well as perfectly styled, and straightened, hair and makeup,” says Way. “Meanwhile, the young organizers of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee embraced workwear, like denim overalls and more relaxed styles, to relate to rural Black agricultural workers.”

Even a Black woman’s jewelry and accessories contributed to the image they were trying to portray. Jewelry and accessories showed not only fashionability, but also buying power and an understanding of the wider fashion culture. “A fan or hat, for instance could be in the latest style, but how it was carried or worn could illustrate a Black woman’s knowledge of the accepted etiquette of the time, showing her as a lady,” says Way. “Its presence also signaled that she could afford clothing beyond the strictly necessary.”

According to American photographer David LaChapelle, the adornment of the body is a human need, making fashion a global industry that shows us the arts culture, the technology, and the social mores of a period and place.

As for how much history can be gleaned from fashion, Way is adamant. “A lot!”

VCU Libraries’ 2026 Black History Month Lecture: “Reading a Dress: Fashioning Black Women’s Histories” with Dr. Elizabeth Way will be held on Thursday, Feb. 5 at 7 p.m. at James Branch Cabell Library Lecture Hall, 901 Park Ave. Registration