Fashion has always been used as a tool to challenge the status quo, and some of the most iconic trends we love today came from feminist movements. Halter tops and tube tops, for example, weren’t just about looking good: they were a statement of freedom, a rejection of old rules, and a way for women to reclaim control.

Feminism and the sexual revolution were separate but closely linked movements that came together in the 1970s, amplifying each other’s push for change.

Building on the momentum of the 60s, feminism expanded its fight for equality beyond voting to include reproductive rights, equal pay, and bodily autonomy. At the same time, the sexual revolution was empowering women, challenging traditional beliefs around sex and relationships, especially with the widespread availability of birth control.

Second-wave feminism in the 1970s challenged patriarchal norms: women were fighting for reproductive rights and to be better appreciated in their roles when it came to family. For centuries, women had been told that their bodies were objects of male desire and that their appearance should be controlled and regulated. The idea that women’s clothing should hide the shape of their bodies, especially their shoulders and breasts, was a powerful symbol of this oppression. The halter top emerged as a symbol of newfound autonomy and freedom. Its design, which showed off the shoulders, upper back, and didn't require a bra, resonated with the desire to reject traditional standards of modesty and muted colors. Most importantly, it symbolized their right to define their own bodies and choices.

The tube top was another popular bra-less design of this era. Iranian fashion designer Eli Tahari came upon a bunch of discarded tops without sleeves and instantly saw the potential in design for liberated women.

Pop culture in the 70s helped make halter and tube tops a mainstream statement.

Cher made risqué looks, like halter tops, part of her signature. Disco culture also played a huge role, with nightlife fashion mirroring the era’s sense of freedom, embracing glamour and sex appeal. But it wasn’t just celebrities: halter and tube tops became closet staples, worn by every day women who embraced the era’s sense of freedom.

Not everyone saw halter tops and tube tops as symbols of empowerment.

More conservative voices saw revealing clothing as a sign of declining morals, arguing that modesty was tied to respectability. Even within feminism, there was debate: some believed ditching bras and showing skin was liberation, while others saw it as objectification. This tension still plays out today: being modest vs. owning your sexuality. Are women reclaiming their bodies, or are they still navigating expectations shaped by the male gaze? The 1970s put women’s bodies at the center of cultural debate; a conversation that remains just as relevant to this day.

I often find myself questioning my own fashion choices. The answer is always a contradiction.

On one hand, I dress for myself and other women. Women appreciate fashion and style and I wear clothing that makes me feel good in my body. Sometimes that’s a more revealing look, like a mini skirt and cleavage-bearing vest, and sometimes it’s parachute pants and a hoodie. But I wonder how much of my younger self and society influenced the first. I remember dressing to come off as appealing in my teens and early twenties. Now, as I approach 33, I still find myself wanting to wear revealing looks because I like them and how they shape my body, but I don’t always enjoy the attention it brings. It’s a nuanced experience: wanting to feel empowered by my own choices, but still confronting the way those choices are read by the world around me.