The necktie is back in style for women, and it means business no matter who wears it | Canada Voices

In January of 1990, Julia Roberts, then a newcomer, attended the Golden Globes as a nominee for her supporting role in Steel Magnolias. She would win the award, but in the days following, lose the celebrity fashion critic vote, landing on numerous worst dressed lists. Roberts had chosen to wear a men’s Armani suit complete with shirt and tie that she purchased and had tailored at the brand’s Rodeo Drive boutique.

Despite the naysayers, it’s a choice that Roberts stands by: she told Vogue recently, “I just thought I looked fabulous, and I still have that suit.”

The suit and tie that made Roberts infamous in 1990, a few months before her star rose thanks to Pretty Woman, looks a lot different in hindsight. So much so that 25 years later, rising star Ayo Edebiri wore a Loewe men’s suit and tie (or rather “tie”; it was a golden feathered necklace crafted to look like one) to the Golden Globes as an homage to Roberts.

But unlike Roberts in 1990, a woman having an affection for ties now doesn’t make you an outlier. The band Boygenius wore matching white suits and ties to the Grammy’s and Oprah Winfrey wore a sparkly tie for her appearance on the Oscars stage; Ariana Grande wore a tie and boxy suit to promote Wicked and the titular Emily of Emily in Paris frequently dons colourful versions on screen; at this month’s Met Gala, stars such as Zendaya, Mindy Kaling and Aimee Lou Woods all interpreted the “tailoring” theme with a tie; and Olivia Wilde, Billie Eilish, Jenna Lyons, Kelly Rowland, Janelle Monae, Mikey Madison, Brooke Shields and Jenna Ortega – they’re all tie fans.

Ties have also been showing up on the runway (in women’s collections, to be clear). Yves Saint Laurent, the brand that bestowed the world with the iconic “Le Smoking” suit in the 1970s returned to form this year with structured suiting offset by sleek neckties. At Vivienne Westwood, they were comically long, while at Louis Vuitton they were jauntily slung around the model’s necks. British designer Rory William Docherty has centred the tie, and “men’s” garments in his collections for years, always alongside more conventionally “feminine” components.

“They play off each other and offer a counterpoint and a balance,” says Docherty.

That counterpoint is what first drew women to what we recognize as the modern necktie way back in the 1890s. “There was a widespread adoption of elements of menswear and men’s accessories by some middle-class women who were beginning to enter the paid workforce in greater numbers,” says Ilya Parkins, a professor of gender, women and sexuality studies at the University of British Columbia. Elements like two-piece (skirted) suits, the pocket watch, the collared shirt, the boater hat and, most notably (and strikingly) ties.

“From the beginning, then, ties were being used as a symbol of professional power when they were adopted by women, used to signify the entering of spaces that had previously been reserved for men,” says Parkins.

The tie became a hallmark of this so-called “New Woman,” and, says author and fashion historian Jessica Glasscock, a likely indicator of her political leanings. “The more manly the elements, the more likely that the woman in question was an advocate for suffrage at the very least,” says Glasscock. “Four-in-hand tie with a boater hat, a minimalist white button-down, and a formidable golf swing? You could tell by her manly necktie that you might have some kind of feminist on your hands.”

Amelia Earhart challenged stereotypes about who belonged in a cockpit and favoured a shirt and tie with her flight jacket. Katharine Hepburn and Marlene Dietrich, actresses known for their rebellious spirits, were tie fans too, and Diane Keaton has worn them on screen (Annie Hall) and off; Grace Jones and Madonna, performers famous for flouting convention also happen to love a tie.

Glasscock points to Twiggy, whose tie-wearing in the 1960s was subversively androgynous. “It rejected the idea of being objectified, which was a radical choice for a fashion model at the time,” she adds. And Toronto-based stylist Juliana Schiavinatto’s favourite tie-wearer was Princess Diana, who gave them a preppy ‘80s spin: “She helped bring the tie look to a mass audience in an everyday way that felt accessible.”

How you wear said tie is personal: casually loose for a rakish appeal or sharply styled for a buttoned-up formality. It’s important, says Schiavinatto, to consider proportion – how does the tie’s shape work with your own proportions – and what you want the style to communicate. “The thicker, more symmetrical the knot, the more serious and traditional, and simpler, less perfect knots can feel more modern and personality-driven,” suggests Schiavinatto.

What a tie tends to project, no matter what the shape, is a sense of power: ties mean business. Popular comedian Hannah Berner started wearing ties for her stand-up shows and appearances on The Daily Show because, she joked (or perhaps, half-joked), they helped her command respect, or rather, mansplain. “I’m wearing a tie, so I know what I’m talking about,” Berner says in an Instagram video.

Pairing a tie with feminine elements, as Berner and other women tend to do, adds a wink-wink knowingness. “This isn’t a full adoption of a masculine standard, but a claiming of the power associated with masculinity while not rejecting the feminine,” says Parkins.

But what does it mean for women to be embracing ties in 2025, at a time when bodily autonomy is for many of them more at risk than ever? Can wearing a tie be a sartorial refusal? An act of protest? “Any trespass onto the natural domain of menswear is a puncturing of the naturalness of men’s power,” says Glasscock.

Says Docherty: “If my ties are taken up as a symbol of equality, then I hope that in some small way helps to shift the needle in the right direction.”