Fashionable Female Villains Are For Life, Not Just For Halloween

When I was a kid, my favourite cartoon characters were (in no particular order) Maleficent, Ursula, and Cinderella’s evil stepmother. Looking back, the reasons are clear to me now: undefined by any man, they wore clothes that were both stylish and dominant; they had the best pets (who can forget Maleficent’s crow?); and they were as assertive as they were powerful. And importantly, they were unaided – or perhaps, unhindered – by men. The fact that they were evil was by the by. Could I not be chic and assertive? Maybe I’d grow up to use my dominance and snazzy headgear for good? I wasn’t going to be defined by a man, either, but I’d like to wear nice trousers and maybe a sculptural coat.

Throughout the decades, female baddies – let’s avoid a tempting portmanteau – have so often been the best dressed characters in the show. Sharp, tailored suits, cigarette holders, heels, singledom. It’s a trope played out again and again in film and TV. Just think of Kill Bill’s O-Ren Ishii, who manages to keep her white kimono pristine even after a sword fight; or her righthand woman Sofie Fatale, wrapped in a severe black shift dress. Who hasn’t copied Nancy Downs from The Craft's monochrome baby-doll cardigan and studded choker look, topped off with a maniacal layer or six of plum lipstick? And this Halloween will surely see a million homages to the cold-blooded Killing Eve assassin Villanelle, with her paradoxically whimsical fashion tastes.

Of course, the other thing every one of these characters has in common – cartoon ones included – is that their inception, direction and narrative was formulated under the male gaze. And very often, these women are seen as 'man haters'. (O-Ren Ishii decapitated the Yakuza boss aged 11 before becoming a crack female assassin and later, at the age of 20, the head of the Yakuza herself.) They often play with men’s emotions – by emasculating them, usually – and are simultaneously followed around by undertones of lesbianism.

In the opening scenes of Basic Instinct, we meet Catherine Tramell’s girlfriend, Roxy. Catherine (Sharon Stone) is under investigation for the murder of former rockstar Boz, but Roxy (herself a former murderer) provides an alibi. Catherine then starts a vicious affair with Nick (Michael Douglas), the determinedly pathetic ex-alcoholic cop who is investigating her. When Roxy dies (the gay narrative is never without grief or struggle, after all), Catherine grieves her death and tells Nick about another lesbian lover. All while wearing an array of neutrals, that off-white mini dress, and simple cashmere sweaters. Her wardrobe screams rich, elegant and naturally stylish. While the fashion police had no issue with the film, gay activists at the time of its release criticised its depiction of bisexual women as murderous, narcissistic and psychopathic – personality types, we can all agree, that have nothing to do with who you’re doing the dirty with.

What these characterisations make clear is that being both stylish and sexually confident are seen as inherently 'bad' things for women to be. By portraying women like this, the audience are to infer that being fabulous and free equates with being troublesome and dangerous. In Killing Eve, the BBC’s hit assassin-spy drama, Eve (Sandra Oh) is a slightly dappy MI5 officer who becomes obsessed with the mysterious assassin Villanelle; and Villanelle (Jodie Comer), a highly skilled and psychopathic killer, becomes obsessed with Eve in return. Eve often wears baggy trousers, loose and unstructured coats. She loses her bag. She doesn’t have her shit together. Villanelle, by contrast, has a fancy flat in Paris and a killer wardrobe that veers from pretty brocade tailoring to pussy bow blouses and that voluminous Molly Goddard dress.

While the show depicts every kind of queer trope going, it also shows that there’s room for an undefined lust that is unpredictable but interesting. Villanelle sleeps with men and women (killing off at least one boyfriend), but it’s Eve with whom she becomes infatuated in a deeper way. It's the kind of desire where you need to know every part of someone’s body and face because you are fascinated by them (when Villanelle buys Eve an expensive designer dress, it fits eerily well, as if it were precisely tailored for her body). Importantly, while she is obsessing over Eve, and challenging the binary queer/straight storyline, Villanelle is also challenging the queer/straight wardrobe code, flouncing around in traditionally feminine fashions while plotting her daring, cold-hearted kills.

Growing up, and identifying with these empowered, ballsy, stylish and sexual women characters over their stereotyped heterosexual counterparts, I always thought that it was kind of cool. The female villains were always the best characters – interesting, and with a depth that is sadly rare in scripts for women – and men feared them because they were powerless to them. Is that such a bad thing, when the world is dominated by powerful men, and so many women and LGBTQ people live in fear? But at the same time, did I have to emasculate men to get anywhere in life? Could I slob about in a tracksuit and still take over the world? Could I just be a really nice person who dresses well, and who I choose to sleep with is by the by?

Killing Eve should mark a new beginning for complex women on screen. A thrilling and uncertain future, where a female character’s style and sexuality are no longer clues to her moral fibre, and every look and every gaze can be deceiving.