LISA HILTON argues that wearing overalls is a bold statement of sexual power

Breastplates have long been worn as a sign of female empowerment. From Queen Elizabeth I, who opted for silver for her legendary speech about having “the heart and stomach of a king,” to Wonder Woman in blue and gold, no warrior queen is complete without one.

But I suspect it’s the sensual connotations, rather than the historical ones, that have helped propel dungarees on today’s red carpet.

After all, the seductive contradiction—fragile flesh encased in a cold, hard shell—gives him the power to shock, even now.

Take singer Ellie Goulding’s figure-hugging black dungarees at the Brit Awards on Saturday night, for example.

Cameron Hancock’s leather-like design, with an exaggerated bust outline and belly button, caused her co-anchor Tom Grennan to nervously comment, “I love what you’re doing, are your breasts real?” He later apologized for the comment, which sparked an online furore.

Another star who wore dungarees to make a statement this weekend was singer Rihanna. Performing at the Super Bowl, her red-cut dungarees from Loewe revealed that she is pregnant with her second child.

Other well-known figures who favor a breastplate include actress Olivia Wilde and reality star Kim Kardashian. But perhaps most memorable was the sculpted pink Tom Ford dungarees worn by Spider-Man star Zendaya to the Critics Choice Awards in 2020.

They were all bold but playful riffs on a garment that has walked the line between mockery and transgression for millennia.

Originally a form of functional body armor, they have always had a surprisingly erotic undertone, going a step beyond corsets by creating a shape that exposes the figure but makes it powerfully untouchable.

It was the ancient Greeks who ‘sexed’ the breastplate by turning a practical shield into an idealized version of the originally male human body.

Depictions of Amazons, a tribe of warrior women, in Greek mythology feature similar chest coverings. The Greeks were terrified and excited in equal measure by these women, who appropriated not only male attire but also male privilege.

It’s no wonder designers from Yves Saint Laurent to Alexander McQueen to Schiaparelli have continued to explore the allure of this daring and slightly dangerous silhouette.

Although the inflexibility of many breastplates (the Ford version is cast in inflexible lacquered chrome acrylic) may not provide comfort, there is another benefit. Like our military ancestors, the wearer has no choice but to adopt a proper upright posture.

As any woman who has ever worn a structured top or dress will know, standing imposingly tall also makes you feel unusually confident.

We hear a lot about how clothing can be empowering, but something that makes you stand out and feel more authoritative gives it an indefinable psychological polish, as designers know.

As women began to claim political and economic equality in the 20th century, the fashion elite returned again and again to the seductive ambiguity of breastplates.

Yves Saint Laurent hired sculptor Claude Lalanne to cast supermodel Veruschka’s breasts and torso into dresses for his 1969 couture collection.

In the 1980s, Issey Miyake designed steel blue peplum dungarees for singer Grace Jones. In the 1990s, Thierry Mugler experimented with the contrast of hard synthetic armor against female flesh.

You could imagine that modern women would not accept a garment that fetishizes their bodies. However, the designs of Sinead O’Dwyer, whose fiberglass garments mold to a wide range of women’s bodies, show that power and strength don’t have to fit a particular mold.

I’ll leave dungarees in their purest form for the celebrities, but there’s a lot to be said for structured clothing that brings out our inner Amazon. Whether you prefer a bustier or a fitted jacket, a little touch of armor can be the perfect social weapon.

Image Research: Claire Cisotti