The White House Outfit Pam Bondi Ripped From The '70s (& Not In A Good Way)

The 1970s were nothing if not a spectacle. The utopian unrest of the '60s – its psychedelic optimism, countercultural zeal, and televised upheaval – gave way to a decade of glamorous disillusionment: Watergate, Studio 54, the oil crisis, punk rock, and polyester. Grand narratives frayed; aesthetic maximalism flourished. And whilst Vogue declared at the time "there are no rules in the fashion game now," like all legitimate artistic disciplines, even the most rebellious looks still followed a theory. This is what makes Pam Bondi's attempt to channel the decade — worn to a White House meeting with the president of El Salvador in April 2025 — all the more perplexing.

Decked out in a powder-blue pantsuit with assertively wide lapels and a vaguely tropical printed blouse, she managed to hollow out the era of any of its charm. The fabric had the sheen of a synthetic blend, and the tailoring — boxy and unyielding — lacked both precision and ease. Bondi has no shortage of outfits that missed the mark, but this particular misappropriation of the decade of disco stands out for its muddled execution.

The fashion of the '70s mirrored the mood of this paradoxical era. At once, it revelled in both ease and excess: earth-toned knits by day, metallic lamé by night. Style had divorced itself from convention and embraced visual improvisation. But Bondi's version, though technically referential, felt like a static costume.

Pam Bondi's supposed tribute to the 1970s, worn to a White House meeting no less, seemed to recognize the silhouette of the exuberant decade, but sadly, not its spirit. At a moment when the visual cues of the era are enjoying a sincere revival (after all, the makeup of disco divas and glam queens is back, as are the hairstyles from the '70s and '80s), her version wouldn't even have made it to the roller rink.

Bondi's lapels did most of the talking, which, in fairness, is true to their original function. In the '70s, broad lapels were a pointed reaction to the narrow, postwar cuts of earlier wartime decades, when fabric was rationed. In Bondi's case, the lapels are historically accurate, but they sit heavily on a blazer that lacks the fluidity or flair of its forebears. What should feel bold just feels blunt. Her matching blazer and pants were also technically in line with the coordinated suiting that came to define the period. The ensemble had made its way into every corner of American life during the '70s — office buildings and dance floors alike. For women, the pantsuit marked a radical departure from domestic codes of dress, and designers pivoted, recognizing they were no longer dressing to stay at home. But Bondi's outfit offers none of the drape or fluidity that gave the leisure suit its appeal. It's a far cry from the androgynous cool of Bianca Jagger's white Studio 54 tuxedo. 

What might have redeemed the look — if only slightly — were the shoes. A well-chosen platform could have salvaged some of the intent. But for better or worse, the Oval Office photographer didn't catch them in the frame.