First Lady Wedding Gowns That Wouldn't Make It Down Today's Aisle

Of all the jobs in the world, the presidency invites a pretty close comparison to marriage. The commander-in-chief is, surely, wedded to the office, bound to duty, and committed, in theory, to something larger than himself. And yet, before the first oath is taken on the Capitol steps, someone else takes another set of vows: the woman standing beside him.

In choosing a wife, a presidential hopeful is drafting a public surrogate — someone to stand smiling through parades, public dinners, speeches, and scandals, ideally with inoffensive, effortless poise. The role comes with expectations, and the first test of those expectations often begins at the altar. Unfortunately, sometimes it happens in a questionable dress.

Today's brides have time and hindsight on their side. They're able to look back on decades of bridal fashion with a clearer sense of which styles endure and which ones are best left in the past. Fewer are bound by the pressure to marry young or dress for anyone but themselves. They're more likely to seek bridal outfit designers that prioritize authenticity and sustainability, and are increasingly unafraid to reject outdated wedding trends and traditions you should honestly just skip.

But the First Ladies of yesteryear weren't so lucky. They pledged themselves to future presidents, whilst their gowns pledged allegiance to trends that didn't survive the decade — and certainly wouldn't make it down the aisle today.

There's no denying the red flags in Donald and Melania Trump's marriage, kicking off with their ostentatious, gold-trimmed Mar-a-Lago wedding in 2005. Melania Knauss, as she was then known, arrived at Bethesda-By-the-Sea Episcopal Church with the fanfare of a state visit.

Her gown was designed by John Galliano for Christian Dior during his most performatively decadent years. Trump's third bride opted for a high-drama silhouette, anchored by a tightly corseted bodice and inflated to rococo proportions with a voluminous skirt.

In the early 2000s, wedding fashion embraced gauche celebrity maximalism and reality-TV aspirations (just look at the Kardashian wedding dresses). But even by the period's standards, Melania's dress feels excessive. There's no denying the workmanship, but its scale and sheen push it into near-parody. In today's bridal landscape, it would fly as a pantomime costume.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue? Betty Bloomer certainly had the last bit covered when she married then-Congressional hopeful Gerald Ford in 1948, opting for a sapphire suit. It was a sharp-shouldered, A-line ensemble that reflected her status as a divorcée (which still carried a social stigma at the time).

In the context of late 1940s American modes, Ford's look made sense. Excess was tempered by propriety. Viewed through a contemporary bridal lens, however, the look falters. The high-shine satin photographed harshly, unforgiving under flash, and would be entirely ill-suited to the Instagram age. Even among non-traditional brides, color is now more likely to appear in the form of soft pastel, painterly florals, or tonal layering. As for the hat, it's not one likely to grace a Pinterest board anytime soon.

The wedding dress of Michelle Obama, née Robinson, has little in common with the inspiring silhouettes that would later land among her biggest fashion risks of all time. Nor does it hint at the confident minimalism and sharp tailoring that would come to define Obama's style evolution since leaving the White House. But for her Chicago ceremony in 1992, she was a young bride of her time.

Bridalwear was embracing a certain fairy-tale flamboyance, carrying a hangover from the '80s in the form of synthetic skirts, ballooned sleeves, and shiny satin. Obama's Bardot gown — named for the off-the-shoulder style popularized by sultry screen siren Brigitte Bardot — followed the prevailing script of bridal grandeur. But it was a dress firmly of its time, with little ostensible concern for how it might one day look in a more minimally inclined retrospective.

It wasn't until December 2023 that new light was cast on Ronald and Nancy Reagan's wedding, when their daughter, Patti Davis, revealed in her memoir that the union had been prompted by a reluctant obligation, after her father learned her mother was pregnant. "In tears, he told her that he felt his life was ruined," one biographer recounted. Within that context, the bride's understated outfit begins to make more sense.

The future First Lady chose a gray suit with a prim white collar. The only concessions to ceremony came in the form of a small bouquet (placed in pictures, perhaps not incidentally, just in front of her stomach) and a halo of white flowers attached to a dotted veil.

Today, a gray skirt suit with bridal trim might work for a courthouse elopement or a stripped-down civil ceremony, but even then, it would require significant tailoring upgrades and styling tweaks.

Fashion was far from the centerpiece when Hillary Rodham married Bill Clinton in 1975. The dress — a high-necked, Victorian-inspired gown with crocheted lace — was a last-minute buy from an Arkansas mall. It cost $53. That it hasn't aged amazingly well is hardly surprising.

The garment, at the time, would have reflected a certain mass-market take on the romantic revival that defined mid-'70s bridalwear: bishop sleeves, high collars, and prairie-goth, vaguely Edwardian detailing. And though weddings are going retro, with Pinterest predicting a comeback for 70s-inspired ceremonies, Clinton's dress stands as proof that not every original is worth resurrecting.