Michelle Obama urged everyone to vote. Her necklace spelled it out.


It was a largely red, white and blue evening cut off by a delicate chain with four letters protruding on a thin gold chain, like four bated breath: STEM.

The first night of the 2020 Democratic National Convention may have taken its unofficial hints of dress code (at least for many of the marquee’s speakers) from the theme of a return to first principles – “We the people,” “United “- as reflected in primary colors. But it was the necklace, worn by Michelle Obama for her concluding keynote, that symbolized the new, remote reality of the moment and its urgency.

It made a virtue of a recorded speech. It invites you in, emphasizing the close-up, the intimate nature of its address, attention to detail. It was not bombastic, as made to be seen in a gigantic convention center. It was personal, as was her statement. It underlined her words – spelled out the point literally so no one could miss it – because she spoke powerfully and emotionally of the need to act on empathy, to change the course of history for the better. To vote, even if you were one of those who had not voted before. It reflects just how much element of such events can matter, and are used to underline a point and leave a lasting impression.

Before she finished talking, the chain was trending on Twitter. Footwear News called it “the must-have accessory of 2020.” Viewers wanted to know where they could get one of their own, as a banner of devotion. If you wear it, will they vote? Maybe.

Is it superficial to focus on such a thing, given the topics that surround it: racial justice, social justice, economic justice, environmental justice? Perhaps.

But it is such images that draw, just as it is the excerpts from the longer speeches – “He can not satisfy this moment”; “It’s what it is” (both Mrs. Obama); ‘Nero fiddled while Rome burned. Trump golfs ”(Bernie Sanders) – that echoed afterwards. A reminder of the content that came earlier, and potentially an amplifier.

Mrs. Obama has known this since her time in the White House. In her autobiography, “Becoming”, she wrote of the attention to what she wore: “I tried to recreate it as an opportunity to learn, to use whatever power I could find in a situation.” If people were looking to see, then they must have something meaningful to take away. If she were to step back into the spotlight, she would make every aspect of it matter.

The necklace was custom made by ByChari, an independent, black-owned jewelry company founded by Chari Cuthbert, born in Jamaica and now based in Los Angeles, who also made Mrs. Obama’s large hoop earrings. Among them, she wore a simple bronze silk shirt from Nanushka, another female-owned independent brand, and one of the newer names at New York Fashion Week, all of which were hit hard by the coronavirus pandemic. The choices were not just about style, but about the way each decision can address the broader crises we have. Even if in the smallest way.

Along with her decision to sit down in what looked like a family room, complete with blurry personal photos and a Biden sign in the background, the understated shirt and accessories also served as a visual differentiator between the role that the former first lady now plays as a sort of cultural figure – part celebrity, part older stateswoman – and the politicians who came before.

As for the politicians, they were united in their suit and coordinated with the flags which, for many of them, were their background of choice. No matter where they were in the country. (The civic speakers, streaming from their homes via video to share their own experiences in interviews of raw conversation, were distinguished by their own, unadorned wardrobe.)

Gov. Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan, for example, stood on a stage in bright red shirt and navy blazer, the latter serving as a stubborn outsider when she called on President Trump to describe her “that woman from Michigan.” Then there was the Govt. Andrew Cuomo of New York, who wore a light blue sky in his coronavirus signature room, who adopted the federal approach to the virus. (Also in blue ties: Sen. Doug Jones of Alabama and Representative Cedric Richmond of Louisiana.) There was Senator Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota, in a true blue jacket, who demanded unity and crossed the river, and Senator Bernie Sanders of Vermont, with not a single hair without adjustment, in blue on blue, because he wholeheartedly supported Joe Biden.

And although Nevada Senator Catherine Cortez Masto waved the flags in front of the kitchen, she did so in a bright red suit and black shell. Even the former governor of Ohio, John Kasich, part of the Republican-for-Biden contingent, wore a blue checked shirt as he stood at a crossroads to talk about America at the crossroads.

For anyone who needed that point spelled out.