Rape myths remain deeply embedded in society. One of the most persistent is the belief that a woman’s choice of clothing can ‘provoke’ sexual violence, and that revealing or suggestive attire invites assault. This shifts responsibility from the perpetrator and reinforces a culture of victim-blaming, scrutinising survivors more harshly than those who caused harm.
This narrative continues to surface in courtrooms, the media, and everyday conversations. In some trials, victims’ clothing has been presented as evidence, implying that the way a woman dresses signals consent. This framing minimises the crime and redirects accountability, reinforcing deeply-rooted misogyny.
Suggesting a woman’s outfit grants a man permission to act on his impulses distorts the truth. It shifts focus from the perpetrator’s actions and places the blame on survivors. Instead of questioning what she was wearing, we should ask why he felt entitled to violate her.
Sexual violence is not about desire, it’s about power, domination, and control. The myth that men ‘lose control’ around certain clothing is inaccurate and dangerous. It excuses harm under the guise of attraction, when the violence is deliberate.
To address sexual violence effectively, the focus must shift from women’s choices to the motivations and behaviours of perpetrators. It’s not what she wore, it’s the harm he chose to inflict.
The data: a persistent problem
In London, approximately 24 cases of sexual violence are reported daily, which is about one every hour. However, Londoners are among the least likely in England to report domestic abuse.
A 2025 UK-wide report commissioned by Refuge, the UK’s largest specialist domestic abuse organisation, found adults in London are 13% less likely than those in other regions to recognise signs of abuse, such as coercive control, economic, and psychological abuse. Compared to the South of England, Londoners are 17.6% less likely to identify these behaviours as abusive, and comparably less likely than those in the Midlands, North, and East.
This points to a serious awareness gap and a deeper cultural problem. Survivors cannot report abuse if they struggle to recognise the signs. But even if they do, many believe that speaking out won’t change anything.
The justice system and victims dropping out
In 2023, government data revealed that 69.2% of rape survivors in England and Wales dropped out of the justice process in late 2022, up from 55.5% in 2016. This rise is linked to court delays and the trauma of reliving assault in lengthy proceedings. The Ministry of Justice reports the backlog of rape cases has tripled in four years, with more than 2,000 cases outstanding.
These systemic failures discourage survivors and allow harmful myths to persist. In some trials, such as the 2018 Irish rugby rape case, victims’ underwear was used as supposed evidence of consent.
The idea that clothing implies consent misrepresents the legal and ethical definition of consent, which must be clear, ongoing, and freely given. A skirt is not an invitation; underwear is not permission. Claiming otherwise blames survivors and undermines justice.
Pilot schemes like Northumbria’s legal support initiative, which offers free advice and advocacy to survivors, have improved experiences and reduced dropout rates. When survivors are properly supported, the justice system can work better.
As a society, we must stop asking what she was wearing and start asking why he felt entitled to harm her. Clothes are not consent.
A century of fashion, a century of blame
Over the past century, women’s fashion has changed dramatically, but sexual violence has remained constant. In the early 1900s, modest floor-length dresses and high necklines were the norm. The 1950s reinforced traditional gender roles with conservative styles, like full skirts and demure blouses. The 1970s to 1990s brought sexual liberation, embracing shorter hemlines and body-conscious styles. Today, fashion is diverse and expressive.
If clothing truly ‘provoked’ assault, the modest styles of the early 20th century would have prevented it. Rape occurred then just as it does now, disproving the clothing-consent myth.
Sexual violence stems from power and control, rooted in unequal gender norms. In the 1950s, women were expected to stay home, look after children, and play traditional gender roles, which reinforces male dominance. In this context, violence was a tool of control, not desire.
Courts have historically scrutinised what women wore as if it implied consent, a view experts reject. Dr Eliza Foster, lecturer in gender studies, says:
“Clothing cannot and does not convey consent. This belief shields perpetrators from responsibility and reinforces damaging stereotypes that bind women to unjust standards.”
Feminist movements have long argued it’s time to stop interrogating women’s choices and start holding perpetrators accountable.
Ending victim-blaming
Sexual violence is never the victim’s fault. Regardless of what a woman wears or how she behaves, responsibility lies solely with the perpetrator. Blaming survivors only perpetuates injustice, and silences those who need support most.
Current safety advice often focuses on women’s behaviour, urging modest dress or avoiding walking alone. Police, courts, and media have also echoed this harmful framing, with victims’ clothing cited as evidence of consent.
Yet these messages ignore the root cause: the perpetrator’s mindset and choice – and experts and advocacy groups stress the urgent need to shift focus. Feminist legal scholar Dr Emily Jackson states: “Holding victims accountable for perpetrators’ crimes is unjust and ineffective. Real change comes from challenging those who commit violence.”
Ending sexual violence means rejecting myths that excuse harmful behaviour. Society must hold offenders responsible and provide survivors with justice and respect. It’s never what she wore, it’s what he chose to do.
What a woman wears is never an invitation for violence. Clothing is never a yes.
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