The Suit Makes the Man? Zelensky, Symbolism, and America’s Warped Priorities

When War Meets Wardrobe: The Symbolism of Zelensky’s Attire and America’s Obsession with Optics

When Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky stepped into the Oval Office this week, he was met with a question so absurd it almost defies belief. Reporter Brian Glenn, rather than asking about military aid, strategic alliances, or the ongoing brutal war in Ukraine, decided his most pressing inquiry was about Zelensky’s attire.

Why wasn’t he wearing a suit?

Zelensky, without missing a beat, fired back: “Maybe after this war is over, I’ll wear a suit. Maybe nicer than yours. Maybe cheaper than yours.”

It was a response filled with wit, cutting through the ridiculousness of the moment with a truth that should have been obvious to anyone paying attention: There are far more important things happening than the fit of a man’s jacket.

Yet, here we are. In an era where political theater often matters more than policy, where optics overshadow substance, and where some Americans seem to believe that a suit defines a leader more than their actions.

The Uniform of a Nation at War

Zelensky’s military-style clothing has become a defining visual of Ukraine’s struggle. The olive-green T-shirts, the utilitarian cargo pants, the simple fleece jackets—none of it is accidental. His attire is a direct reflection of his country’s reality: they are in a fight for survival, and his clothing is a constant reminder of that fact.

His choice to forgo a suit is not about rebellion against Western norms; it is a deliberate, symbolic act. When you are leading a country that is being bombed, when civilians are dying, when soldiers are defending their homes, putting on a tailored suit is not just unnecessary—it’s inappropriate.

Imagine Winston Churchill changing into formalwear before delivering his wartime speeches in London’s underground bunkers. Imagine George Washington insisting on powdered wigs and silk breeches while crossing the Delaware. The very thought is absurd, and yet Zelensky is expected to play dress-up for the comfort of a reporter who apparently believes that war leaders should be more…polished?

The question itself betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of what leadership looks like.

A Tale of Two Presidents

Contrast Zelensky’s uniform with the figure sitting across from him: Donald Trump, decked out in one of his signature suits—ill-fitting, boxy, and garish, yet always presented as a symbol of power.

Trump’s suits have long been an oddity, not because they are particularly fashionable, but because they embody a specific kind of American excess: oversized, expensive-looking (though not necessarily well-made), and meant to signal status rather than function.

The suit, for Trump and for many in the American political machine, is a costume. It is armor, not against bullets or war, but against scrutiny. It signals importance, seriousness, and authority—whether those qualities exist in the man wearing it or not.

It is the perfect representation of what American politics has become: a place where looking the part often matters more than actually doing the job.

The Warped Priorities of the American Political Spectacle

This fixation on appearance is not new. The idea that “the suit makes the man” is deeply embedded in American culture, a relic from a time when clothing was believed to dictate class, credibility, and competence. But in an era of global crisis, should it really still be the standard by which leaders are judged?

Zelensky is leading a war effort, and his priority is survival, not style. Meanwhile, in America, reporters—who should be focusing on the billions in aid being debated, the state of diplomacy, or the ongoing toll of war—are instead playing fashion police.

It’s a perfect encapsulation of how warped our priorities have become.

In the U.S., where politics is often treated as a reality show, many still seem to believe that leadership is about looking the part rather than being the part. The obsession with optics has led to a bizarre disconnect: a belief that a good president must look presidential, even if they lack substance, and that someone in combat fatigues must not be taking things seriously because they aren’t dressed for a boardroom.

Who Is the Suit Really For?

When Zelensky wears military fatigues, the message is clear: My country is at war. I stand with my people. I am not above them.

When Trump wears his suit, what does the message become? I am powerful. I belong here. Respect me.

One is practical, the other performative. One is for the people, the other for the cameras.

And yet, some Americans seem more preoccupied with the latter, with the theater of politics rather than the reality of governance. Zelensky’s suit—or lack thereof—isn’t what should concern us. What should concern us is the fact that, in a moment where the world is at a critical juncture, when democracy itself is under threat, when a nation is being bombed and a leader is fighting for its survival—some people still think the biggest issue is what he’s wearing.

The irony is, once the war is over, Zelensky probably will wear a suit again. And as he so cleverly pointed out, it might be nicer than the reporter’s. Or cheaper. But one thing is certain: he will have earned the right to wear whatever he damn well pleases.