3. Is that made out of Chewbacca fur?
Elizabeth Lin
362

Mostly lacking the contrived insignia and modern materials and forms present in clothing seen in other Sci-Fi franchises, the wardrobe of principle characters in Star Wars has always possessed an exceptionally timeless quality. This seems to reflect the broader timelessness of situations and themes present in all seven films.

Gaudy, impractical garments can be spotted in metropolitan centers like Coruscant, but Star Wars’ heroes tend to emerge from unlikely origins. These humble subjects of onscreen metamorphosis can be identified with by the everyman, and their clothing is an important part of this sense of accessibility. Padmé Amidala is an exception to this rule, but her extravagant wardrobe is justified by her royal status.

Since the beginning, Star Wars fans have had to accept the presence of technology and society far more advanced than our own as commonplace in a galaxy far, far away that thrived a long time ago. This suspense of disbelief is only possible when empathy is created for the galaxy’s citizens and conflicts. Tattered, earthy garments are far more effective in soliciting this empathy than super-suits made of unrecognizable, futuristic material.

Luke and Yoda’s clothing melds them into their environment.

Unsurprisingly, many of the merchandising attempts to capitalize on Star Wars’ success are designed in direct opposition to this subtle, timelessly practical aesthetic. Bedazzled “galactic gifts” and skeumorphic imperial high-heels are hardly representative of a world created in the spirit of basic humanity. Instead, they pander to indulgent habits of excessive consumption — then again, perhaps these are basic traits of humanity after all.