h pulled from both gay and lesbian fashion symbols, yet refused to adhere to any sort of dichotomy, and therefore upset the common understanding of butch and femme aesthetics (Kennison 148). Wearing pants both on screen and in real life, many of her looks played into a persona that regularly confused gender norms. She became known for her masculine outfits and perpetual drag that led to harsh criticism from the press (Kennison 149). Her look was both “fully feminine and fully masculine” in a way that clearly elicited a sense of the unease. She remained an alluring sex symbol nonetheless. Much of what made her appearance unsettling for the time was its origins. Queer spaces in the 1920s, such as ballrooms and bars, utilized specific pieces to indicate some form of subversion, as indicated in the annotations (Kennison 150-151). In pulling inspiration from these communities in a mainstream medium, the actress shifts how they may be perceived. 

Morocco, in particular, plays with the concept of an underground space home to illicit behavior. Dietrich’s character dons a tuxedo and a top hat while singing a song meant for a man, despite clearly being a woman (Kennison 152). She approaches a woman in the audience, removing a flower from the woman’s hair before swooping down for a brief kiss. The scene is played for laughs, and the woman is clearly embarrassed as she covers her face with a fan -- yet Dietrich’s character is almost boastful as she walks through the crowd and tips her hat. 

This blurring of boundaries -- between straight and gay, between public and private, between illegal and permissible -- creates an intriguing power dynamic. On the one hand, it is a joke that gets the audience on the character’s side after they jeer at her entrance. On the other, it grants her control over the room. This moment would likely not play out the same way if not for her apparel, and “asserting her power, granted to her by her tuxedo, over an entire audience, men and women, straight and gay” solidifies her prestige (Kennison 151). She transforms into a sex symbol not because of her femininity but because of her willingness to dip into the masculine, to seize that authority with brazen assurance. We may then understand her role in society’s concepts of desire as one that shifts away from the cunning seductress or harsh femme fatale and towards something altogether different, though it would take some time to become fully fleshed out.