TWO YEARS AGO, I kicked off a campaign for Rhode Island’s second district in the U.S. Congress. At one of my first campaign events, a voter shook his head in disbelief when I answered his question regarding my age.

“Thirty?” he repeated. “You don’t even look 13. I’m not sure that I can support you, but I’d love to hire you as a babysitter.” His was the first in a long string of comments about what I had never considered my “youthful appearance.”

It wasn’t only my age that was fodder for commentary, though. I’ll never forget the lunch I had with a big supporter who, half-way through the meal, wrote a phone number on a napkin. I thought it was the number of a prospective donor or someone who might endorse my candidacy. But as she handed me the napkin, she said, “Highlights. Call and make an appointment to get your hair highlighted. It’ll look so much better.” I never did, and she never let me forget it.

Then there was the make-up artist who called my campaign office after seeing me on television; she just wanted to let us know that she was more than willing to “help.”

On what seemed like a daily basis, I heard that my hair was too long, my neck line too low, my heels too high (odd, considering that I was also “too short”), and my make-up too subtle. And on the days that my height, wardrobe, and hairstyle happened to pass muster, new fashion do’s and don’ts arose. I came to realize that, no matter what I wore or how I presented myself, my appearance would always be scrutinized, if not by the press, then certainly by the public.

It hasn’t been from a place of naïvetÉ, therefore, that I’ve followed this year’s women in politics. I wasn’t particularly shocked when The New York Times lauded Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi for securing the votes to increase the minimum wage, fund stem-cell research, and reduce the price of prescription drugs for seniors, all while “looking preternaturally fresh, with a wardrobe that, while still subdued and over-reliant on suits, has seldom spruced the halls of Congress.”

I wasn’t stunned and in utter disbelief when The Washington Post barely discussed the education policy Sen. Hillary Clinton promoted while donning a neckline that “sat low on her chest and had a subtle V-shape.” Indeed, I was even willing to delude myself into thinking that maybe this is just the way we’re talking about the Democratic majority in Congress this year.

I should have known that such was not the case when my search for similar references to Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid’s wardrobe failed to uncover his favorite designer.

But it actually wasn’t until this week that I fully realized how ubiquitous our superficial judgments of women and politics have become. Referring to an “unflattering” photograph of Hillary Clinton — and by “unflattering,” I mean one in which she merely looks her age — Rush Limbaugh asked, “Does our looks-obsessed culture want to stare at an aging woman?”

The Drudge Report pointed out the incredible toll the campaign has clearly taken on Senator Clinton, perhaps insinuating that she is not up for the job. The Associated Press, which took the photo after Mrs. Clinton spent a day door-knocking in New Hampshire last Saturday, circulated it and polled readers as to whether such a picture could affect the election outcome. And I’ve lost count of the number of Democrats, liberals, feminists, and even anti-Hillary fanatics who sent me the photo in an attempt to commiserate over the manner in which we evaluate women candidates. Notably, nearly all of these men and women still offered commentary — some witty, some cruel — on the photo itself. After all, we live in a society where this is par for the course.

There is no question that women in politics have come a long way. More women serve in Congress now than ever before. Voters are generally receptive to women’s candidacies. And Hillary Clinton may very well become the next president of the United States. Indeed, Senator Clinton appears to have taken the photograph and its media appeal in stride. “I know you’re going to inspect me. You can look inside my mouth if you want,” she told the Associated Press.

Yet the fact remains that women are still an anomaly in politics. So, no matter what we say, how we campaign, or how seriously we’re taken, to a lot of Americans, we just don’t look the part. Having more women visible on Capitol Hill may very well change our nation’s policies and priorities. But it seems that what women wear while doing it will continue to merit substantial attention.

Maybe this is a small price to pay for women’s inclusion in politics, especially compared with the overt gender bias that was rampant not so long ago. It is a price, though — it’s one clear way that navigating the political waters remains more complex for women than men; it’s one more thing women may feel compelled to think about every day; it’s one more hurdle women must be willing to endure. Most importantly, it’s one more reason that women remain reluctant to enter the political arena.

Jennifer Lawless is an assistant professor of political science at Brown University. She is the co-author of It Takes A Candidate: Why Women Don’t Run for Office (Cambridge University Press, 2005), and a former congressional candidate in Rhode Island’s second district.