Gabriella Greison, insulted for her low-cut neckline, offers her own take: "If a woman shows a little skin, it sets off a social alarm."

In 2025, a woman speaking about science while wearing a low-cut dress can still arouse surprise. This is what happened to Gabriella Greison , a physicist and narrator of quantum mechanics. The controversy erupted after, on the morning of the ceremony, Greison posted a video on her social media channels in which she enthusiastically announced her departure for Taormina , where she would speak to young graduates of the University of Messina as the godmother of the ceremony. She wore a fresh green dress with a plunging neckline : a summery choice, suitable for the heat, but also the pretext for an avalanche of criticism online.

On social media, Greison was inundated with sexist comments such as: "A little woman who needs to show off," "Indecent and undignified attire," "Advancing age forces some women to let off their last fireworks," "Vulgar and indecent," "This is no way to present yourself," "Take off that low-cut dress." Her red dress, the one she wore that same evening on stage at the Teatro Antico, also sparked controversy. The rector of the University of Messina came to her defense, denouncing the controversy as a " sexist attack disguised as moralism " and praising her speech to the new graduates, which unfortunately went unnoticed.

What was your initial reaction when you first received criticism from haters? Did you consider letting it slide?

My first reaction? A laugh. Bitter, but still a laugh. Because I know it now: as soon as a woman shows a bit of skin while talking about physics, social alarm goes off. So, she no longer resembles a man, so there's a problem. It felt like we were in a dystopian novel written by Savonarola. And yes, for a moment I thought about letting it slide. But then I remembered the speech I'd just given to the kids on stage at the Ancient Theater of Taormina: "Use irony if you're having trouble in front of someone," I said. And so I did. Irony is the only language that disarms, displaces, and makes you think."

Was there a message or comment that struck you the most?

They left no trace on me, that's just the way I am. They can tell you a random thing: 'I couldn't hear a single word of your speech in that dress.' And I thought: wow, so I've invented the first quantum suit in history. One that oscillates between the visible and the inaudible, capable of canceling every higher brain function. Here we are beyond the uncertainty principle: if you look at me, you don't understand me. If you understand me, you don't look at me. Brilliant, right? But jokes aside, I'm always struck by the messages from girls, especially when they write: 'Thank you, because now I know I can talk about physics without having to dress up as a gray scientist.' There, I never forget those. They are my real rewards.

Has this ever happened to you before?

"Yes, it's happened to me before. When I hosted TV shows—one on Rai, one on Mediaset, and one on Sky—even there, between explanations of entanglement and a Planck constant, someone would ask, 'Can you talk about physics with that lipstick on?' Because for some people, if you work in science, you have to look like you just emerged from a nuclear lab with your hairdo caught in the explosion."

In her social media replies, she sometimes used an ironic tone (“No subatomic particle was disturbed by my cleavage. The equations are all fine”) …

Because it's my way of being in the world. I use irony as a lens to see reality, even when reality is crooked. It's a way to stay clear-headed, to avoid being crushed by stupidity or malice. And also to say: look, I'm seeing you, but I'm not afraid of you. Irony dismantles serious discussions made by the wrong people. It's my antidote to gratuitous heaviness. And then... let's face it: if you're more shocked by a low-cut dress than the superficiality of certain comments, perhaps the low-cut dress isn't the problem.

She wrote: "What disturbed you wasn't the dress. It was the fact that a woman could talk about quantum physics without mentioning a man, and therefore without asking permission."

That sentence came out of me in a flash, as it often does when I'm struck by the absurdity of certain attacks. Because let's face it: if I had been a man, with the same training, the same speech, and dressed as Savonarola, no one would have had anything to say. The point wasn't the dress. It was the fact that I was there, on that solemn stage, with thousands of people listening to me, and that I was speaking about science, freedom, and choices, without having to thank any male mentor, without having to justify my presence with a patriarchal image. That sentence encapsulates all the effort it still takes to be heard for what you say, and not judged by how you look. And if it struck a chord, perhaps it's because we all felt it to be true, to some extent. Even those who struggle to admit it.

He also referred to the girls he spoke to during the graduation ceremony ("What do you think the thousands of girls who graduated were dressed yesterday? Are they therefore barred from a scientific career?"). Do you hope for them to see a world where they no longer need to "ask permission" to talk about physics? How do you think such a world can be achieved?

Yes, for them—and for all the boys and girls who were there that evening—I hope for a world where expertise doesn't have a dress code. A world where if a girl chooses a dress that's beautiful, colorful, low-cut, comfortable, or all of the above, she won't automatically be perceived as "less serious," "less authoritative," or "less suited to science." I hope a time comes when no one will ever have to ask themselves, "Will they take me seriously, just as I am?" How do we get there? With concrete examples. With raised voices. With people who don't bow to the unwritten but closely guarded rules of certain environments. And also with a little irony, because laughing at the ridiculous is already a way to change it. In short, more girls who step on stage and say, "I know what I'm talking about," without bowing their heads. And more adults who listen to them without just staring at the hem of their dresses.