Buckle up.... This is a rant that has been building for over ten years. Apologies for the length. (hehehe... you'll get the joke at the end)
I've been thinking a lot about 'modesty' lately. It was recently pointed out to me that modesty should not be about what you are wearing, but rather how you act no matter what you are wearing. In other words, "the quality or state of being unassuming or moderate in the estimation of one's abilities". (Link) In my religion we have hijacked this word and made it synonymous with dress standards.
In my religious upbringing there are very strict dress codes and requirements. Now, dress and it's appropriateness is a cultural issue. It is not an eternal principle! It's not even a blanket issue for every member of our church, not even for every female member. I have also recently been thinking about the concept of 'slut shaming'. This involves shaming women into acting, dressing and behaving in "appropriate" ways. There are various levels and methods from comments by co-workers to being accosted in the street.
When I was twelve years old, I was a chubby kid with a very unfortunate mullet-like hair cut. I was very sheltered and innocent. In our church, at twelve children graduate from "Primary" and begin attending "Young Men" or "Young Women" classes. This is also when modesty indoctrination begins in the extreme.
So, there I was, a young girl, very excited to grow up and become one of the teenagers. I will never forget one summer day, I went to a church activity, all pumped up with righteous excitement. After being at the activity for a few minutes, I could tell there was some sort of problem going on. The leaders were gathered together whispering. Finally, one of them came over to me and informed me that my shorts were too short. And if I wanted stay and participate I would have to wear a mumu wrap. Now, just to clarify I was not wearing short shorts. I was wearing shorts that were maybe 2 inches above my knee. I've always had long legs and in my innocent twelve year old mind it never occurred to me that my shorts were inappropriate. My parents never said anything either. This was my first experience where I was defined by what I was wearing and shamed. And it worked! The other girls were appalled! After that night none of them ever dared wear anything that would subject them to such degradation. I was the only one in that group who ever had to wear that wrap.
Fast forward a few years. I was now about sixteen, moved to a different area. At this point I understood the concept of modesty. I knew that I had to cover myself because boys couldn't handle themselves. I accepted that and did my best to conform. I wore capri length pants, never shorts. I wore sleeves.
In my church, the teenagers have a dance every few months or so. It's a huge social event and dress to said event is always a big issue. That year, the local leaders had implemented the rule that not only did shoulders, knees and midriff need to be covered, but that capri length pants were not acceptable. A girl's options were either long pants or skirts. And at that point I simply threw up my hands and said, "I don't understand!" Capris were now considered immodest? Maybe I was having flash backs to the experience as a twelve year old, but I was so frustrated and angry, my Mom suggested that I avoid going to activities like this in the future.
Then at church one night, we had a panel discussion where we, "the youth" could ask our local leaders questions. I raised my hand, and asked "Why can't we wear capri pants to dances?" The leaders quickly bypassed my very sincere question, with some mumble about it being a more formal occasion. We are not talking about prom here, we are talking about a very low-key, in the gym, juvenile dance. This was just avoidance.
The Honor Code at the university I attended had extensive dress requirements, unfortunately with a self-righteous aspect of shaming. It is also blatantly biased towards infractions by women.There have been numerous experiences by women publicized lately which reveal the demeaning actions and humiliation encountered by women who have been singled out as violators. (One on Valentines' Day) As part of this Honor Code, every potential violation is investigated and the perpetrator is made to feel like they have taken advantage of the poor men around them, who are at the mercy of those around them. There was even an uproar about women wearing messenger bags, because it emphasized their womanly curves.
I'm sorry if my appearance offends you, my burka is on back-order! And in cultures where women wear burkas, their eyes are sexualized! There is no winning this battle!
All these rules do is shame women into believing that they are defined by their appearance. That who they are is not important, but the appearance that they present is the most important.
I'm also the first one to jump on my soap box about how lax and lazy our culture has become in their appearance. Visit any Walmart and look at the people in their pajamas, flip-flops or waistbands around their knees. But I'm not going to impose my appearance desires on anyone else or define women by the length of their clothing. I am a capable woman. I can be responsible for my thoughts and actions and I extend that same privilege to those around me.
I will not dress "sexier" for you, I will not "cover up" for you.
And that is the long and short of it.
