Measurable Modesty?

For many of us here in the U.S., it’s been hot summer, with temperatures tipping over, cooking us all like we were thrown in a slow baking national crock pot.

Yet even in those conditions, despite the comforts of air conditioning, I still go a little stir crazy stuck in an office all day. By the end of the day all I want to do is run, bike fast, hit a tennis ball, do anything – just so it is outside.

On one of those steamy hot days, I waited until late evening then threw on shorts and tank top and went running. But even then, I was immediately sweating bullets without nearly lifting a foot.

On my way back, ahead of me was a Moslem woman jogging completely covered, draped in layers of heavy brown material, her forehead and neck hidden. With every stride, her white running shoes peeked out from under the folds of fabric. Yet she could hardly run without tripping over all the material. I could hardly run as I was tripping over stifling humidity.

Not many others besides she and I were out roasting themselves on a jog. I think we were just two women weary of being stuck somewhere who wanted to run our hearts out, get fresh air, and blast right past or burdens.

Yet I don’t want to ever run covered up in yards of heavy fabric. In fact, I’d never want to walk in all that. Like many girls, I’ve always been an expressively independent spirit, walking against the grain as easily as with it. As for sticking that personality type in yards of brown fabric every day? No thanks. We prefer our fabrics to be as our souls, sometimes soft, sometimes textured, sometimes flowing, a dash of daring or bashfully simple, touching closely, wrapped or loose, colorfully expressive or subtle and sweet.

Not to mention, having done gymnastics for a bunch of years as a kid, I can say running full speed and launching yourself up in the air is about as fun as it gets, but a girl can never do any of that if she wears blankets instead of a leotard.

In all that, I believe if we were to focus modesty on merely attire there is always the danger that the resulting influence or pressures will take the subtle opportunities of personal expression, and many others, away from young girls.

In the reverse, there is no doubt that the trends of our culture have been stuck in a rut relishing the exhibitionist sleazy fashion styles of Hilton, Spears, Aguilera, and others—they too have crushed the opportunities and subtle graces of personal expression. Hardly the norm in which we want our culture to remain. In fact, this insidious trend is so destructive that the discussion of style does sometimes need to involve specific elements of fashion.

But where is that discussion of fashion boundaries occurring more frequently these days? The workplace. In fact, fashion indecency in the workforce and the resulting backlash was a lead article in The Wall Street Journal. I am hoping the debate doesn't cause an annoying cultural whiplash—the return of suits that made women look like brute-shouldered tree trunks wearing androgynous pleats. That was a dreadfully ugly era. Let’s all hope it doesn’t return.

Yet, even so, the overarching foundation must be as Alexandra wrote recently: that modesty is not so much about what you wear as where your spirit is. So perhaps I lean towards a slightly different stance than some folks; it is a worrisome precedent to focus on clothes. Alexandra stated it well, “If modesty truly is a virtue, then it is not something you wear ironically.”

On that day, the woman jogging in yards of fabric and me in a tank and shorts, were one and the same-- probably both women of expressive independence, energy and rebelliousness. But I never want to be wearing what she was. Maybe she doesn’t want to wear what I was. Few of us ever want someone telling us what we must wear. Instead of rules, a culture’s dignity in fashion and love must come from a shared understanding of the deepest underlying elements of grace and respect.

As cultures struggle for creating a culture of respect and beauty, it is as Alexandra wrote, “(Modesty) is a radiance from within reflected without."

Meanwhile, it’s a gorgeous day, I think I’ll throw on a tank and shorts again and go for a run.

(P.S. Thank you Alexandra for that great post, even though it’s powerful message went over the head of the The Guardian.)

Comments

[Lori]

Here is one way of measuring the appropriateness of your clothing. If you're getting dressed for work, consider what they're paying you and how much they're billing clients for your time. Ask yourself if someone dressed just like that would inspire confidence and respect in you.

[lizriz]

Oh, I wish I could read that Wall Street Journal article! I work in entertainment in L.A., so dress is casual and showing a little breast or leg is just to be expected, but the other day I went into a meeting and this woman was dressed 100% for a picnic - short shorts, tank top and flipflops. Even here I thought it was completely absurd.

It is kind of funny that the Guardian was so offended by Alexandra's post.

[Isaac Laquedem]

Modesty in attire isn't necessarily what you wear, but how appropriate it is for the time and place. The swimwear that's appropriate for the beach is immodest at the supermarket. My college dormitory had an indoor pool in which clothing was optional. About half the students who used it wore swimsuits and half didn't. The ones who didn't were naked without being particularly immodest -- I think because it was tacitly agreed that sexuality was off-limits in the pool room. But the same students, dressed in something revealing, could appear immodest 50 feet away in the dining hall when in the company of others dressed more appropriately.

[zeezee]

Isaac What school was THAT? Can you let us know so we don't go there?! Or was that the hippy era and it's over now? Of course clothing is optional in a pool. No one goes swimming in jeans and sweatshirts. Did you mean swimsuits optional? Of course those same people looked trampy in the cafeteria -- they just stripped at the pool and are now eating a burger with you in the caf.

[Isaac Laquedem]

Zeezee, yes, I did mean that swimsuits were optional, and the school was Harvard. The pool was in Adams House, one of the dormitories, and it was some time after the hippie era. The pool has since been converted to a theatre, and I think that all of Harvard's natatoria now require swimsuits.