Song, Sunshine, and Stories: Projecting Images

The subject of modesty is such a well ridden and downtrodden horse in this day and age. I've read hundreds of articles and blogs and books over the years detailing what each author's beliefs, thoughts, and opinions are on modesty, and have gone through a number of stages and ideas that I tried for myself--both voluntary and involuntary. The other night as I was vacuuming the halls of the chemistry lab at work and thinking random thoughts about random stuff, an eye opening flash bulb went off in my head and I suddenly realized that everything I'd ever read on the subject of modesty had missed the mark. Perhaps others have written about the same thing I thought of. But I don't remember hearing it preached or taught anywhere, and I am excited to jot down these new thoughts while they're fresh in my mind.

First a little of my background. When I was around seven years old my parents came under the influence of several teachers who preached a severe and cult-like form of Christianity, and decided that it was the thing for them. They wanted to live godly lives, and this must be the way to do it. I remember when the restrictions on what I could wear began. First it was no bathing suits, shorts, or pants. Then it was no T shirts. Then it was no short sleeve shirts for the boys (although we girls could wear sleeves to just above the elbow--weird!) Then it slowly graduated to denim skirts and calico shirts or denim jumpers, until my mother pounced on a treasure that would affect the way we dressed for the next decade. It was, I kid you not, Amish dress patterns! My goodness was she excited. She literally got together with friends of ours and had a big sewing party, making long, neck-to-floor cape dresses for all of us. I was around eleven or twelve by then, and barely beginning to have opinions about clothes. I still just wore whatever my parents bought for me, without thinking about it.

Then I discovered, in a magazine my parents received, a lengthy article entitled "The Sin of Bathsheba." To my impressionable budding preteen heart, this article was like opening a whole new door of wonder and knowledge for me! So this is what the whole modesty thing is about, I told myself, excited. In a nutshell, the piece tells the story of King David and Bathsheba in the Bible and then details in great length how the sin was on Bathsheba's part, not so much David's. By bathing in a place where he could see her, she ensnared him with her fatal beauty and it was her fault that he committed adultery with her. Then the author of the article applied his twisted logic to women everywhere, cautioning over and over that if we ladies aren't careful, we will entangle poor helpless men with our beauty and cause them to stumble and sin, and it's our God-given duty not to do so. He even listed the various articles of clothing that would specifically cause a man to think lustful thoughts! Sleeveless tops, and pants, are the only two I remember. (Maybe he had a fetish?)

I was so happy to finally discover the reason for the modesty madness that had possessed my mother. I, too, would jealously safeguard the honor of any man I came across and make sure he didn't sin with his heart when he looked at me.

Problem was, I had absolutely no way to know what other people were thinking. And I had no idea that men and women too can be utter pervs and no amount of clothing was going to stop that. The wave of sexual sins of every kind you can think of, among my peers who all wore "modest clothing" like me, shows that clothes can't change hearts. (There was lots of other stuff going on also, but I'm only addressing the modesty thing at the moment.) As one young man put it, "You could wear a circus tent and we'd still know what's under it."

I struggled for all of my teens and early adult life to figure out just what modesty was. Was it dresses? Was it pants? What on earth is it? Do I just give up worrying about whatever others think and wear whatever I want to? How much skin is too much? My uncle said something very wise to me in my early teens which, although it stuck with me, didn't sink in like it should have. If I'd realized the full truth of his casual statement, I could have saved myself years of grief.

"The bait that you use is the fish that you'll catch."

What he meant was that if I was to dress like a ho, I'd catch a boy who liked ho's. If I dressed like a homeschooled backwoods girl, I'd probably attract a homeschooled backwoods boy. If I dress like a normal person, I'll probably attract a fairly normal guy. And this leads to the huge "DUH!" moment I had this evening. Modesty is a non-issue altogether. The key is to dress appropriately!

I started thinking about all the different societal functions I'm involved in. And it struck me how when preparing for my day each morning I really never think about modesty at all. I think of of what the appropriate outfit for the day's activities will be. If I'm going to the gym, I wear gym shorts or leggings and racerback tank top and tennis shoes. I wouldn't dream of wearing these clothes to church! That would be both immodest and inappropriate. If I'm taking my girls to the water park, we wear bathing suits. Again, imagine wearing swimsuits to Grandma's funeral! That would be a terrible breach of propriety that all society would frown upon. (Unless it's a traditional Hawaiian funeral, of course, LOL--I've been watching Hawaii Five-0.) My husband has to wear a company shirt to work. Is he offended by that, does he feel his individuality is squashed? Of course not. They hired him, and he understands he must be professional at work. If we are out on a date, I like wearing a pretty dress, perhaps somewhat revealing, because I'm with him and I know he likes that. Around the house, I can pretty much wear anything or nothing at all (though the girls are getting too old for that now). It's my home, my cave, my castle, my rules. But outside my house God commands me to live peaceably with all men if possible, and part of that is conforming to the dress code society expects, because I don't want to offend my fellow humans and I want to be a testimony for Christ.

What I am trying to say is that human people, men and women both, are exceedingly visual creatures. We project images, and receive images constantly. Our brains instantly process our first impression when we meet someone. We meet a man or woman in a neat business suit carrying a briefcase, and we assume they are a white collar worker of some kind. That might be utterly false, but it's the impression they convey.

When you see a person in a tutu and pointe shoes you don't think "Hey, she must be a plumber!" A guy in a ten gallon hat, jeans, boots, and spurs projects the image of a cowboy. Black trench coats and sunglasses, a spy or detective or agent of some kind. A person in black heavy makeup and black clothes looks Goth. A person in a gi is probably involved in martial arts. Even different eras have different "looks", if you research fashion trends. Now, all these people might not be all these things, but this is the image they are projecting. And everyone chooses to project something each day, by both their clothing and attitude. And there's nothing wrong with that!

As a young lady growing up I began to hate projecting something I was not, day in and day out. Every single time I went out in public in my Amish cape dress and head covering I was asked if I was in a cult, or Amish, or Mennonite, or Hutterite, or in a Halloween play, and I grew so utterly sick of it. I couldn't blame the people who asked me these questions because that was exactly what I looked like! I didn't want to look like any of those things. (Now I really wish I'd saved some of those old dresses for Halloween costumes. LOL.) My journey of finding out who I was and what I wanted to project took a very long time. At one point I became involved with someone and changed myself to be what I thought he liked. I dressed the way he liked, even though it wasn't me and I didn't like it. And it wasn't healthy at all.

I love how my husband TJ encourages me to experiment and step out of my comfort zone in so many areas, including clothes. He likes seeing me try new things, and figure out what my style is. It's growing slowly but surely, and I'm already seeing my little girls light up with interest in fashion choices. Bella says "You're so beautiful, mommy, I want to be beautiful like you!" and I melt all to pieces. I tell her she's beautiful all the time, and I want to teach her and her sister how to be aware of the image they're projecting at all times. It's better than telling them "be modest." (Although I do have to tell them that also, the little nudists!) It will enable them to gauge what they want out of life, for themselves, as they grow older.

I see articles in the media about how certain groups kick up an almighty fuss about the oppression of women, and how women should be allowed to go topless or be fat or whatever and others aren't allowed to judge or admire them (I don't get how you can have both). I'm sorry, but you can't dress one way and force people to think something else. You can have individual conversations with people you know personally and tell them you're something else, but you can't be mad at total strangers, especially on media, for thinking the exact thing you're projecting. It isn't reasonable.

Peace out, folks.