Kasia January 10th, 2008
I think my post yesterday is going to spark a whole series of follow-up posts. I want to start by saying THANK YOU to all the commenters (except myself, of course). I especially appreciate all the suggestions, and will be following up accordingly.
For today: Fr. Schnippel’s comment struck me. First, it (of course) was gratifying to hear someone, especially a priest, confirm what I’ve noticed and give me a shout-out for trying to buck the trend. Thanks, Father!
I attended a wedding recently where the bride, a friend and former co-worker, wore a red strapless ball gown. Her service was in the banquet hall’s little “chapel” (I scare-quote the word because her service was intentionally secular, and I realize the word will connote something more religious to most of my readers), and while I certainly wouldn’t have worn the dress, it didn’t offend me that she did. I actually thought it was quite a striking gown - if I were ever to attend the Inaugural Ball or some such thing, and if I were not personally averse to strapless dresses for modesty reasons (not to mention aesthetic reasons - I’m chubby), I could see wearing it. But again - she and her now-husband both are very anti-church/anti-established religion, and their service reflected that. I certainly don’t begrudge her the opportunity to purchase that particular dress.
But I remember having a conversation with her a few years ago about wedding apparel, and something she said struck me as significant enough that I want to bring it up and sort of tease it out a little bit, because I think this is part of what drives this sort of trend in wedding dresses. I was arguing that, on this day more than any other, you are presenting yourself to your husband-to-be, in front of God, and a certain mystique and modesty seemed very appropriate. After all, the attendees certainly didn’t need to see what he would be seeing that night, right?
She countered that it was precisely on that day that it seemed fitting to look a little extra-sexy for your husband-to-be, and that it was entirely appropriate to show some extra skin. (Remember, this is not necessarily in a church/religious context.)
I think there are a couple of things going on there. First, she and I were starting from fundamentally different places regarding what constitutes modest or appropriate dress, which doesn’t help. Second, she and I were operating from different assumptions about the degree of premarital intimacy. But third, and this is what I really wanted to dig into a little bit, is that she and I were operating under different assumptions about what beauty is, and who should see it.
I remember being very young - probably eight or ten years old - and playing with my towel after bathing, making what were essentially hijabs and niqabs with it. I loved pulling the towel over my hair and face, imagining myself with mysterious, kohl-lined eyes peeking out from behind the veil. (Too bad I’m not down with Islamic theology, eh?) I thought that the women I saw in National Geographic who wore those veils were simply the most beautiful, exotic women EVER. Now, I went through some fairly exhibitionist phases, but eventually reverted back to a more modest style of dress. Because the thing is, I think that it’s none of Joe Blow’s business what my goodies look like. I keep thinking of something Wendy Shalit quoted in her book A Return to Modesty: “The daughters of Israel are not for public use.” And I am likewise not for public use. I also keep thinking of something I heard a young Muslim woman say about why she chose to wear a hijab: she was a jewel, and if you have a jewel you don’t flash it around for everyone to see. If you do, someone is apt to try to steal it. Instead, you keep it safe.
Going back to what my co-worker said about looking sexy for your husband-to-be, quite apart from the question of looking sexy in a church (which is a whole separate post), I think she was operating under the assumption that if you have a beautiful jewel, you let people see it, so they know you have it. I was operating under the assumption that you and your husband-to-be know you have this jewel, and you don’t need to flash it around for everyone else to see. After all, it’s not for public use.
I think that, as a culture, we’ve become so accustomed to “bling” and flashing around our jewels (so to speak) that to a significant degree we’ve lost our appreciation for more mysterious or subtle beauty. A different friend of mine, whose first language was not English but who spoke it more fluently and beautifully than many native speakers I’ve known, once was consoling me when I was feeling unattractive. She gave me this gem that I don’t think I’ll ever forget:
“[Clam], you and I, our beauty does not give itself away cheaply. But when we find someone who sees it, he will appreciate it so much more.”
She was talking about our faces, but I think it extends to modesty too. And I think it’s unfortunate that we’ve so thoroughly conditioned ourselves to see “daring to bare” as the paragon of sexiness. I think we’ve gotten to the point where it’s more daring to conceal.
What do y’all think?
