It’s that time of year again! The time when women start talking about modesty. Or start talking about how we shouldn’t be talking about modesty. Or talk about modesty without using the word “modesty” because of its negative connotations (I personally prefer “tasteful” or “classy”). Or talk about how modesty is an outdated idea used by women in denim jumpers to judge everybody else. You know what I’m talking about.
This is the time of year where we (finally! Right, Nebraska?!) have packed away the long-sleeved shirts and sweaters and have filled our drawers and the drawers of our kids with their shorts, tank top, t-shirts, and swimsuits. And as we see the reappearance in local public places of ladies whose ideals of dress conflict with our own, we are confronted once again with how we can manage to be “in the world but not of it”. We don’t want to be overly Amish in our dress (although when swimsuit shopping, it wouldn’t take much to convince me that’s the way we all should go), but we also don’t want to be objectifying ourselves.
I’m afraid that women think we can have our cake and eat it too. We think we can dress provocatively and yet not provoke. We can publicly display our assets and yet be valued for our intellect and respected for our talents. We can dress scandalously and yet we’re not responsible if others are scandalized.
I can only speak from my perspective, but here’s what I don’t think I really grasped when I was a teenager looking for attention. I genuinely thought that if there was a boy I liked and wanted attention from, I could wear something short or low-cut or tight (listen, my parents very closely monitored these things, but in my wardrobe of modest things I knew which were the most on-the-fence) and somehow I could direct that at the boy I was interested in. In the same way a dog whistle isn’t audible to humans, I thought my provocative outfit would be seen by the boy I liked and ignored by everybody else. But that isn’t how it works. If I had thought about the reality that my short dress at church was being observed by the fathers of my friends, or the usher who handed me my bulletin, or the pastor, I would have died of embarrassment. I had no desire to be desired by them, but the beauty of the female body is less the flickering light of a candle and more the intensity of a bonfire. It consumes even what we didn’t intend.
I think some grown women haven’t figured that out yet either. They want to be attractive to their husbands, so they wear something revealing without thinking about how this may be sending out the Bat Signal to every pervert (or non pervert) in a five mile radius. The attention they are getting is genuinely undesired or they may even be unaware they are getting that attention, but that doesn’t change the reality.
This is no excuse for the poor choices of men. That is ridiculous. We are all faced with temptations and when we fall it is not the temptations fault, but our own. I’m also not interested in a debate about can women dress attractively and modestly at the same time. Of course they can. If you don’t think so, you are not creative enough. Nobody’s saying women should wear choir robes to keep men from lusting. And I wish women would be honest about this- we are as distracted by the scantily clad women as men are. That distraction doesn’t (generally) take the form of sexual desire, but it does stir strong feelings in our own hearts: protectiveness for our sons or husbands, competitiveness, envy about somebody else’s body, or discouragement. It may put roadblocks in the way of viewing that woman as a sister or friend. When we choose to dress modestly, it isn’t just some kind of lust prevention strategy, but out of respect for the HUMANS around us- men and women.
It makes me sad that I’m not sure there are many (any?) woman with whom I would feel comfortable addressing a modesty issue. And I’m not sure that there are many women who would lovingly confront me if I was running around in something skimpy. In fact, I think some women might congratulate me for being proud/confident/comfortable with my body while others would silently judge me. If the conversations about our sexuality and beauty end in youth group (or don’t even happen there), how do we expect women to come to understand this issue from a Biblical perspective? If our way of addressing this is to come down on a woman for not adhering to a standard she didn’t even know existed, how do we expect her to feel about the church community?
And heaven forbid this is just an issue women should be addressing. Much of my ideas on appropriate dress come from having an honest father and older brothers in my life. I had no doubts about what would or wouldn’t be okay from their perspective. And this wasn’t because they were shaming, but because they told me honestly if an outfit was going to get the wrong kind of attention. It seems that not all publicity is good publicity when it comes to your physical attributes. I hope my daughter will have a similar experience of men who love her and are honest with her about her beauty.
I am a black and white person and I know that colors how I view this issue. From my perspective, it seems like women who struggle with inappropriate dress may be broken down into two groups: those who don’t know and those who know but don’t care. Because of my upbringing, I have generally been aware of how the female body can be a distraction. I know this isn’t true for all women. Some women haven’t been coached about these things (I love this article by my friend Heather for some perspective) and when they begin to understand they are quick to want to make changes. They are seeking answers and they have hearts that want to please God. It is more difficult to know how to address the women who either do know better or in theory should know better because of their experiences in the church community. (And then there are the accidentally immodest as I have been on more than one occasion. Sometimes the dress that fit you just right, does not fit you so well when you’re having to bend down to pick a toddler up. Lesson learned.)
When having conversations about modesty it is easy to get bogged down in the thoughts about cultural bias. Yes, in different cultures different parts of the body are considered sexual. Yes, in times past even our modest outfits of today would be scandalous. Yes, even from LA to Omaha there would be different standards, but that doesn’t mean we pretend that there is no standard. In whatever location or time period we find ourselves in (for the time travelers among us) we need to be aware of what is considered appropriate and what could be causing a distraction. I’m not an advocate for a one-size-fits-all response (literally). The female body comes in many shapes and each woman needs to know how clothes fit her and what styles are flattering without being vulgar. For some women a strapless top may be more modest than something with a v-neck (although it is good to note that if you’re wearing a strapless top and sitting in a church pew, it does appear that you are naked to anyone sitting behind you. . . just a heads-up). If we start measuring our daughter’s skirts are we encouraging them to hike them up when they leave the house? The issue is about much more than simple math. Are we teaching them to value their bodies in ways that encourage modest dress so we can leave the ruler out of it? (As a rule follower myself, I do find it easy to create and adhere to my own set of modesty rules for myself and my family, but I know they are not spelled out in Scripture and I hold them loosely.) Are we giving them the kind of affirmation they need so they don’t feel compelled to post pictures from a down-the-shirt angle on social media just to get approval?
Beauty is powerful. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching a couple thousand superhero themed cartoons, power has to be used responsibly. Let’s be mindful of how we use our beauty, teach our daughters to value theirs, and encourage our sisters that we see their beauty in physical and emotional and spiritual ways best when we aren’t distracted.
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