I have had two modesty revolutions in my life. My parents raised me with rules for modest
dress that were moderately conservative in the first place, so these
revolutions weren’t very drastic. But
they were significant.
When I was 18 and packing for a week at summer camp, it
wasn’t a wild rebellion I was converting from; it was legalism. Now usually legalism-rejection is thought of
as release from rules, but in this case it was understanding them, and even
strengthening their practical outworking by my new convictions.
As a young woman hoping to be married and with an eye on one
boy in particular, I had been feeling disappointed at the lack of romantic
attention. I’d been, à la purity
movement, attempting to wrestle back crushes and all feelings of attraction
preceding open commitment, which did at least have the advantage of helping me
to trust God with the hope that He’d keep me from getting too involved with a
man not meant for me. But looking back,
my philosophy of disguise and suppress had the disadvantage of being at least
as responsible for my loneliness as was my modest dress. I didn’t think of all that while I was
packing that year. I felt that
form-fitting, curve-accentuating tank tops which barely met the letter of the
dress code were a promising, take-charge strategy for demanding that one boy’s
attention.
As Providence would have it, though, the radio station I’d
been listening to as I folded and tried on, counted and packed, began to play a
women’s Bible study program I’d recently discovered. I don’t remember anymore the exact words
Nancy Leigh DeMoss said, except that it convinced me my motives were all wrong:
that the core meaning of modesty is to NOT force others to give us attention
and praise. Feeling the conviction of
the power play I’d been intending, I pulled everything out of my suitcase to
start over, not even daring the temptation of brining the tanks to layer with
other things (the reason I owned them at all).
For the second paradigm shift, we have to fast forward several
years, past the full-Victorian skirt alternating with denim in classic
homeschool style phase, and through a deep contemplation of biblical teachings
on gender roles and leadership. This
revolution was more gradual. Part of it
was a maturing familiarity with what did and didn’t look good on me
personally. More forceful was the
conviction that too much “modesty” or inattention to beauty was making it hard
for Christian men and also younger girls and even non-Christian women to resist
the allure of worldly, far less modest women.
At this time of my life, I had been introduced to sidewalk
counseling. And I noticed that one of
the ladies who’d been out there most consistently, and had dozens of “saves”
over the years, always did her hair and came in a nice blouse and comfortable,
but nice pants or jeans. She didn’t wear
t-shirts with messages that would scare non-Christians away. There’s a place for confrontational t-shirts,
but her goal was to invite women to interact with her, to listen to the help
she offered, and to trust her. I
imagined being one of those pregnant women, with so many misplaced values. While overcoming the prejudices against
people outside abortion clinics, personal fears of motherhood, and priorities
of a life without a child for the present – did these girls also have to be
asked to get past a slovenly or completely out-of-date appearance of the one
offering help? The other lady was older,
not very likely to incite jealousy in women walking in with boyfriends, but I
still look fairly young, and try to balance my look with being approachable
but, harkening back to my first revolution, not demanding attention that would
make me seem a threat to a potentially fragile relationship. I want to be “all things to all people”
without being on the level of immodesty that some of these women practice.
Young girls seek role models. They look around for someone who looks
beautiful, and try to imitate all they see.
It’s natural. Admittedly, girls
go through stages where they believe anything with glitter and sequins is
pretty; then they hit the lace stage, and move on to the dangly earrings. At least I did, as a kid. So I’m not saying young girls are the most
discerning. But they can tell, when
someone is trying to look good, and that shapes what they define as
beautiful.
Young men were once young boys who probably experienced a
similar thing as the young girls, though I have not had any direct experience,
and far fewer conversations on the subject with men. Additionally, though, they start to shape
convictions, all muddled together with ideals of modesty and what sort of woman
would make them the sort of wife that would go with the sort of life they’re
aspiring to. And here’s where it gets
tricky, because Christian young men are taught to value modesty. They don’t have to be taught to value beauty;
it’s kind of built in. A good Christian
woman may or may not be pretty, but she must be modest. That’s the kind of girl to keep an eye out
for. So the youth pastors and the parents
and the mentors say. But biology and
Disney and pretty much ever commercial or TV show ever tells them that they
should look for a woman who will make them happy. And that, they soon discover, is far easier
to feel when a woman is looking her best.
But guess what: the good, modest
Christian girls are so busy being modest that they’re not trying to be
beautiful.
A good Christian teenage girl is taught to consider her
brother, and to esteem his needs and temptations. Therefore, she must be careful to cover
up. No argument. My revolution came when I realized that my
Christian brothers needed the help of their sisters combining modesty with
looking good. It wasn’t fair to give
them the impression – whether they were interested in me personally or not –
that in order to choose a good woman, they had to sacrifice beauty. It just wasn’t helpful to demand that men
eschew every pretty women for one who looked like Mary Bailey, librarian, in
the nightmare “what-if” of It’s A Wonderful Life: camouflage-like earth tones,
hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, unadorned lips pressed together in a
disapproving refusal to laugh. It wasn’t
edifying to try to redefine beauty as only having to do with the inside.
Don’t get me wrong.
“Charm is deceitful, and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the
Lord is to be praised.” That’s advice
given in the Bible to a man about what kind of woman is a good wife. And men should absolutely be taught
that. Disney should be defied, with
their lies that following your heart is the way to live, and that attraction is
the way to know if she’s “the one”.
Attractions can and do change completely, or ebb and flow. The lies are destructive not only to choosing
spouses, but to staying married. They
lie about what marriage (and sex) even is about. These things that I believe rather fiercely
were all also at the forefront of my mind as I met this second revolution.
I decided to change, to be way more intentional about how I
look, to be competitive for the delight of little girls, to use my appearance
to speak of my intentions to stand-offish abortion-minded women, and to make it
easier for any man to believe that a woman can be good and pretty. And if a man is supposed to love me, I don’t
want to make it hard for him!
I decided to do my Christian brothers and sisters (and
hopefully myself) a service and give them something pleasant and non-seductive
to look at. If a good song or a lovely
painting can be expressions of creativity designed to point attention to our beautiful
God, then can’t the way we present ourselves communicate good things, too? God made beauty, and attraction, and within
appropriate limits, I wanted to represent those truths. I tried to encourage my girl friends to think
about these things. Little girls I know
are dazzled by jewelry, make-up, and pretty clothes. I wanted to show them those things could be
enjoyed without short skirts and revealing tops. Their moms needed reinforcement that
immodesty isn’t the exclusive manifestation of beauty. Neither does one have to be unattractive to
have good character. I began wearing
necklaces often, especially around little girls obsessed with sparkle. I found clothes that fit and were sometimes
even fashionable! A while later, I
noticed the actresses whose eyes and faces I liked the most wore subtle
eye-liner, so I got some and figured out for the first time how to use that one
kind of make-up, still not every day, but sometimes.
It is still hard, to care but not too much. It is a battle to allow myself to be
attractive without worrying too much about being “all
kinds of perfect” (until I can invite input from my own husband, whose
opinion ought to count for a lot!) I
have to deal with a bit more unwanted attention. To be honest, my wardrobe is more lax than it
used to be: I own shorts and sleeveless tops, for example.
Whether my ideas are “working” is hard to say, but I believe
I’ve hit on some truths that are wroth responding to, however we do it.
To God be all glory.
