Modest Muslim dress vs. high priestess poseur

The controversy continues about the wearing of modest clothing by Muslim women. Personally, I applaud states such as Syria, where women can wear secular clothing or traditional Muslim covering. However, I have a great deal of sympathy for the many Muslim women who choose to wear modest, traditional, religious approved covering. While I’m part of that most secular society, the USA, and have worn my share of shorts and trendy clothes, in general I’m most comfortable in robes and caftans, where I don’t feel I have to put on a show for gawkers. Even as a teenager I wore mostly floor length dress wherever I could, and have favored Gaza style caftans, having sewed my own, or monastic style full length hooded robes. I understand that some women in Saudi Arabia and Iran feel their freedom in dress is oppressed, but I would urge them to listen to their sisters who embrace the traditional clothing and who argue that the traditional clothing actually conveys more personal freedom and modest beauty than they realize. I know what I’m talking about because as I said, even in a rural area where I live, what women wear is just considered part of hunting season for men and women’s roving eyes! I’ve seen so many young women cut to the quick by being criticized as not being “hot,” sexy or trendy enough, from people who should not even be having those thoughts about them! In this country, perfect strangers think they can assess whether what you are wearing is revealing enough!!

Modesty is a tender beauty that offers so much to not only your family, friends, and potential beaus, but also is an offering to God. Women who are modest in dress are by example guiding their sisters and daughters to be beautiful in self containment and not exhibitionism. In the long run women who dress modestly also instruct their sons, brothers, and men who seek to be husbands to feel love and appreciation for a woman that is not constantly stoked by lust. Men do not need to be over stimulated in this society, and it is not healthy for them or for their families. Women sometimes wonder why men don’t appreciate a good woman. Well, one reason is that “bad” ones are paraded in front of them day and night, starting when the men are just boys. They don’t need coarsening on top of their already naturally stimulated hormones! Constant coarsening through exhibitionist dressing boomerangs against women in the long run, as men lose their ability to feel only tender and sexy desire for their wives, because images of strange women constantly intrude in their lives. It’s a matter of brain chemistry and psychology; one does not even have to think that this is prudish Islamic or Christian teachings.

Speaking of modesty, clothing also positively regulates or negatively interferes with one’s own self identity and the thoughts one has of oneself. Here’s a strange story of a woman I observed some years ago. When I owned a home in Connecticut, before I had to sell it to pay my graduate school bills, and hence now live in an apartment on borrowed money, I used to walk each day around the nearby lake. I liked meeting people and especially petting dogs (since my dog had died and I missed having one.) So I was as predictable as the sun, when I’d go for my walk each day. This was a monied community (it was expensive to live there) but was “lake casual,” where many people worked in construction, and kids enjoyed summer clothes and fishing. So people mostly wore shorts or slacks, or like me, summer skirts and dresses. One day I observed a tall, tanned, blonde woman sitting on one of the large rocks by the lake. She was perfectly coiffed and attired as if going to a dinner party. She sat in what she figured to be a “regal” pose on this rock with, I kid you not, two large dogs of the same breed, one sitting on each hand, one black and one white. I immediately was happy to see dogs and asked if I could pet them, and she nodded with her “regal” nod. At the moment I felt only amusement, and wondered if her car had broken down or something and she was on her way to some “doing.” But within a minute, I realized with hilarity that I successfully contained (and to this day I snigger as I type this) that she was actually posing as the “High Priestess” tarot card! Folks, I kid you not. This lame brain was obviously some self appointed “new age” something or other, and was posing to be noticed and admired, presumably by me. I’m not one to reward such puffed up egotism so I petted the dogs and when she didn’t pursue any of the usual lines of conversation (“Do you think you are reincarnated wife of Henry VIII? Do you like water because you were on the Titanic? Did you live in Syracuse because you are reincarnated St. Lucy?”) I figured she had her thrill and I continued on with my walk.

Contrast this with two women and their children that I met while walking through the Old Town section in Ankara. They were modestly dressed and spoke no English, nor I Turkish, though the friend I was visiting spoke a few phrases. We had a wonderful time and I was so impressed with their spirituality. They sold their handmade linens and scarves while watching their children. I bought two scarves and several linens. I have photos in storage of them with their beautiful shy smiles with the squirming friendly curious active beautiful children. I still smile when I think of them, and that was twelve years ago, as of this coming October. They impressed me enormously with being themselves, not poseurs, the meaning of which I doubt they would even know. They not only were dressed modestly, they loved showing me how to wear the scarves I had just bought, and it was such a tender moment between sisters from the opposite sides of the world. They were giggly and curious about whether I was married (since it was a bit odd that except for my friends I was traveling alone in Turkey.) I wore a friendship ring that looked like a wedding ring, but was not married at that time. Anyway, it was an encounter that was truly people-to-people, and the clothes that we wore simply supported who we naturally are. I was wearing what was my standard outfit at the time, which was blue silk shirt, below the knee black knit skirt, and full length opaque black tights. I had a scarf, now two new ones, in case I would be near a mosque or other place that would call for it, but during that trip I didn’t visit any place like that except the Hagia Sophia. I did admire the Blue Mosque from the outside.

Anyway, who are the real people? I think it’s not too hard to figure out. I’d happily meet the people of Turkey again, who dressed modestly yet had an open and genuine sunny smile for a Christian American. When people care only about looking like they are someone that they are not, they are as plastic as the credit cards they used for that purchase. And like those credit cards they have an expiration date, like stale bread or worse.