Last Wednesday’s post about controlling boyfriends got quite a few comments. The post dealt with two young women whose beaux wanted them to stop wearing short skirts, or to stop having lunch with decidedly platonic male friends. I don’t want to re-visit that post, but I have been thinking about the ways in which we negotiate reasonable and unreasonable requests from romantic partners. What is “reasonable” is obviously culture-bound, but that doesn’t mean that some frank discussion about the limits of compromise isn’t going to be helpful.
It seems to me that there is a colossal distinction between a partner’s expression of aesthetic preference on the one hand and a fear (or jealousy) based desire to control on the other. (And let’s be clear, the line between the desire to “protect” and to “control” is a fuzzy one, and when speaking about adults, the language of the former almost always masks the true intent, which is the latter. Obviously, the advice a parent gives to a 12 year-old about how to dress is different than that a boyfriend gives to a girlfriend.) For example, it’s not inappropriate to say the following:
“I really like it when you wear black, it suits you.”
“Since you asked, I actually prefer the blue shirt, as it matches your eyes better than that magenta one you were considering.”
My wife has, at the moment, very short hair. I like very short hair on her, and indeed, prefer it on most people of both sexes. That’s an aesthetic preference on my part, and it’s one about which my beloved is not ignorant. Over the course of our nearly six-year relationship, she’s cut it very short and grown it out past her shoulders. When it was long, I never begged her to cut it, but when she asked, I never lied about my preference. “You look beautiful regardless, dear, but if you want to know my own opinion, I think you are at your most spectacular when it is very short.”
Now, expressing a preference about hair length is very different from expressing a preference about body size. As powerful as hair is in our culture, it is in some sense separate from us — it is dead and lifeless, and feels no pain when we slice it with scissors. To make a remark about a beloved’s hair may be hurtful if not expressed gently, but it’s not the same as making a remark about breasts or hips or tummies. Hair is a reflection of style, and style is easily mutable in a way that the flesh isn’t. There’s something appropriate about saying “All things considered, I like your hair better short” in a way that there isn’t about saying “All things considered, I wish your breasts were bigger.” Common sense - and a recognition that style and flesh are not synonymous — ought to make that distinction clear.
As it turns out, my wife really doesn’t like tattoos. When we started dating in 2002, I already had five and was considering more. While she didn’t recoil in disgust at the indelible ink on my arm, neck, back, and pelvis she wasn’t hesitant to say that all things considered, she disliked any kind of permanent body adornment. I have sometimes thought I might like to get more tattoos, but have happily agreed to refrain. She doesn’t ask me to get those I already have removed (given my skin type, bad scarring would be certain); I don’t get any new ones. She sees my body naked every day, and she’s got a right to express an aesthetic preference about my skin, just as I have a right to express one about the length of her hair.
I like denim. I have various pairs of jeans in the closet, and they come in varying fits. Some of them are tighter than others, I realize. My very outspoken wife has never said — and would, I think, never dream of saying: “Hugo, I’d rather you not wear those jeans because people are going to stare at your crotch.” She will say, on occasion, “Love, this is not a ‘jeans occasion’ we’re going to; put on some nice trousers instead.” My wife is not interested in policing whatever feeble “sexiness quotient” gets put out by my various outfits, but she is going to weigh in when it seems a fashion choice I’ve made is out of keeping with the expectations for a particular event we’re atttending. She’ll speak out against tuxedos to the beach and cargo shorts to the opera, but she’s not going to police my pants anymore than I would dream of policing her cleavage.
Like many married couples, we ask each other all sorts of small questions about taste and style while packing for a trip or getting dressed for an evening out. I have opinions about my wife’s outfits and jewelry; she has thoughts on my shirt/tie combinations and so forth. We’ve not only earned the right to make the comments we make, we’ve also earned the right to expect that our preferences will be heard — though not necessarily obeyed. We both like to “push the envelope” at times (I’ve been known to take her colorful pashminas and scarves and use them as “man wraps” on elegant and chilly evenings out.) We’re a team, she and I, and while in the end, we always respect the other’s sartorial decisions, we’ve each come to trust the other’s tastes and advice.
My wife has superb taste. But I haven’t always dated women so blessed with a good aesthetic sense. I once had a girlfriend who had a distinct dislike for deodorant or perfumes of any kind. An athletic person, by the end of most days she had a clear body odor apparent to those within five feet of her. She bathed daily, but her “personal scent” was strong on warm days. I liked it, as I was attracted to her. I knew that mine was probably a minority opinion, however, So I did, eventually, say something gently to her, before she met my father and step-mother for the first time. I didn’t tell her she had to put on deodorant. I didn’t make masking her (to, me intoxicating, to others, off-putting) scent a pre-condition of meeting my family. But I did tell her, gently and candidly, how my family might feel. I noted that I would have said the same thing to her if she were in the habit of wearing overpowering perfume. I had earned the right to speak to her, and she knew I wasn’t trying to control her — just expressing an honest concern. She went off to the store, bought some natural deodorizing crystals, and was a model of modern American odorlessness by the time she met my family. On our casual days together, she remained blissfully unguarded. I was grateful for her willingness to adapt temporarily to a specific cultural preference.
If I came from a conservative family in which short skirts were frowned upon, I would share that information with a girlfriend before bringing her home to meet the clan. I wouldn’t make modesty a pre-condition, however. I would also distinguish — and this is crucial — between a temporary change in style out of deference to folks from another culture and a permanent change in style to accomodate a jealous or anxious romantic partner. There is a whopping difference between saying “Honey, I’d rather you not wear a vinyl mini-skirt to Thanksgiving dinner as it just ‘isn’t done’ in my family” and saying “I want you to stop wearing short skirts in public because I don’t want strange men looking at your legs when you go to work or school.” The former is about cultural propriety, the latter is about personal insecurity and sexual control. Sometimes, the line can be a bit fuzzier than this, but if the person making the request is rigorously honest about his or her own motives, we’re getting somewhere.
Thoughts?
I’ve never understood the old “Do I look fat in this?” joke - if something I’m wearing does make me look bad, I’d like to know it before I leave the house. I’m perfectly happy to blame the outfit instead of myself.
Funny about the hair issue–I have long blonde hair. My husband likes it long, and as it’s my big vanity piece, I do too (it’s thick, wavy and is naturally blonde, which is a rarity these days). I have cut it shorter, to around chin length (it was this length when we met), but because of his approval and my personal vanity, I generally keep it around the shoulder blades (it also stays in a pony tail that is handy for running etc.) However, he hates twin sets, and I love them, and while I know that he doesn’t find them attractive/sexy, I find them handy/practical and continue to buy them in all colours & fabrics (living in a colder climate means lots of cashmere). So I suppose all relationships boil down to compromises and shared acceptance of certain quirks and likes.
I think you said exactly what I was trying to say in the jealousy/control thread - there’s a huge difference between what was going on in that post and requests for changes in specific circumstances in relationships where there is an atmosphere of respectful negotiation (that was a mouthful, I apologize).
I think one of the keys in the “expressing preferences” category is that the request/preference isn’t a dealbreaker - if your wife grows her hair long even after you’ve told her you prefer it short, you’re not going to leave her or pout about it. You haven’t made her short hair a condition of your happiness with her. And, if you’re mature and realize the world doesn’t revolve around you, you’re not going to take her growing her hair out as a sign that she doesn’t care about what you think.
Hm. Propriety vs. appropriation. Interesting and true and feasible in westernized cultural contexts. But what about burqas and the like? What about affirming a culture (even if only temporarily) that works to oppress women? What does compliance say about the asker/ askee in that case?
It is interesting that you posted this today. Yesterday, I attended my second personal training session. I asked my trainer, explicitly, for two things: I want to strengthen my upper body and the muscles around my ankles. Part of his job, though, is to recommend foods for me to eat and how many calories I should ingest everyday. I appreciate the information since I want to keep my body healthy and fit, but I also flat-out told him that I intentionally don’t count calories or weigh myself unless absolutely necessary. As we worked out, I was aware that many gym consultants play on women’s anxiety about their bodies in order to get business. Yesterday, I bluntly told him that I am not interested in losing twenty pounds over the course of the summer. (I weigh 124 pounds for goodness sakes!)
All of that made me think about my godmother, who struggles with weight loss. When she began to gain weight back in the 1999s, he never said anything, except, “Honey, you are gorgeous to me no matter how much you weigh, but I know that you are happier when you weigh less.” I thought that was a very thoughtful way to put it.
Oops. When I wrote “he” in my previous comment, I meant my godmother’s husband.
Interesting. I mostly agree with you, but I think that there’s another appropriate exception.
My boyfriend and I come from the same religious background and share a lot of the same beliefs regarding what is appropriate attire (and what is not.) For heavens’ sake, I own the same winter coat as his mama (in the same color, too! I’ve owned the coat for three years and have been dating the young man for 10 months, so it was just a coincidence.) He has several of the same Lands’ End buttondown shirts that my dad owns. Point being, our sense of appropriate dress is as similar as it’s going to get.
Because we have the same sense of the appropriate, I was receptive when he called me and mentioned that a dress featured in a picture on Facebook was perhaps too short to be worn with nothing on my legs. He wasn’t saying that my short skirt made me a “bad” person with “bad” values; he was saying that he wasn’t sure if I was aware quite how short the skirt was (or how it seemed in photographs.) I told him I’d take a look at the photos when I got home. I didn’t take them down because I thought he’d get jealous, but because he was right that they showed perhaps more than was appropriate for Facebook. And the next time I wore the dress, I wore it with skinny jeans, because apparently everything is Facebookable now, and because hey, my mom is my Facebook friend and so are several of my professional contacts. I wouldn’t have worn the dress (which was for a themed party) to work, so it wasn’t my contacts’ business, so no Facebook.
My point is, sometimes it’s okay to say “that may be a little too much leg.” It depends why it is being said, and I definitely think that it’s a conversation that needs to be had privately. You’re right that it’s not fair to say so out of jealousy, but in my case, my boyfriend wasn’t concerned with what other men and women saw. He was concerned that upon later review I might feel exposed, he was right, and I appreciated his concern–he had my back.
Marian, coming in the context it did, that made sense.
Charlotte, when it comes to compromises with cultures, there’s always a need to make choices. When my wife and I were in the Middle East and went to mosque, she covered her hair as requested with a scarf — a temporary concession to the place she was in. But those concessions need to be made carefully indeed. And I would have supported her wholeheartedly had she chosen not to do so (in which case we wouldn’t have been allowed in, but it was still her call to make, not mine.)
That mostly sounds about right, although I’m not 100% sure about the claim that hair is not part of the flesh. I did briefly have one boyfriend who was awful and controlling about my hair. While I was dating him, I began to realize how much time and effort I was putting into a feminine role that didn’t fulfill me, and a big part of that was maintaining long hair. (My natural texture does not lend itself to the “feminine and relatively straight” look without a lot of trouble.) This guy told me that I wouldn’t look attractive with short hair, and when I gave myself a buzz cut, he kind of pitched a fit. So what did he really like, me or my artificial, feminine hair? I’ve kept the buzz cut ever since, but now I have a more appreciative boyfriend.
Also, I’m kind of shocked at the enabling comments on the other thread: people think it’s OK to ask a significant other not to interact with any male co-workers in public? Maybe you can tell some fanciful story where that request is reasonable, but in reality it’s usually a huge red flag.
I’ve never understood the old “Do I look fat in this?” joke - if something I’m wearing does make me look bad, I’d like to know it before I leave the house.
Then you’re lucky to have never met someone who asks seemingly-open opinion questions while expecting a very specific response. They’re quite irritating.
All good observations here.
If you don’t mind, Hugo, I actually dealt with this topic a while back on my own blog - here’s the link, if you are interested on this particular woman’s opinion.
http://diaryofafreakmagnet.blogspot.com/2006/11/hunger-pains_09.html
P.S. If you’re not cool with people posting links, I won’t do it again. Just thought I could contribute to the conversation.
It’s a great link, Ginger, and I appreciate it — great insight.
And P. Burke, I ought to have been more precise about the hair issue. It’s one thing to express a preference, another to pitch a fit when a partner makes a different decision. And cutting off affection as a result of a grooming choice is absurd.
Hm. I still feel I have the right to be irritated if my SO turns up to a formal function with me in a crumpled suit, unironed shirt, and is less than immaculately clean. I don’t care if I’m not there, but somehow it feels it’s reflecting on me too if I’m standing there with him. I certainly don’t feel it’s my feminine duty to iron his clothes for him, so I think it’s more to do with feeling like we are one unit, and he is letting both of us down there. I realise though that this is not comfortably different from controlling the other on the grounds of modesty, so I’ll have to think about that.
Actually, I could imagine instances where unsolicited suggestions about hair could be touchy, too, even without the fit - consider, for instance, straightening hair, or possibly dying gray hair. Partly it’s a matter of how easy a thing is to do, partly of whether it carries a cultural charge (which weight, breast size, straightened hair, and aging all do, and getting a hair cut not so much).
On the “do I look fat in this?” joke - it’s true, you shouldn’t ask “do I look fat in this?” if you really don’t want “yes” to be an acceptable answer. On the other hand, if the question is “how do I look” or “how do I look in this,” and your answer to your SO is “fat,” then expect her to be pissed, because in that context, “fat” suggests, “you’d better lose a bunch of weight” rather than “try a different outfit.”
I’ve been trying to teach my husband a lovely phrase my mother taught me, “That cut isn’t very flattering on you.” The blame for the ill appearance falls on the cut of the garment, not on the garment wearer. Which usually is the case, in my experience. Finding the right fit can make all the difference in how well someone looks in a given outfit.
I hate having my mate lie about something at the point of purchase, and then make an offhand negative comment (it makes you look short) months later. If he had told me that at the time, I wouldn’t have spent the money on it!
This is my first time commenting on this blog, so I’ll say first that I really enjoy the topics you cover and, as a vegan and ardent feminist, am consistently in agreement with your perspectives. That goes for this post, too!
Last year, my (now ex-) boyfriend attempted to tell me tactfully that he found my hairy legs unattractive. I had ceased shaving them after we had been going out for a month or so and was really just starting to rebel (or starting to experiment with rebelling) against some feminine beauty requirements. Despite his tact and (as far as I could tell) genuine desire not to hurt my feelings, I was ashamed and embarrassed when he told me this–I felt as if I had taken a wrongful liberty with my appearance and was foolish to think unshaven legs might be acceptable. As this was before I had stumbled upon and embraced feminism, I shaved the very next shower and continued to shave regularly.
Having broken up with this person and having been single since last October, I’ve now grown all my hair back. If a boyfriend told me he found my hairy legs unattractive now, I’d definitely leave them as they are.
Unfortunately, although I feel comfortable with my body in its naturally hairy state, I am slightly more self-conscious now that it’s summer and I’m bearing them in public more often. I’m hoping that self-consciousness will fade in time!
Hahaha. I wonder if your wife knows how many students stare at your crotch when you wear certain jeans, especially the flared Diesels you wear every other week or so!
Hahaha. I wonder if your wife knows how many students stare at your crotch when you wear certain jeans, especially the flared Diesels you wear every other week or so!
This isn’t any different than a male student telling a female professor that everyone in the class stares at her breasts. I felt uncomfortable just reading that.
Somehow that one didn’t get stuck in moderation, B, and I’m just seeing it now — bleary-eyed. It is different in one sense in that we live in a culture in which women have been trained to be much more discreet and surreptitious about their gazing than men.
No more such comments in this thread, thanks.
Regarding the, “Do I look fat in this?” I think the speaker desires an honest answer, but offered in the spirit of kindness, NOT cruelty. They may also be looking for reassurance. What they don’t want is mean-spirited responses and then chastized with a, “Well you asked,” blaming the other person, not only for their cruelty but also for asking their opinion. Too often people mask anger under the guise of honesty. I agree with kate h and her mother’s approach sounds appropriate, honest and decent…
“That cut isn’t very flattering on you.” The blame for the ill appearance falls on the cut of the garment, not on the garment wearer.”
I’ve been around a lot of people who routinely make unsolicited comments. Many of them mask competition, jealousy and a host of other issues under the guise of teasing. If you’ve been the recipient of such behaviors, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that occasionally they may want reassurance or ask someone who they feel that they can trust how an outfit or color looks. A friend the other day inquired why I didn’t say anything about her haircut (when it was cut too short and was unflattering). Her hair had grown out and I told her that I preferred it better as it was softer and more flattering. She asked why I didn’t tell her that I didn’t like it. I responded that I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying it like that, as I thought it mean-spirited. Besides other issues she was going through were far more important to comment on than an unflattering haircut.
“Student’s” remark is disgusting and humiliating. You’re a professional professor lecturing on a variety of topics that make a lot of people feel uncomfortable (in ultimately good ways), and it’s a dishonor for him or her to comment on what you wear and what it reveals about you. I had your class and I never once looked away from your face because I was so wrapped up in what you were saying. Obviously, this person is too immature to deal with and take seriously the realities of what you teach.
Thank you, Hilary.
Regarding the, “Do I look fat in this?” I think the speaker desires an honest answer, but offered in the spirit of kindness, NOT cruelty.
Again, those aren’t the ones at whom the joke is aimed. It’s directed, rather, towards those who have already formed an opinion and ask the question to have that opinion validated, then become petulant or angry should they receive a different answer than desired. The actual opinion of the questioned is irrelevant.
I generally find nothing to disagree with here. Someone’s appearance as dealbreaker seems kind of silly to me. However, when it comes to an issue of a partner’s weight, I don’t think consideration is untirely unjustified, given a very specific condition, where a partner’s weight has fluctuated rapidly and their doctor has said that they should lose weight.
The distinction has less to do with being “thin” and everything to do with being “healthy,” though, and I know that body types and things of that nature are uncontrollable. The reason why I think a partner should assist another in such an endeavor (in a nice way, of course) is because we have to live with the results of healthy and unhealthy choices and habits our partners make, especially for those of us in for the long haul.
But that situation is, of course, rather specific.
Actually, the opinion is relevant. The problem is that the real question isn’t the one that’s being asked.
However, when it comes to an issue of a partner’s weight, I don’t think consideration is untirely unjustified, given a very specific condition, where a partner’s weight has fluctuated rapidly and their doctor has said that they should lose weight.
Actually, I’m in a situation somewhat close to that: 1) my husband is overweight (he agrees, and actually feels more strongly about the weight issue than I do), 2) he’s diabetic, and has been repeatedly encouraged by his doctors to lose weight, 3) not so much the rapid fluctuation, but one complicating factor - the weight is partly within his control, by diet and exercise, but partly not so much, since he’s required for other conditions to take meds of which weight gain is a side effect - he may never be able to manage to get within that actually desirable weight chart range.
How I handle that: I ask him what he wants in the way of encouragement, and if he says, nag me about exercise, I do. So I’ve nagged him about exercise, eaten a largely diabetic friendly diet myself (and lost weight on it, but all that weight within the “normal” part of the weight charts), and kept foods out of the house that he’d find too tempting, but I don’t directly nag him about the diet part - he doesn’t want that from me, it would make me too much like his mother, and the diabetes doctor sees him regularly anyway and asks her own questions. Nor do I directly monitor his weight; he does that, and goes over it with his doctors. I will, though, ask, say, if he wants potato chips, whether he wants me to measure them on our food scale, or whether he’ll figure himself how much he wants. And go with his decision, whatever it is.
Why I don’t supervise beyond what he asks: it isn’t actually possible to make another person eat better; even if he could completely regulate himself to a normal weight (not sure that’s possible, given multiple chronic conditions and med side effects), I couldn’t watch him all day. So, focusing on the encouragement the other person actually wants and will listen to is more effective (as well as nicer) than hovering.
Craig,
“It’s directed, rather, towards those who have already formed an opinion and ask the question to have that opinion validated, then become petulant or angry should they receive a different answer than desired. The actual opinion of the questioned is irrelevant.”
What is wrong with offering validation? People ask for validation all the time from each other and sometimes it is less obvious than other times. I fail to see, why in this circumstance how offering validation could not be beneficial. I disagree that the actual opinion of the questioned is irrelevant and agree with Mythago’s point above.