Archive for the 'Clothing and Fashion' Category

Until Monday: short update

I’m resting at home, watching the Croatia-Turkey European football quarterfinal. It’s well over one hundred degrees outside, and I have no desire to blog or do much of anything other than do something I so rarely do, which is sit on a couch and be, for a short while, a vegetable.

Posting resumes Monday. Come on Croatia!

UPDATE: 24 hours later, I’m once again on the couch, enjoying two consecutive relatively leisurely days. That hasn’t happened in I don’t know how long, but I shan’t feel guilty. I need this down time. And my wife’s flight lands at LAX in a few hours.

One of my favorite “looks” for myself is a fitted, carefully tailored button-down shirt, tucked into khaki or navy-blue trousers, with the sleeves rolled tightly almost to the elbows. Thanks to Juergen Klinsmann, the former Germany skipper, I see that it’s become a nearly-universal style among coaches in this year’s Euro football tournament. I cannot take any credit, but I am glad this very smart look has spread about. My shirts tend to be pink or pale lavender, however, rather than the crisp white favored by the managers.

Hair length, skirt length, body odor and a bulge in the jeans: what we should and shouldn’t say to loved ones

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.” Continue reading ‘Hair length, skirt length, body odor and a bulge in the jeans: what we should and shouldn’t say to loved ones’

Nouns, not adjectives: Caroline Heldman and young women’s self-objectification

The new issue of Ms. Magazine hits the stands tomorrow. Of particular interest is an article by Caroline Heldman, assistant professor at nearby Occidental College: Out-of-Body Image: Self-objectification—seeing ourselves through others’ eyes—impairs women’s body image,mental health, motor skills and even sex lives. (It’s not available online; you will need to splurge for the magazine, which is well worth doing. A subscription is better. Ms., Bitch, and MakeShift are the three indispensables of feminist publishing.)

Heldman:

A steady diet of exploitative, sexually provocative depictions
of women feeds a poisonous trend in women’s and
girls’ perceptions of their bodies, one that has recently been
recognized by social scientists as self-objectification—
viewing one’s body as a sex object to be consumed by the
male gaze. Like W.e.b. DuBois’ famous description of the
experience of black Americans, self-objectification is a
state of “double consciousness…a sense of always looking
at one’s self through the eyes of others.”

In my work as a youth minister and as a women’s studies professor, I’ve seen this phenomenon grow seemingly worse in recent years. Paris Hilton’s remarks about sexualiy and her own self-objectification resonate; in 2005, she remarked that her titillating image is a product of her sexy sense of style, and in reality her boyfriends have commented on her less than rampant libido. She says, “I’m sexual in pictures and the way I dress and my whole image. But at home I’m really not like that. In other words, her sexuality is largely performative, almost entirely a response to an outsider’s gaze and not an expression of her own inner longing for anything other than validation. I’ve brought up this insight of Hilton’s with some of my students, and seen a variety of reactions, ranging from surpise to vigorous nods of recognition. Continue reading ‘Nouns, not adjectives: Caroline Heldman and young women’s self-objectification’

“Chivalry is deeply feminist”: butch-femme culture and a rethink on gender roles

Brownfemipower gets the hat tip and the curtsey for linking to this fascinating post at Sugarbutch Chronicles: Bringing Butch Back. It’s a succinct corrective to many of the received assumptions of Second-Wave feminism’s response to gender roles and chivalry:

Chivalry is deeply feminist to me. When in femmes, I expect femininity to be deliberate, done with the whole knowledge of the compulsory heteronormative restrictions which dictate that women must be and do certain things, particular that we must wear high heels, delicate cloth, restrictive clothing. Femininity is not made for comfort or movement, it is made to accentuate the sexualization of a woman’s body - and that’s why things like holding her doors open (so she doesn’t dirty her white gloves or expensive manicure), pulling her chair out (so she doesn’t have to awkwardly move a bulky piece of furniture, and risk getting it caught on her skirt or stockings and ripping something) or holding her coat (so she doesn’t have to reach around and risk ripping the tight seams in her shoulders or upper back) are necessary to me, as an acknowledgement of how restrictive femininity can be, and of how difficult it is to walk around the world in these clothes, as a celebration of the beauty of femininity on the body, and with deep respect for the courage to costume and perform femme to begin with.

Bold mine.

Most of the discussions about “chivalry” and “courtesy” in the feminist blogosphere are rooted in heterosexist assumptions. Virtually every feminist, early in his or her public “career” as a warrior for gender equality, gets involved in the “opening doors” and “paying for dinner” discussion. It’s remarkable how many young women, convinced that a fondness for playing traditional gender roles is at odds with egalitarian ideology, cite a fondness for “common courtesy” and “being treated like a lady” (or a “girl”, or a “woman”) as a primary reason for rejecting the feminist label. While few feminists claim that a straight woman’s conscious enjoyment of traditional gender roles automatically vitiates her feminism, most feel that it goes too far to claim the enthusiastic participation in “chivalry” as a genuinely “feminist choice.” Continue reading ‘“Chivalry is deeply feminist”: butch-femme culture and a rethink on gender roles’

A loyal wearer of the green

I’ve got a great many things to do this Saturday afternoon, but not so busy that I couldn’t go digging through my closet to make sure I had a green shirt to wear for teaching on Monday, St. Patrick’s Day.

There are very few annual holiday rituals with which I have always been consistent. I’ve decorated a Christmas tree almost every year in my memory, but I can recall one or two years where I missed out on that tradition. I’ve hid or hunted for eggs every Easter Sunday for perhaps 37 out of the last 40 years, but my memory tells me I didn’t have that chance in 1995, 1996, or 2000. And I’ve worn red or pink on the Fourth of July almost as consistently, but do remember being resplendent in blue seer-sucker in 1993 or ‘94.

Yet every single March 17 in my memory — which extends at least back to kindergarten 35 years ago — I’ve worn green. In elementary school and middle school, failing to wear green was an invitation to being pinched and pummeled. A few times, the green I wore was of the wrong hue; I learned as early as six or seven that the bullies reserved the right to make a final assessment about the sufficiency of the green in which I was clad. And, to be honest, I joined gleefully (and fairly gently) in the pinching of those who through forgetfulness or the desire for attention had nothing verdant upon them. Continue reading ‘A loyal wearer of the green’

“We love your look, but lose fifteen pounds”: of modeling contracts, feminist principles, and the elitist politics of personal purity: UPDATED

One of my students came to me yesterday with a question. “Carine” is twenty, and has already taken four of my classes here. She’s getting ready to transfer on to a four-year school, and she’s doing so — to my considerable delight — as a women’s studies major.

Carine is an independent student, and has lived on her own for several years. She’s entirely self-supporting, and her parents have contributed nothing towards her college education. (This is a very common story here.) She is taking a full load of classes, and working a great many shifts as a server in a West Los Angeles restaurant. Though the tips are good, she’s barely scraping by. Her twelve year-old Camry is on the verge of complete collapse. Something’s gotta give.

Since she was in high school, Carine has done a little bit of modeling here and there; it’s provided a little extra pocket money from time to time, nothing too significant. But now, with transfer looming and the economy hitting the restaurant business, she’s decided to investigate making her modeling more serious. She has the right look, and earlier this week, she met with one of the better-known agencies in town. They loved her face and her portfolio, and were quite willing to sign Carine to a “conditional” contract. The “conditions”: lose three inches off her hips and drop fifteen pounds off her already lanky frame. The agency would check in her with regularly to assess her “progress”; if she did as she was asked, she could be assured of steady work. There’s no question that taking this contract would make a huge difference to Carine. It will enable her to transfer, to stay on course for her degree (in women’s studies, heaven be praised), to remain independent.

Carine is a self-described “staunch feminist”. She took my women’s studies class and was hooked; she regularly e-mails me for “more books, please!” I send her reading suggestions at a staggering rate, and she ploughs through them just as fast. And Carine, like so many young feminists I’ve known, was worried about whether taking this contract would compromise those infamous “feminist credentials.” She said something like: “I know the fashion industry sends a lot of destructive messages to women. If I lose this weight, do I become part of that destructive message? Am I hurting other women as well as myself?” Continue reading ‘“We love your look, but lose fifteen pounds”: of modeling contracts, feminist principles, and the elitist politics of personal purity: UPDATED’

The next right thing? Pink.

If the first post of the day was on the theme of “doing the next right thing”, the second deals with a small practical tip from Jeff at Feminist Allies: What Men Can Do: Resist Gender Essentialism (with Accessories!) Jeff was inspired by Melissa’s remark, regarding the seemingly never-ending struggle for gender justice: All I ever do is try to empty the sea with this teaspoon; all I can do is keep trying to empty the sea with this teaspoon.

One of Jeff’s “teaspoons” is his phone:

And it got me to thinking about one of the themes of feminism for me:Small Daily Acts of Feminism. I tend to think that (1)The ‘little’ things are often only seemingly little and (2)Lots of (seemingly) little things add up. Take, for instance, my little pink phone.

Jeff has a picture of his little pink phone.

I’m with Jeff wholeheartedly here. No, Jeff’s pink phone isn’t going to save the world. But as he does point out, it does start a lot of conversations where good can happen. I don’t have a pink phone, but as anyone who looks through my Flickr or Facebook albums can attest, I wear a lot of pink shirts. And I wince when I hear people say things like “Real Men Wear Pink”; I prefer “pink is for everyone”. A willingness to subvert common assumptions about gender is always helpful, especially when that subversion is simple and elegant.

Hurrah for pink on all of us. It’s one of my favorite colors (along with yellow, which I can’t wear), and it has been a staple of my wardrobe for a long time. My fondness for pink isn’t evidence of virtue — but if it inspires any reflection in anyone at all about gender essentialism, then it’s one more teaspoonful.

“Ginormous breasts” at the gym: a response to Isky about the male gaze and responsibility

My friend Isky sent me an email this week that revisits, yet again, the subject of women, clothing, and the male gaze. I asked him to look at the posts in the modesty category, particularly these (one, two, three) that summarize my views fairly well. Still, Isky seemed to want a specific reply to his situation. As the whole discussion may be triggering or repetitive for some, it’s below the fold. Continue reading ‘“Ginormous breasts” at the gym: a response to Isky about the male gaze and responsibility’

Student t-shirt update

Seen on student t-shirts just this morning:

“You’re better looking on Myspace”

“Thank you for last night. What’s your name?”

The student with the latter shirt carefully put on a sweater before coming up to me after class to talk. She might have been cold, but I doubt it.

Every dollar is a vote: some thoughts on fashion, veganism, and Kate Goldwater

That post about veganism and infant diets is coming. Just not this week.

I’m thinking about fashion this morning.

I’ve cared about clothes for as long as I can remember. One of my earliest memories of my father — before he and my mother divorced — was of watching him get dressed in the morning. Like many small boys, I idolized my daddy, and wanted to look just like him (I am pleased that with each passing year, the resemblance does seem to get stronger and stronger.) My Dad was never a clotheshorse, but he wasn’t a rumpled professor either. He did have some pretty splendid cardigan sweaters with elbow patches, and I do remember trying to fit into one when I was very small. It resembled a mumu on my tiny frame. (After my father died last year, my stepmother offered me some of his clothes. Alas, my Dad was all of 5′7″, and I’m 6′1″. Very little fit.)

In my high school years, fashion really started to matter. I was never happy staying with one particular clique; though I liked preppy fashion, I quickly tired of it. Honestly, in high school, I liked the cowboy look (very popular in my school) much better. Levis or Wranglers, often carefully pressed, with the obligatory Skoal ring on the back pocket. I soon found that cowboy boots didn’t mix well with my desire to walk everywhere.

In my adult life, I’ve gone through brief periods where I spent a fortune on clothes. I read GQ and W, and for a while, tithed my income to Bloomingdale’s. Becoming a serious Christian brought that portion of my life to an end, particularly when it became clear to me that God would rather I give 10% to building His Kingdom than to Neiman-Marcus. I still have a number of items in my wardrobe that I bought between 1996-1999, the years in which I spent the greatest amount of money on staying fashionable. If I spent that kind of money on these things, I’m going to wear them out.

Today, of course, I find that my fashion choices are increasingly limited by ethics. My goal is to buy sweatshop free, sustainably-produced clothing; I don’t want to buy any more clothing sourced from animals. (Farewell leather, farewell silk.) As I’ve written before, I’m still wearing old silk and leather products; I don’t intend to throw them away, as that would be wasteful. But as they wear out, they are being replaced. And trying to make buying decisions that honor both animals and human workers is, well, time-consuming and at times tiresome. But my wife and I have turned it into a game. We’re doing pretty well so far. (And thank God, there are so many excellent running shoes on the market that are made of synthetic rather than real leather.)

I’m thinking about all of this because of Jill’s post yesterday about her friend Kate Goldwater, who runs AuH2O (goldwater, get it?), an environmentally and socially conscious clothing company in New York. A lot of what Kate designs is recycled, which I really appreciate. And some of her men’s shirts (one in particular) really appeal to me.

Jill tells us about Kate’s two unsuccessful attempts to get on the hit show, Project Runway. Here’s Kate’s letter to the producers of PR. While there may have been other reasons not to take Kate, it’s fairly clear that her vision of careful hand-crafted fashion that is environmentally responsible was too disconcerting for the Project Runway folks to accept. Having Kate on Project Runway would be like having a strict vegan cooking on Top Chef; no matter how talented, a designer who refuses to use sweatshops and exploitatively sourced cotton would, like someone who cooked delicious meals without any animal products, stand as an obvious rebuke to those who produce their food and their fashion without regard for the impact on other living creatures and the earth.

I’ve given myself a three-year deadline to rotate all of the animal products out of my wardrobe. I want to know where every single pair of boxer briefs, each pair of socks, each shirt, each baseball cap was made — and by whom (I don’t need names, just working conditions). This will be tough sometimes; I often rent tuxedos, for example,and I may have to bite the bullet and find complete black-tie (and white-tie) outfits that I know were made by well-paid workers without the use of animal products. (And I haven’t yet seen the vegan version of patent leather tux shoes, but I’m sure they can be found.)

Is this Pharisaism? Is this an obsessive legalism? No. My grandfather always said “Every dollar you spend is a vote.” I remember that more and more now, as I gradually have more dollars to spend. Every time I pull out the credit card or pass over the bills and coins, I’m voting on what kind of world I want to live in. The fact that most of us can’t afford to live with radical purity doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be trying to move in the direction of greater justice, greater kindness with each dollar we spend and each bite we eat. When we support the Kate Goldwaters of the world, we match our language with our life choices, and when we match our language and life choices, we move closer to the Peaceable Kingdom.

This is the shirt Kate made that I want. And darn it, it was one-of-a-kind, and it’s gone now.

If we can’t get Kate Goldwater on Project Runway, can we at least have the designers who do get chosen asked to do at least one project that uses recycled, justly-sourced vegan materials? And can we get the folks on Top Chef to make one incredibly awesome vegan meal? Can we start a campaign to make it happen?

10.5 ounces of pure passion, pleasure, and pulchritude: a love story

Well, I’m officially, madly, intensely, laugh-out-loud in love.  We only met on Friday afternoon, and this morning, we had a three and a half hour, 19-mile date to the top of Mt. Wilson and back.  I woke up this morning well before dawn, gently kissed my sleeping wife goodbye, and ran off with my new lovers.  Well, to put it more accurately, I ran with my new lovers on.Tn628_3159m

I have spent years looking for a truly lightweight trail-running shoe.  I’ve dreamed and dreamed about a racing flat that can handle the dirt.  I don’t like to wear a shoe that weighs more than eleven ounces, and I am fortunate enough that my body can easily handle a light shoe that doesn’t offer a lot of cushioning or motion control.  I’ve spent years destroying my regular road shoes by taking them up in the mountains, through streams, over rocks.  I’m lucky if they last 250 miles in the backcountry, which meant a new pair of trainers every six weeks.  That gets expensive.  But I refused to wear the big, clunky, trail shoes.  They felt like combat boots.  So, I wasted money and fantasized about the perfect fit.

At last, at last, I’ve found the absolutely perfect shoe.  Ask anyone who runs seriously; the search for the dream shoe is an endless one (largely because manufacturers tend to discontinue one’s favorites every few years).    I wouldn’t accept advertising on this blog from most sources, but if Asics wants to advertise their gorgeous, perfect, incredibly sexy Gel Trail Attack IIs here at my eponymous site, I’ll let ‘em do it for free. (Yes, orange and blue shoes are sexy.  Ask my family and friends who went to the University of Virginia.)  In a decade or so of serious running, I have worn many brands and models, but I have never instantly bonded with a shoe as I have with the Trail Attacks.  I know that love at first sight isn’t supposed to happen to old married guys, but it has happened to me and I am deliriously happy.

I took four minutes off my best time, round trip, this morning.  Some of that credit goes to the training, some to the footwear.

If my wife would let me wear my new shoes to bed, I would.  Well, maybe not, but I’ll let them rest right beneath my bedside table where I can gaze at them fondly and pat them lovingly when she’s not looking.

“Tell Your Boyfriend I Said Thanks”: some thoughts on women’s t-shirts, class, competition, and sisterhood.

This summer, at least on the PCC campus, I’m seeing a tremendous revival of the vulgar t-shirt.  Many of my students have the most extraordinarily hostile –and occasionally funny — messages across their chests.

What bothers me most, however, are the ones that play on traditional female rivalries and anxieties.  "Tell Your Boyfriend I Said Thanks" read one I saw in the hall yesterday; "Tell Your Boyfriend to Stop Calling Me" read one from last week (on a different young woman, mind.)  T-shirts like these — and there are others — trouble me more than the ones that read "All American Bitch" or "So Many Men, So Little Time".  Displays of sexual bravado like these may be somewhat embarrassing and juvenile, but they aren’t designed to do damage to other women.

If there is one consistent lament I hear from the women in my feminist studies classes, it’s about the presence of intense competition in their lives.  Not academic competition, but sexualized competition.  As has often been noted here on this blog and elsewhere, this competitiveness on an "attractiveness market" is more intense in a community college with primarily lower middle class and working class students.  To generalize enormously, the less privileged the background, the more intense the sense of competition among young women.  Far too many young ones grow up with a sense that their sexual desirability is a more marketable commodity than their intellectual accomplishments; this is all the more likely to be true in families where there isn’t a history of women going to college.  (If you don’t believe me, visit any American community college on a hot day — and then visit an elite university in the same weather.  You’ll see more mini-skirts and heels in five minutes at Pasadena City College than you will in five hours at Berkeley or Stanford.  That’s anecdotal, sure, but don’t take my word for it — try it yourself.)  The bottom line: class and sexual competitiveness among women are, to say the least, not unrelated!

I realize it’s problematic for a fortyish man from a relatively privileged background to "tut-tut" with annoyance at the realities of the "attractiveness market" on which so many (but by no means all) of my young female students compete.  But as I’ve said over and over again, at least part of living a feminist life is learning not to see other women as rivals.  You can’t be committed to women’s liberation and see other attractive women as one’s enemies.   One of the sad fruits of a sexist culture is the sense of isolation that many women have from one another.  Internalized misogyny and competitiveness do not rest easy with a belief that women ought to be seen as complete human beings.

It’s unlikely, of course, that any young woman is going to be directly threatened by the "Tell Your Boyfriend I Said Thanks" shirt.   But it’s also equally unlikely that the shirt is intended to be interpreted ironically, as a wry commentary on the state of women’s competitiveness and anxiety.  The shirt makes a claim about the wearer and her desirability — and it suggests that attractiveness is a zero-sum game for women.  The sexier girl gets attention from other girls’ boyfriends.   Fear about playing that game — and losing at it — is a major factor in the lives of many of the young women with whom I work.

I’ve had four entries up in recent weeks on modesty, women’s dress, and male self-control. Having insisted six ways to Sunday that lust is always the problem of the luster, I stopped short of saying that we ought not ever consider others when we dress ourselves.  And yes, if what another woman wears makes you feel jealous and insecure, that’s as much your problem as it is for a man who is aroused by the same display.  But I draw a distinction between the accidental and the intentional.  A woman who is perceived as beautiful will be envied — and perhaps even disliked — by a few of her female peers regardless of what she wears.  That’s not her fault.  But if she wears a "Tell Your Boyfriend I Said Thanks" shirt , she’s being quite deliberate about her desire to elevate her own status in a mildly shocking but deeply competitive manner.  For that she is responsible, as in a small but significant way, she’s choosing to be actively hostile towards other women.

Let men learn to use the “will muscle”: some further thoughts on faith, sin, sex, and clothing

In the ongoing discussion about men, women, clothing, modesty and self-control, Camassia offers a fine contribution.  In the comments, a reader named Jose makes the case that while Christian men are responsible for controlling their lust, women do have an equivalent responsibility for what they wear and the reactions it may cause. Jose writes:

Improper or provocative attire is certainly a disruption and a distraction for which the tempter can and should be faulted. It can reach a point in which the priest or pastor should ask the tempter to leave the congregation.

I wrote in reply:

Jose, to dress provocatively with the intent of arousing lust is sinful, I’ll agree. But to dress without that desire, and then to become the object of lust from another, is not. If a woman wears what she finds comfortable, and ends up being the object of desire, she is entirely blameless. Now, IF the woman in front of me in church is consciously, actively, attempting to seduce the men in the pews around her, then of course she’s also at fault.

But that’s rarely the case, and we know it.

Jose came back:

There is intention and there is ignorance…. In spite of all the talk about increasing cultural sensitivity these days, too many people simply do not get it. They walk into a church with provocative dress and offer the unacceptable excuse that it was not their intention to provoke anyone. They imagine it’s the problem of the one provoked rather than the provocateur. As Chip Frontz says, both may have a problem, but it is the provocateur who incited it.

Now, if Jose comes over here, he’s welcome to provide a bible verse in support of what strikes me as an indefensible position. 

I do believe we are responsible for our intentions.  If I teach in tight, "sexy" clothing with the intention of distracting or arousing my students, I commit a sin as a Christian and an error as a teacher.  If a woman, putting together her outfit for church, says "I hope this causes Mr. Jones in the pew behind me to lust for me rather than his wife", then I’m happy to agree that she’s sinning.  As Christians, we ought not deliberately, consciously, and intentionally encourage sin in others.

I’m not trying to open the difficult theological question of whether ignorance is a sin.  But even if I grant that in some instances ignorance can be sinful, it is not "ignorance" for a woman to be unable to consider all of the possible ways in which a man might respond to her clothing.  She might be able to guess that wearing a bikini to church might not be appropriate, but what of Mr. Smith with his foot fetish, who will be transfixed by her feet in open-toed sandals? It’s absurd to accuse women of sinful ignorance for being unable to anticipate all of the possible reactions their sartorial choices may inspire!

To live in community is to recognize that the choices we make impact those around us.  We stop at red lights not because we want to, but because we acknowledge that others on the road have different agendas than our own and we need to honor them.   We all, Christian or not, ought to periodically stop and check our motives for most of the things we do!  I’m certainly all in favor of all of us becoming kinder, more thoughtful, and more responsible.

But there is a difference between taking into consideration the needs of others and taking responsibility for their reactions!   Perhaps we ought all to do the first, but not the second.  In the end, other adults are responsible for how they react to our dress and our bodies.  To say otherwise is to treat our brothers and sisters as infants.  To make women equally responsible for helping men avoid lust suggests that grown men are akin to children in need of guidance and protection from watchful mothers.  Telling women that "you ought to know what men will think when they see you in that" sends a disastrous message: women need to save men from themselves, because men lack the will, the self-control, and the maturity to avert their eyes and redirect their very thoughts.  Though many men have allowed their "self-control" to atrophy, the fact that the muscle is weak from disuse doesn’t mean it can’t be built back up. And if we insist that women do the spiritual "heavy lifting" for men by taking responsibility for men’s lusting, that "will muscle" will stay spindly and underdeveloped.

To borrow Jose’s language, to be a provocateur is a conscious and willful act. To allow oneself to be provoked is also, in the end, a conscious and willful act.   Deliberately attempting to provoke a married or otherwise committed person into lusting for you is, I think, genuine sin.  But dressing for comfort or for aesthetic enjoyment without the intent of seduction is not sin, regardless of how those who view you happen to respond. 

The real meaning of modesty: “coveting” and “kosmios”

Looks like another hot and humid day in Southern California.  I have the same classroom for all three of my summer courses, and it is exceedingly well air-conditioned.  Many of my poor students who dress for the heat end up shivering in the freon blast.  I’ve always suggested that they layer a down jacket over swimwear — the only way to be truly prepared for the unpredictable nature of our college’s ancient heating and cooling system.

I’m thinking more about modesty this morning.  I wrote about the topic last Thursday, primarily in response to the pastoral letter from the Catholic Bishop of Amarillo on women, dress, and attending mass.

I never finished the koine Greek classes I started, but I do know enough to know that the word the New Testament uses  that is usually translated as "modesty" is kosmios.  Kosmios generally means "orderly" or "proper", neither of which are helpful words in clarifying skirt length!  Given the subjectivity of what it is that different cultures and different individuals regard as "proper", it’s hard to find evidence anywhere in the New Testament that suggests a clear standard for how much skin women were to reveal.

But one aspect of modesty is well-covered (pun intended) in the New Testament: the importance of avoiding displays of wealth. In fact, the New Testament only explicitly defines immodesty not in terms of revealing flesh but in terms of ostentatious displays of property.

1 Timothy 2:9: I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes…

Gold, pearls, and expensive clothes are set up as the opposite of kosmios; the decency and propriety here is economic rather than sexual. 

1 Peter 3:3-4:  Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.

These are the two most explicit references to how women ought to dress in the entire New Testament.  In neither instance is there any evidence of concern with dress as a symbol of sexual impropriety.  In both cases, the emphasis is on avoiding crass displays of wealth — particularly gold and expensive outfits.

But Bishop Yanta didn’t preach a sermon based on the New Testament understanding of modesty. Had he done so, he would have found no support for his position in the use of the Greek kosmios.  What he did is what so many folks across the theological spectrum regularly do: he took a word that had one meaning in the first century A.D. and reconfigured it to fit his own contemporary political agenda.  I’ll be the first to admit that many of us on the religious left do this; we are as sure that we know what the bible means when it speaks of "justice" as the right is when the bible speaks of "modesty."  In many cases, we’re likely flat-out wrong.

It’s telling that most churches in America are so attentive to issues of sexual propriety and deliberately unconcerned with economic display.  Imagine if Bishop Yanta had had the courage to preach a truly biblical homily about modesty!  Building on 1 Timothy and 1 Peter, he could have asked his congregants not to wear gold, platinum, or diamond jewelry to Mass!  He could have preached against the sin of wearing designer labels, or of pulling into the church parking lot in a 7-series BMW.   Such a sermon would have been far more closely based on the original use of kosmios!

In the comments below last Thursday’s post, we’ve been debating back and forth as to whether or not women have a responsibility to dress themselves in a way that will "protect" men from lusting.  For both biblical and psychological reasons, I’ve argued "no".  But for the sake of discussion, let’s suppose I grant the conservative case that women are at least partially responsible for the lust their bodies arouse.  If that’s true, is not the well-dressed rich man equally responsible for the envy he arouses with his Rolex?

Bishop Yanta quoted the Commandment: "You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife". If you read his sermon, that’s the only kind of coveting he refers to.  But Exodus 20:17 reads:

You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

Bishop Yanta is engaged in the classic modern conservative mistake: elevating sexual sin to a level of greater concern than economic injustice.  The Commandment makes it clear that coveting one’s neighbor’s wealth (symbolized by house and donkey) is as great an offense to God as coveting his spouse.   In modern terms, there is no theological difference between staring longingly at someone’s jewelry or brand-new car and staring longingly at the exposed body of the woman in front of you at the altar rail.  Both are acts of coveting — but the good bishop, like most theological conservatives in this country, comes close to giving a free pass to those of us who want to indulge our materialist fantasies.   The longing for someone else’s body is labeled the sin of lust, while the longing for someone else’s car is refashioned (in the modern American heresy) into praiseworthy ambition!  That’s just rotten exegesis, Bishop Yanta.   If you’re going to preach on kosmios, know what the word means!  And if you’re going to preach on coveting, preach the entire commandment, my brother!

As some unknown wag put it, the great conservative American mistake is to suggest that "the sins of the pelvis are greater than the sins of the pocketbook."  But a close reading of either testament of Scripture suggests that our forefathers and foremothers in faith considered the display of wealth to be at least as egregious as the display of the body, if not more so.  And they considered the longing for material possessions to be as sinful as the longing for one’s neighbor’s partner.  Though a few churches (like the Mennonites) generally preach a holistic understanding of modesty, one that embraces both the sexual and the economic, too many leaders are like the bishop of Amarillo: obsessed with the thongs that creep up over the backsides and out of the low-rise jeans of young female parishioners, and blind to the watches and rings that adorn the fingers of their parents.

Biology and bladders, excuses and explanations: why I’m tired of hearing about testosterone

It’s blazingly hot.  After several weeks of light exercise as I coped with grief over Matilde and my father, I’m easing back into regular working out.  I’ve boxed and Pilate-ed today, and am ready for a long, steamy run up some local mountain tomorrow morning.  And somehow, I need to work in time to watch tennis, cycling, and World Cup.  Viva Italia and all that.

The comments below Wednesday’s post on the "sausage casing girls" article are revisiting familiar territory: the interplay of women’s dress and men’s "hardwiring".   "Perplexed", for example, writing about men’s ability to control the urge to stare at women’s bodies, says

I think it’s more about a hardwired response in men - it’s an arresting sight - something men are compelled to view, often against their better judgement.

Just yesterday, I was talking to one of the guys I know well at my boxing gym.  He’s just about my age, and is very, uh, single.  He’s fond of rhapsodizing about the virtues of promiscuity, repeating over and over again that it’s "natural" for a man to want many partners and to become dissatisfied with monogamy.  My boxer friend, like Perplexed and countless other folks, insists that male sexual behavior is rooted less in culture and more in biology.  Rarely do any of these fellows have a sophisticated understanding of physiology, but they often will make noises about testosterone, the Y chromosome or some other aspect of our DNA.  Regardless of the biological details they reference, the point is always the same: men are "hardwired" to stare, ogle, lust uncontrollably, cheat, what-have-you.  Call it the "all men are dogs" or the "I can’t help it, it’s my nature" excuse. 

I’m not a scientist.  I have only a college-educated layperson’s understanding of hormones and genetics.  But I have no intention in debating science with those whose understanding of the field is more sophisticated than my own.  I may have a hubristic streak, but I know my limits!  For the sake of discussion, I’ll concede that testosterone and the Y chromosome have a real impact on male sexual desire.  I won’t question the hard-wiring.

What I do question as a pro-feminist man is whether our "nature" is ever an excuse for poor behavior. It’s one thing to acknowledge the very real presence of physiological factors that influence our wants; another thing altogether to suggest that men have little or no control over how they respond to those influences!   What I find so exasperating is that so many men confuse an explanation for an excuse, denying their own ability (or that of the "average man") to resist and control those impulses.

I wasn’t born knowing how to control my bladder.  It’s natural for me to pee on myself whenever the need occurs; it’s what I did for the first two years of my life (and, intermittently, a bit beyond, but that’s another story!)  I drink lots and lots of caffeine these days; my bladder gets full quite often.  The urge to pee isn’t in my imagination — it’s a biological reality!  But from an early age, I was taught that there was an appropriate time, place, and manner for relieving myself.  As a child, I was taught that I could master the very real, very powerful, demands of my body.  I often go out to coffee with friends and colleagues, and sometimes they buy me very big ("Venti") drinks.  It is natural that within under an hour after consuming all that liquid, I need to pee very badly.  But it would be absurd if I blamed my friends, or Starbucks, for "making me need to pee";  I’d be laughed at if I wet myself and then claimed I had no control over my bladder.  I am convinced that when my commenters suggest that men "can’t help but stare" at a woman’s exposed breasts or legs or bottom, they’re making just as indefensible an argument.

In my avocational work with teen girls and boys in youth groups, I never, ever try and talk them out of the reality of sexual desire.  (Indeed, one important task of progressive youth work is acknowledging the biological reality of female lust, a subject that tends to unnerve a surprising number of young and not-so-young folks.)  I’m happy to have "my kids" share what they’ve learned in science classes about hormones and chromosomes and their influence in our lives.  Hear me on this, readers: a feminist theory of male accountability and an honest understanding of biology are not incompatible!  But once we affirm the very real power of human desire, we work to refute the myth that desire alone justifies action.  Even at sixteen, in the midst of the tempest of puberty, sexual self-control is as real a possibility for young men and women as control over urination.  The difference is that they’ve been taught from near-infancy that the latter is a biological impulse they can master, while far too many young boys are taught that it is women who are responsible for managing male desire.

It would be absurd to deny that many young men are aroused by the sight of an attractive woman wearing revealing clothing.  What pro-feminists deny is that women are somehow responsible for male arousal.  A girl in a mini-skirt is no more responsible for her classmate’s lust than the barista at Starbucks is for my full bladder!  I have as much control over where my eyes linger as I do over what I choose to drink; whatever physiological reactions I experience as the result of either activity (drinking coffee, ogling) are my responsibility and mine alone. While in other fora we can have long and interesting discussions about dress codes and "appropriateness", pro-feminist men ought to be adamant that whatever the imperious demands of our flesh, the human will is stronger still.