A Modest Proposal

A great deal of writing has been done lately on modesty, especially for women. I have noticed that all the women I see discussing this topic are attractive by 21st century American standards. This has been true for the men as well. It’s possible that the appearance of those speaking and writing makes this topic feel alien to tomboys, contrarians, and people who do not feel they meet such a standard of beauty. I felt attractive for about 2 years in my twenties, but other than that have always believed myself to be ugly. That does not mean I cannot dress in an aesthetically appropriate and modest way. Perhaps this meditation can help others who feel as I.

My thoughts about clothing have not really evolved over the years so much as regularly been confronted. I learned to sew a complete outfit when I was 11 in 1976. I had helped my mother before that but only helped. The first fabric I picked out was a terrible cranberry double knit. I loved it and made a vested pants suit that I wore everywhere.

When I started high school in 1979, the preppy look was becoming popular. I thought the khaki, corduroy, and wools were beautiful, though it wasn’t really my style. Fitted stuff has never been my style as a hippie chick. I did dress like that sometimes because I was never completely comfortable in the ubiquitous jeans and t-shirt look. I find jeans neither comfortable nor flattering. They are intended as work clothes, not fashion statements despite the designer labels that began marketing them for unspeakable amounts of money in the 1980s. So, I would regularly choose other kinds of outfits. Even though people would make fun of my clothes, I was not fooled. They had been calling me fat and ugly my entire school life, so I knew that conforming in clothing would do nothing to assist me to avoid bullying. Even my family would consistently comment on how much bigger I was than my older sister and how much I looked like my overweight, bearded father: just what an adolescent girl wants to hear. I felt insecure about my appearance, but I have always tried not to let my insecurities run my life.

I liked the way the dresses I made fit me better than the flared pants that were popular then. Harem pants (that come up to the waist and do not have slits, of course!) were more flattering and more comfortable than jeans or khakis, yet they continued to feel not quite right when I wore them. That was one confrontation. I might want to wear things to please people I love, but if those clothes make me feel less than myself, it is probably best to find something else.

As I entered the work force and had children, I still found wearing dresses as part of my aesthetic was helpful in terms of feeling feminine. It’s easy when busy just to feel like a worker-bee, like a widget in a larger machine that is trying to chew us all up. I didn’t want that, and I didn’t want that for my children. That was a second confrontation. Standing out at work because of one’s clothes can be problematic. Yet, I was always dressed appropriately for the work I was doing.

The other thing I do not want for my children or myself is the unending parade of immodesty in our culture. Leggings are not pants. They are underwear. Men and women alike should wear shirts, and wear shirts that cover their midriffs. This is just appropriate. As far as I can tell yoga pants and baggy pants cinched around the buttocks flatter absolutely no one’s body. While Americans by and large worship at the shrine of comfort, it is better to consider what that comfort costs us and those around us. This was another confrontation. Especially when I was pregnant, I might want to just “run to the store” in some sweatpants, but what does that do? It makes me feel insecure about my appearance, and therefore more defensive. When I feel defensive, I am more likely to interpret other people’s behavior in a negative way, even though it is likely not intended.

When I became Catholic, I noticed some of faith-filled writers writing to lament the West’s shift away from modesty and beauty in clothing. It resonated with me, because I have always thought that beautiful fabric can make an enormous difference in the look of a final outfit. Sure, I often buy cheap fabric out of necessity, but I try to choose the best of the cheapest. Beautiful fabric made into a dress that flatters my current form may not be as comfortable as sweatpants, but in many ways, it is better than being merely comfortable. It reminds me of Whose I am, and that I am part of a community. As part of that community, I am responsible for not offending sensibilities or leading anyone away from the Truth. When a community seeks comfort more than virtue, it is a dying community.

So as my pants wore out, I replaced them with skirts and dresses. As I have aged my body has changed which has necessitated rethinking what is flattering and appropriate. It’s been a process, but in 2019 when my final pair of capris died, I replaced them with a dress I made and have not worn pants since. I sometimes feel like an ugly, sick old woman, but I am a woman, so I wear the finery according to my station: skirts, dresses, an apron for cooking, a veil at Mass.  

As I have discussed this issue with younger women, we notice that wearing dresses can make us feel vulnerable in some ways, but, of course, that is also true — we are vulnerable in some ways. So, I’ve also embraced letting my dresses remind me of my role in the world as a woman who needs protection and who must pray for the men around me to live up to that, especially when I’m in public and surrounded by men I don’t know. It has seemed to me that when I am dressed in a more feminine way they are more likely to treat me, not better exactly, but more in keeping with the proper order of the roles we occupy. They are more likely to hold doors for me and ask if I need help carrying heavy things. Men need worthy quests, and this basic chivalry is a good thing for all of us.

When I’m sick, when I’m tired, when I’m working out, or when I’m playing with my grandchildren, I have found that having a skirt on doesn’t interfere with anything I’m doing. For anyone – male or female – reading this who has felt a distance between themselves and the pretty people talking about modest and beautiful clothing, understand this: you are beautifully and wonderfully made in the image of God. Wear clothes that ennoble you and make you feel His love. For you it may be sun dresses, bow ties, or cardigans. For others it might be linen tunics or dashikis. Pick your style and wear it with humility and love in your heart for all of God’s creation, and people will see Him in you through your modesty.