In the comment thread that evolved from an earlier blog post about head-covering, Grace made the point that ‘Plain’ seemed something of a misnomer: if one wished to live simply, surely the simple option would be to just go with straightforward hair.
I know what she means!!
The longing for Gospel simplicity has possessed my soul since my teenage years, and since I was in my twenties, Plain dress has been part of that.
I’ve dabbled in it, drawn back from it, plunged into it, scrambled out again, plucked up courage to do it, and given up, several times now. Given my parallel determination to avoid hoarded possessions (eg clothes I do not wear), the resulting switches of attire have been extremely expensive. Trying to find something ‘Plain enough’ that was not actually Plain dress has contributed towards the confusion and expense.
Coming back to it once more has a feeling of being tired now and wanting to go home.
All I know is, when I dress Plain I am at peace. When I say ‘Plain’ I mean my version of it – not strict Amish, but covered head, full skirts, modest sleeves and neckline, no jewellery or makeup, mainly solid colours, quiet colours.
I’ve had some searching conversations about it in the last weeks, and two particular questions have helped me very much in understanding the journey.
The first was from my patient husband, who desires with all his heart to be a ‘plain man’ – which is to say, honest, peaceable, frugal, faithful, reliable, kind, a good witness, a man of integrity, self-disciplined, prayerful and humble – but who feels no call whatsoever to dress Plain. To him, the way of simplicity includes thrift and restraint in clothes purchases – so he buys in charity shops and in the sales, wears out what he has, mends what he can, and is content with few garments in his closet. He likes it when I dress in pretty things – jewellery, make-up, bright colours, the feminine style normal to our culture, high heels etc. He likes my hair loose and wild. He is also respectful of my choices. And he wanted to know, simply: ‘Why?’ What is it about Plain dress that draws me?
Well, it isn’t something that I find easy to express in words. It’s at a deeper level that instinct or emotion. It’s at the level of my sense of self, at the level of the making. When I dress Plain, I become who I am; my soul finds the socket it was made to fit into. In Plain dress, I am peaceful.
Plain dress houses my soul, a bit like the seashell houses the hermit crab. I find the world difficult and frightening; I find engagement in the world wearing and exhausting. It is hard for me to find my way or figure out how to take part in the pattern/dance of life even to the minimal extent that ensures survival. When I dress Plain, I find myself in a sheltering and enclosing persona that allows me to make a way through.
It is also a withdrawal from the competitiveness that can be part of gender identity and relationship. It’s definitely anti-bimbo in terms of self-definition, a request to be related with on the basis of soul, who one is, rather than success or sexiness or a plethora of achievements (hair cut and coloured just right to a trendy style that suits one’s face shape and age group, lipstick that really lasts and bronzer/blusher in the right place on the cheeks, clothes elegant and stylish, heels one has mastered the art of walking in and… d’you know I actually can’t be bothered to go on thinking about this). When I put on Plain dress, I put down a network of tensions, put down the fear of ageing and the humiliation of weight gain, the feminine imperative to be ‘beautiful’ according to the definitions of the world.
Peace. Plain dress means peace to my soul. So that’s why.
The other question I’ve found helpful is Grace’s – isn’t it the antithesis of simple? After all, some people wear two hats at once, the kapp and the outer bonnet, and what could be plain or simple about that?
I gave this a lot of thought. If one really wished to arrive at plain and simple, wouldn’t jeans and T-shirt be the obvious route?
It took me a while to grope my way to what’s happening here with me. And then I managed to put my hand on it. For me, Plain dress is not primarily about being simple. It does simplify things in the long term – the high street shops become irrelevant, the clothes are comfy and practical and durable, there are no worries about changing fashions, and so on. But the central value of Plain dress for me is that it acts as a constant reminder. I am very aware of my attire. I notice what I am wearing. All day I can feel the head-covering. All day I notice the dress, the apron, whatever. If I go out anyplace, people look at me with curiosity (which I don’t like at all), intrigued by the fact that even in a multi-cultural society somehow I look different.
‘Plain,’ for me, is another term for ‘godly’. Plain dress is a constant silent reminder of what I have signed up for, what I aspire to, where I meant to be headed, who I wanted to be.
Quaker Jane posted today on Facebook about the Friends Tract Association article by Seth Hinshaw on Detraction – and I confess that no-one needs to read that tract more than I do. Dressing Plain takes me into the companionship of others who are serious about living their faith (not just singing about it and talking about it), who will remind me of what I well know and should put into practice better than I do. And when I go offline and am no longer in their company, no longer reading their words, my Plain dress stays with me, a quiet reminder that cannot be ignored, the knot in the hanky of my life that keeps me mindful of the person I mean to become.
That person is:
Cheerful
Kind
Gentle
Honest
Faithful
Steadfast
Humble
Generous
Patient
Diligent
Serious
Frugal
Mindful.
That person cares for the Earth and loves her neighbour. That person is a loving and cheerful wife, understanding and sweet-natured, encouraging to her family and a loyal friend, a good listener and a calm influence. That person puts her trust in Jesus and lives in the light of His Spirit and holds her own lantern steady amid the turbulent energies of Earth.
That’s why I want to wear it. That’s what it’s for.
It’s not to draw attention to myself or be holier-than-thou. It’s not because I espouse a doctrine saying women are born to servitude in the natural order of things, nor that men everywhere will be consumed by lust and lasciviousness if they catch a glimpse of my 53-year-old belly button or happen to see down my blouse to my bra (fat chance – though I do think that how one woman thinks it’s OK to dress is a step in the direction of how all women think it’s OK to dress, and that does have implications for modesty and gender relationships). It’s not because I’ve joined a strict, repressive sectarian cult and want to tell you if you’re mainstream you must be headed for Hell.
It’s just a reminder to me of the path I’m supposed to be on, and that is both a challenge and a shelter to my soul.
It is also (for me, not necessarily for thee) part of the Quiet Way, the path of simplicity, the road of blessing. It involves a de-cluttering of the soul, throwing some of the baggage that has been newly identified as trash overboard. The earrings and make-up have to go, it seems (so my heart says), but also the swearing and the detraction of others. That's a step further in the way of simplicity. It's adventuresome. And if I don't have some kind of constant reminder, I shall forget. I shall slip back. I know this from experience. I need my clothes to remind me - there is nothing/nobody else who will.
Plain dress is where I stop being lost and find myself re-centred in the presence of my Lord, and find my way back to who I am, where I came from, and where I’m going.