I just finished reading Jean Sasson's Princess: A True Story Behind the Veil in Saudi Arabia. I was very stunned when I closed the book. I almost didn't even want to close the book because if I did, then it would be like as if I was ignoring Sultana's pleads and message to the world about women rights abuse in Saudi Arabia. It was truly unbelievable and I do implore you to read it.
One of the things that interested me was Sultana's shopping trip to acquire her first veil and abayah (the long, black overcoat). Saudi women begin covering themselves when they receive their first period. Sultana was so defiant that she refused to tell her father about it and everyone around her kept it a secret. After several months, she was talked into it and get it over with. So she went shopping with three friends, including her father's newest wife (who was just a year younger than Sultana at tender age of 16). She entered in the store as a "child" and left as a "woman."
Sultana was amazed at her transformation. She thought wearing a veil and abaya was oppressive to women. But when she put them on, she felt a sense of freedom. And a bit sexy because she would be teasing men with her shapeless outfit, leaving them to their imagination what her body might look like. She also felt protected as well. Soon, she came to accept these "oppressive" pieces as part of her life and abide by the Islamic laws. How she handled the veil and the veil's role in creating dynamics for the rest of the story were very interesting.
It really made me draw parallels with Orthodoxy. I looked to my experience. In Orthodoxy, while women do not wear veil, they cover most of their legs and arms. Married women are supposed to wear wigs or cover their hair for that hair is quite lustful. Sexy clothes are not encouraged so many were pretty plain clothes (which is why sometimes it sucks to shop in Jerusalem).
I donned long skirts and 3/4 sleeved tops in respect to my Orthodox hosts and the Western Wall. Quite reluctantly, because I felt it was all oppressive. Why should I not be able to show off my beautiful legs? And I was so short already and the long skirts made me feel even shorter. I grumbled inside and slouched my shoulders.
I soon began wearing my long skirts (and jeans!) on regular basis when I lived in Jerusalem because I was finding myself visiting the Old City quite often and walking through Orthodox neighborhoods by accident. At the same time, when I put on my shorter skirts, I felt something. Did I feel like a tourist for looking a bit out of place? That was my initial reaction. The flowing long skirts also felt more comfortable to wear in Israel's brutal summer heat. Maybe some comfort added the factor. I also became enamored by my roommate/friend Meredith's ability to find the most beautiful skirts (either in the US or Israel) and how she could pull off her modest outfits so gracefully (as a Mormon woman). I asked myself, was it possible to feel sexy and confident if I covered my legs? Meredith also had the most beautiful, long, red hair one could ever see and it was just enough to attract attention. I just sat there on Shabbat, in my long skirts, just wondering what to make of all this modesty.
The following summer, I threw on my long skirts with pride. Since I was living in Haifa, I only packed for what I needed in Jerusalem and wore my modest clothes there. No jeans. No short skirts. I noticed the transformation in my behavior and appearance and how others responded. I held my head high and walked tall. I felt no shame for that I didn't feel anyone staring at me for dressing inappropriately. I felt freedom in going anywhere in Jerusalem that I wanted, including the Muslim Quarter in the Old City. I felt that as long I chose the most beautiful skirts, I was sure to gain a different kind of attention. The kind of attention focusing on my good taste, pretty face, and intelligence.
I clearly felt a difference when I wandered about in Tel Aviv and Haifa in my shorts. Although I dressed like other young Israeli women, I felt a silent fear inside that I could be viewed in a different manner than in Jerusalem. I have, more than once, been offered smiles, free apples, and small talks by Israeli men (because I had terrific Israeli accent when speaking common phrases and numbers, no one suspected that I was an American).... because I was wearing my bikini trying to purchase a snack? I wanted to run back to the beach and lay my towel next to other women as to blend in. Still, was it because of the way I dressed? Or was it because of me as an American and American women having a notorious reputation among Israeli men? I had no idea so I focused on remaining quiet and speaking in Hebrew when possible. Or if I had to speak in English, I needed to demonstrate strong confidence and understanding of Israeli social norms.
Is dressing conservatively that terrible? One Jewish mother, a 1970's child, recently wrote a blog entry about her half-Muslim, half-Jewish daughter choosing to wear a hjiab in favor of modesty and respecting Allah. The question was- which was truly more sexually liberating and comfortable to wear, wearing modest clothes or a bikini? (Presumably that a woman can feel confident in both ways)
Even now, it's still not an easy answer because we live in a world that is still full of gender inequality. It is up to the women to balance that scale and in their clothing choices regardless of our religious and cultural backgrounds.
From what I can gather from Princess, women need to and should reveal their beautiful faces to men if men ever want to feel that love and see these black clad figures as breathing, living human beings, not just sexual toys. I should be very grateful that I belong to a religion and culture that don't blow things out of proportion as much as Islam in Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan. Even if we want to complain about "female oppression" in Orthodox communities, we need to stop and think twice. But we can flap our tongues about Orthodox women's poor taste in clothes.
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