I had just arrived for my second week of work at Funston’s Book and Bible store, removed my coat, gone to the washroom, greeted my boss, and served a couple of customers when my co-worker came up to me and excitedly asked, “ Well? What did he say?”
Having no idea what Brenda was talking about, I asked her back,
“Who and what are we talking about?”, glancing around the large but cozy Christian book store to see only a couple of customers quietly roaming around.
“Dave.” she responded, as if that was all the clarification I needed. But still clueless I made the statement, “Brenda, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Did Dave say he wanted to talk to me about something?”
Now Dave was the owner and manager of this store and, during the previous week that I had been learning the ropes, Dave had done a lot of talking as he explained to me the way he wanted things done. But he seemed pretty satisfied that I knew what I was doing and except for responding to my, “Good morning, Dave” he hadn’t said anything else to me that day so far.
But the moment Brenda added, “About your pants,” it all became clear to me.
It is a common belief among several Christian denominations that women should only wear a dress. No exception. I gathered Dave belonged to one of these denominations and would not be pleased with a female employee showing up in pants.
I responded to Brenda with understanding spreading over me, “Oh. Dave is one of those.”
“Yes he is.” Brenda confirmed flatly and then added, “When I first came here and wore pants he came down on me pretty hard and made sure I knew in no uncertain terms not to ever do it again.” She told me as she looked around conspiratorially to see if Dave was nearby.
“Well.” I continued, “I live too far away to do anything about it today, but I appreciate the heads up. I’ll brace myself for the encounter.”
At that point I had held several positions in offices, one of which was for a Christian ministry, spent five years at a Christian high school and had attended church for many years, so I felt pretty secure that I knew how to dress modestly and appropriately as a woman and a Christian. But, suddenly feeling self-conscious, I gave myself another look over.
My dark grey pants were what I would have called, “dress slacks”. They weren’t tight because I wanted to be comfortable and they had a pocket on each side so I could carry little things like tissues around the store as I worked or to stuff my hands in when I felt shy and didn’t know what to do with them. On top I wore a light woolen vest of deepest sky-blue which was loose but not baggy. Of a cut that would be comfortable and de-emphasize the fact that I was well-endowed, preferring that people (especially men-people) would notice my personality above my physical attributes. Under the vest that, may I be so bold to say brought out the blue-grey of my eyes, was a plain but very white and crisply ironed blouse. And over my heart was pinned a small gold cross and below that was my Funston’s tag that declared my enlightened and elite position of “Sales Representative”. On my feet were just plain, black pumps with a very low heel in direct response to the fact I was going to spend most of the next eight hours on my feet. In light of my reassessment I decided that there was nothing I could do or change of my attire at the moment and would just have to weather the storm as best as I could.
Now, depending on the level of your feminist beliefs, your reaction is running the gamut between “boring story” to swallowing your tongue because I didn’t immediately speed dial my lawyer. But as for me, I had no issue in capitulating to my bosses wishes in regards to this. I was secure in both my Christianity and womanhood, plus I had lots of dresses in my closet and (I’ve been told) “a nice turn of the ankle”. Which I later discovered was NOT referring to the fact I was prone to sprain them.
But as I went through my busy work day helping customers and discussing great Christian books and being reminded only periodically of the topic of my “pants” by my agitated co-worker, the topic was never mentioned. Ever. Not by my boss or anyone else for that matter.
Just as Brenda was leaving that day and asked one final time if Dave had ever “brought it up”, I felt bad for her and the slight injustice she had endured being reprimanded for something that had been overlooked in my case. In an attempt to make her feel better I said to her, “Maybe he was just busy today and will speak to me about it tomorrow?”
But as I said, Dave never did mention it to me in all the time I worked there. The very next day I wore a dress. And after some time passed and Dave still had not said anything to me, I figured it was not an oversight, but rather a decision he had made. And since my clothes budget was not infinite and my closet contained several nice pairs of dress pants (at least in my estimation), I resumed and continued to wear them to work.
However, never feeling good about a double-standard, even if I am the one benefiting from it, I thought more than once about the unfairness of letting me wear slacks but not Brenda. That is until I showed up that Saturday for work. Saturday was the only day of the week the store was open that Dave didn’t work a shift and on that day Brenda came to work to strike a blow for freedom by wearing pants. And it was obvious that’s exactly the attitude in which she wore them. In defiance and rebellion. But when I looked at her brownish, red rugby pants and her rather uh, rather, … um, uh … okay, … her rather hideously, ugly striped sweater, I came to understand why Dave would have had a “talk” with her about her style of dress/mode of attire at the store. In fact, when I came to know Dave better, I suspect instead of declaring her style to be “hideously ugly”, as an insensitive person would do, he may have just asked her to “come to work in a dress” and then use his denomination as a bit of a decoy in order not to hurt her feelings.
So what is my point? What is my life lesson?
I don’t actually have one. But this past week my cousin came to visit me and when she told me how she and her husband had just celebrated their 60th (Yes. SIXTIETH!) Wedding anniversary, I got her to tell me the story of how he “rolled up on her”. (That’s hip, young people talk for “courting”) I so deeply enjoyed relaxing and hearing her good story, I thought I would try sharing one of my own with you too in the hopes you would also “enjoy and relax”. Those two things were important before but they've become down-right essential now.
Thank you for visiting my online home. You are always welcome here and I hope you feel safe to relax and encouraged to be yourself.
And even though it is written in the right hand column of this blog's homepage, let me give you a more direct invitation to send me an email. Whether it's to make a comment, ask a question, submit something to be considered to be posted or just to say “Hello”, I do love hearing from you. And remember to put the word, “Blog” in the Subject Line so that I can easily find it.
Have a wonderful Sabbath (Saturday or Sunday) as we learn that when God asks us to do something, like obeying the Fourth Commandment, it is for OUR benefit and best because He loves and cares for us. Even more than we do for ourselves.
Our extraordinary, almighty God!
Love ALWAYS, Laura-Lee
Through the years I have become an "expert" on appropriate attire for Christian Women. I'd be happy to answer your fashion questions at any time. LL
