Recently, I had a video pop up in my YouTube feed about a young Christian woman who decided to wear only dresses for 30 days and document her journey. The title had included something to the effect of the process being “life-changing.” Of course, sucker that I am, I clicked. Since that video, YouTube has recommended many more of these videos to me–such goes the algorithm–and the claims have been similarly lofty. One woman spoke of how she was more submissive to her husband, another that her children displayed a greater respect for her, strangers were more friendly, men more chivalrous, etc., etc. Most of these videos came from Christian women who desired modesty and femininity amidst a world of promiscuity and androgyny. All right, I thought, I’ll bite. So I convinced a friend from church to commit to 30 days of dresses (and skirts). Here’s what I learned.
Turns out the experience was life-changing but not in the way you’d expect. A month of dresses was the practical reminder I needed of a spiritual reality. Instead of Snow White gracefully sweeping dust while frolicking with tuneful woodland creatures, I was more a disgruntled soot-stained Cinderella. Sure, I was wearing a dress, but it hadn’t done anything to change my outlook. At my worst, I was still grumbling about my chores and yelling at my kids to stop yelling. (Nothing like some good ol’ hypocrisy in parenting, right?) Because here’s the thing: all the external prettying up won’t beautify the inside. We should all instinctively know this, and as Christians, this sentiment should immediately bring to mind the pharisees who, despite their sparkly white-washed exteriors, were tombs full of death inside. Yet I fear many in church, and yes, even some in Reformed circles, are deeply confused on this point.
“Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) And yet how often do we judge someone’s spiritual state by vapid externals? Whether it’s the cleanliness of their home, the curb appeal of their front porch, how tidy the hair of their children, or yes, the way they dress, we pass all sorts of unbiblical judgments based on our own self-defined standards, standards that have nothing to do with Scripture but with our own preferences.
But shouldn’t we care about beauty? Isn’t that one of the transcendentals? Yes, we should value beauty, but beauty in a way that is life-giving and not merely superficially aesthetic. Take a sunrise. You’d be mistaken to believe that those visually appealing yellows, oranges, and reds comprise the whole of a sunrise’s beauty. No, the sunrise also signals the coming of the sun–its life-giving warmth and light, the nourishment of plants, animals, and man alike. On a deeper level, a sunrise can also point us to an eternal truth, that of the Risen Son (Malachi 4:2 comes to mind.) metaphorically, you might contrast this with a sunset, which contains all the perceived beauty of a sunrise but is accompanied by a descent into darkness. My brother (over at The Sibilant Sword) has defined beauty as that which anticipates the promise of eternal delight. I think it’s an apt definition when gauging which things are truly beautiful and which convey nothing but a false beauty, the promise of life but the hook of death. For example, sex within marriage is beautiful as it points to the consummation of Christ and His bride in glory. On the other hand, the fleeting pleasure of homosexual sex brings nothing but ugliness in its pursuit of death.
On a grand scale, we have succumbed to aesthetic confusion, believing the temporal and transitory beauties are what should be primarily pursued. Instead of cultivating a character consistent with the life-giving nature of true beauty, we desire only beauty’s shadow, not its substance. It’s in this way that we get arguments about the merits of stained glass while strife and division run rampant in the church, as if having the proper exterior will magically transform the ruins of spiritual devastation.
“Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.” -Proverbs 31:30
What does all this have to do with dresses? And should we then throw the dress out with the rest of the proverbial wardrobe? I think there’s an argument to be made for wearing dresses, but it’s not for the reasons we’ve been getting online. I alluded to the real reasons in the opening. It’s not to affect inward spiritual change or signal some superior Christian maturity. Instead, a Christian woman should desire modesty and femininity amidst a culture that is embracing promiscuity and androgyny. Does she need to wear a dress to achieve these ends? No, but she should be cognizant of how her attire and appearance convey the proper gender distinctions required by Scripture. A woman should not desire to look like a man, nor should she choose to use her body as an exhibition for the appeasement of men who are not her husband. Personally, I also think it’s good common sense for a woman to make an effort to look nice for her husband. It’s good for the marriage and for the continuing growth of the family, if you get my drift.
So what did I take away from my self-imposed tradwife challenge? Firstly, that external rites, rituals, and garb do nothing to improve your standing before Christ. I should not judge as man does, by outward appearance, but as God does. Next, I should not confuse false beauty for true beauty; coiffed Stepford wife severity doesn’t compare to the loving caress of a disheveled mother. Finally and practically, I should make more of an effort for my husband.
I’ll let my friend and co-participator in this challenge have the last word, and I quote: “I miss my pants.”
Bone of Bones 