Of course the “state of nature” is not in any way reflective of any actual society’s adornment practices (that I know of). That’s why it’s the state of nature. I think jadebluestocking gets it right–in a state of nature, humans might very well choose to wear nothing at all. But I think it’s how we proceed from this baseline that’s important.

For the record, I wear the “appropriate clothing” to preach, for hospital visits, and for funerals and weddings (shirt and tie for the first two, suit for the latter two). It’s the day-to-day, at-the-office, meetings, etc. stuff where I try to challenge the norm. I’d never wear birkenstocks to the hospital, or sandals to a funeral.

But I would ask those who must just have those new pointy shoes: what will happen to those shoes in two seasons, when boxy toes are all the rage?

Well darling, those pointy toed beauties will fill the space in my shoe closet that currently holds my boxy toed shoes that are patiently waiting for their return to vogue. With fresh silica gel packs to keep out excess moisture, that fabulous footwear will again see the light of day.

kisses!

Why are humans like that? I have no idea. But it is clear that to be human is to be encultured, to live in a society with social forms that (on one level) are arbitrary and yet (on another level) establish the very possibility of human life. It seems weird to have to say this, but clothing is part of culture. So is language. So is religion. They’re symbolic systems that only work if they’re shared with other people. Bucking the whole symbol set completely doesn’t return you to a state of nature; it just frustrates communication.

No matter what you’re wearing, you’re communicating things to other people. It doesn’t matter how dressed up or dressed down: Other people are reading you. The upshot is: Know what you’re saying, and learn to say it with integrity. But don’t pretend that your choice is more natural than another. It’s not; it’s more likely just a code for “doesn’t care what people think.”

But, Reverend Blue Jeans, I think you miss the point. First of all, if you’re wearing Birkenstocks on hospital visits, those are $100 sandals right there. But more important than money is this: we dress up for those things that matter to us. It’s a way of showing respect. There’s nothing that says how expensive that dress-up is going to be. My farmer grandparents wore their “best dresses” to funerals and church because it was a way of marking the solemnity of the occasion. It’s a way of showing respect. In fact, I’ve done a lot of pulpit supply in economically poor churches and have found that, almost without exception, they dress up. They may be cheaply made dresses and suits, but they are their best and so they wear them. Even the teenagers in jeans are cleaned up so much as is possible within their means.

When you wear birks and jeans to the hospital, to me that says, “this is an errand I’m running, in between picking up some movies at Blockbuster and getting the tires rotated” rather than “This is important. I woke up today and thought about you.”

I’m not advocating that one has to go out and buy all new clothes to be clergy. But I do think that dressing up—whatever that means for your income level and the situation— is how we show that we care about something.

If I were the little old ladies, I would feel insulted by your comment. You’re not saying you can’t afford suits. You’re saying “I have them, but this situation is not important enough for me to wear them.” You can bet those same little old ladies probably wiggled into control top hose and tiptoed in heels to show that it was important to them. I’d recommend doing the same.

I love that I finally have a better haircut and a decent pair of pumps in which to enjoy the banter.

And you can sign me Henrietta.

Still, a central part of (my concept of) my ministry has to do with the notion of voluntary simplicity–the idea that one might choose to buy less, and more appropriately, in order to ease the burden on God’s creation of sustaining seven billion of us. It’s hard to see where a new Coach bag every season (or even a new Coach bag) fits into that framework.

I buy most of my clothing at thrift stores, even as I try to follow the tenets of well-dressed-ness. I am dubiously lucky to live in a part of the country where people give away clothing worn only once or twice. But I would ask those who must just have those new pointy shoes: what will happen to those shoes in two seasons, when boxy toes are all the rage?

I’m afraid I sound much too self-serious for the audience of PeaceBang, whom after all I adore. But it would do my heart good to hear PeaceBang proclaim from this, her virtual pulpit, that she will consider the resources that go into her next clothing purchase, and be aware of its cost in terms of human labor (what was its maker paid?), natural resources (what impact did its manufacture have on the earth?), and corporate policies (what actions will its profit go to support?) And if she then decides to buy that fabulous accessory, well, rock on.

What human in such a state of nature would choosse to wear any clothing at all? Isn’t naked a more natural and comfortable choice than any articles of clothing?

[For the record, I am absolutely not advocating naked as the default state of dress. It is much kinder for all involved if I indulge in the “discomfort” of a well-tailored skirt and blouse.]

i tend to range from one side of this issue to another…when i really try, i can be quite fabulous indeed (not for the sake of marking my socioeconomic statsus, but for the pure joy of being a woman), but have had to learn the value of “appropriate” fabulousness. when rev. blue jeans says ‘what does clothing have to do one way or another with God, etc”, there is a sense in which i want to say that we must offer Him our best - all ways in all things. and say what you will about outer trappings - i actually don’t know any preachers that wear ties anymore, except maybe for Christmas - if our genuine heart is pointed toward the poor and the marginalized, i think that is something that is identifiable regardless of our clothes. we have recently added a homeless & drifting contingent of folks to our church congregation, and they don’t seem to mind at all that a few of us are dressed in green shoes… they are welcomed with dignity and respect, and offered what everyone else who graces our door is offered.

i am tremendously enjoying reading this conversation - particularily, in the age where we are all in a hurry to be at odds with one another, the gentle and conversational spirit in which is it being expressed!