This is an uncomfortable conversation, so let’s all pour a cup of tea and sit in a cozy circle while PeaceBang tells you a story that we all need to hear.
Sometime this year (see how mysterious I’m being so you won’t be able to guess denomination or region?) I ran into a parish minister friend and colleague who moved a few years ago from a rural congregation to an affluent suburb. She was looking very put together and terrific and I commented on it. I was like, “Girl, you’ve really gotten spiffy! Love it!” We chatted casually about her outfit, glasses and other details of her appearance (I don’t know if she reads this blog but she knows that I write it), and then the conversation became more interesting and serious as she shared some of the intention behind her more professional look.
When our Newly Spiffed-Out Rev. was called to her new congregation, parishioners openly appreciated her professional appearance and commented on it. One parishioner memorably remarked, “I’m so glad you’re not one of those Earth-based ministers.”
OWWWCH. I consider myself a pretty Earth-based minister, and I resemble that remark! But this is why I’m always harping on the fact that we cannot allow our own personal preferences to dominate our choices without considering what they communicate in our specific ministerial context. To you or me, “Earth-based” might connote creative, feminist, earthy, beautiful, and womanly. But to this particular parishioner – and it turned out that this woman was far from alone in her assessment of the previous pastor, “Earth-based” was a polite euphemism for “crunchy granola unkempt hippie type.”
If we were all sitting around in one room with mugs of tea right now, this would be a great time to segue into a conversation about class issues in the ministry, and we could have a really amazing talk about that. I would allow that yes, the critical parishioners may likely have been exhibiting class prejudice in disapproving of “Earth-based” attire. Fair enough. But here’s the thing, kids: my colleague found out that her parishioners had been embarrassed to introduce their former pastor to people in the wider community. They had been embarrassed by her appearance at public events, and obviously did not feel that she appropriately represented their religious community.
Is this fair?
I think that it is perfectly fair for members of a church to expect their pastor to be someone whom they would not be ashamed to introduce to others in the community. We may want to talk about broader issues around class and compensation around this case study, but the bottom line is one of attentiveness and respect. It is our responsibility to pay attention to the sartorial norms and unspoken expectations of public leaders in our setting and to make an effort to spruce up to approximately that level.
I know that this kind of pressure terrifies some of you, and I don’t want you to feel that way. I remember being a dirt-poor recent seminary graduate who had a very hard first couple of years in the parish and who quickly outgrew the few professional wardrobe items I owned in seminary. I was very lucky in that I had a mom with great taste who sent me clothes or took me shopping when she came to visit (and who let me take pretty much anything I wanted from her closet when I visited her), and I know many of you are not so lucky. So, a few tips:
1. SO much better to have a few garments that are made well, fit well, and look good than a lot of options. There is no shame at all in repeating your outfits every day. Just cycle through what you have, keep everything clean and brushed, and wear it until it wears out.
2. Stick to a very simple palette like black, white and navy, or black, white and cerulean blue, or navy, white and taupe. Keep EVERYthing in that palette so that everything goes with everything else.
3. Choose your capsule wardrobe garments with incredible care. It is not at all neurotic to obsess about finding just the right pants or suit if you’re going to be wearing it every other day for the next year or two.
More or on the “Capsule Wardrobe” in a coming post!
In an early on-the-job training session, I got taken aside by a parishioner and told how glad she was that I wore makeup. There were two pastors at that church; the associate was a woman who wore no makeup and hated shopping, so she wore clothes until they wore out. I am not a clothes-horse; I hate shopping, too. And I hate taking the time to do hair and makeup every morning because I can think of about 90 bazillion things I would rather be doing. So I understood where she was coming from … but if even *I* at that stage in my life (when I was much worse about image projection than I am now) thought she looked like a slob, oy! But the incident made me very conscious of the need to wear at least a basic amount of makeup, do a basic amount of hair styling, and at the *very* least make sure your clothes have no holes, stains, worn spots, or wrinkles.
Of course, then I got the opposite at my next on-the-job training site. A lay employee took me aside to tell me I was dressing “too cute” and nobody would ever take me seriously. What was the specific outfit he was complaining about? A fairly boring knee-length skirt, a clerical shirt, and a fashionable blazer. (Most of the time this guy was great, but there was occasionally an undercurrent of “let’s be condescending to the little girl” Ugh. And it was only me; the business manager (a lay woman) had no problems with him that way.) [So much navigating to do! It’s just part of the deal, isn’t it. – PB]
PB, I am 100% in agreement with you on number two. My Sunday morning “uniform” is a black dress; weekdays in office: sweater-or-jacket/cami/black base.
The tailored black dress works well for me – no mix/match dilemmas on a busy Sunday morning, machine washable, accommodates my various health issues while looking professional, makes it easy to pick me out of the crowd during coffee hour, doesn’t mess with the line of my preaching robe.
But what to do about well-meaning parishioner who accosts me every Sunday with “you should wear some *color*!”? Continue attempting to smile graciously through gritted teeth? [That’s interesting. My thought about the persistent parishioner is that it’s probably worth asking her for more information. She may have some thoughtful input about your image that you hadn’t thought about (e.g., you look like you’re in mourning, or you look like a Quaker, etc.), or she might have a negative association with plain black dresses that would do her good to share. I would ask. I find it really interesting to find out why someone’s fixated on something. There’s usually something fascinating behind it, not that they’re trying to drive me crazy. Let us know what you find out! If she says, “Well, I just think you should,” then I think it’s perfectly fine to say something like, “Okay! I have forwarded your suggestion to the Management,” smile and leave it alone. Question: are you accessorizing? – PB]
Yes, indeed, I accessorize. Although it’s usually limited to one statement piece at a time – bright necklace or bracelet, earrings that pop, or scarf, with the rest downplayed.
Your point about what’s behind her fixation is well-taken. I shall have to do some investigating. She is the only person in the congregation who has made this point, and so it does seem to be specific to her. If she saw me during the week, she’d be privy to more color and pattern, but this is an almost-exclusively-Sunday contact, so she doesn’t get to see that. In her personal style is she is very much a bright color person, and she’s even gone so far as giving me colorful accessories as holiday gifts. After 3 years of this, you’d think she’d get the idea…
Thank you for the insights! [You’re so welcome! I’m wicked curious now, myself! – PB]
@tellthestories,
Are you below a certain age (the cutoff is admittedly imprecise)? This parishioner may be a lady like my mother who believes that young women shouldn’t wear black and old women shouldn’t wear white.
In my mother’s case, she was right about the black, but only because I’m a warm autumn, and it washed me out something awful.
Loris, I believe I am “below a certain age.” Old enough and young enough to have my only child in middle school. It’s an odd demographic…aging out of young clergy groups but clearly not of the clergy-as-traditionally-conceived cohort. I did have several years in as a nonprofit exec before ministry was a paying gig for me, so I’m used to moving in that space and aiming for the occasionally elusive sweet spot in the venn diagram of personal style/professional/age-appropriate.
All that is the long way of saying, “yes, I’m a relative young’un,” at least in ministry – but then again, the congregational commenter doesn’t have more than 10 years on me. I don’t *think* it’s that; but I could always be mistaken.
Well, I figured it was a long shot, but I hoped it could be something that simple.