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What To Wear For A Crisis

A loyal reader alerted me to a lesbian Episcopal blogger who writes about attending General Conference and struggling mightily with the issues around radical welcome.

Sister, PeaceBang is 100% with you in spirit. God grant you strength and heart.

This blogger describes coming back from plenary sessions and getting dressed in a pair of gym shorts, a Red Sox shirt, a Red Sox cap and a pair of PINK FLAMINGO flip-flops to go down and have a meal at the hotel bar.

Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.
I am still 100% with you in Spirit, sister, but not in style. It’s time for an intervention.

Let us pray:

Dear Lord,
The work You call us to is hard indeed, and takes us down many a painful path. When our hearts are laden with sorrow and our spirits cannot find You, let us remember that we are nevertheless agents of your love. Give us the strength to remember this wherever we go, even so humble a place as a hotel bar. And Lord, give us the strength to look the part– emissaries of grace, believers in beauty, people of dignity, representatives of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

What To Wear For a Crisis:

Perhaps a pair of nice, gently flared dark denim jeans or a comfortable skirt, some fashionable boots if you need to kick butt (or want to give the impression that you could if you needed to), a tailored, white blouse, and a BIG cross. Cheery lipstick, and no mascara. Don’t forget the white hankie in your pocket, and a packet of Kleenex in your purse.

Let us join in a responsive reading:

The only place that a clergyperson should ever wear sports regalia is while attending a game of that team.
All: We are believers in beauty.

The only place a clergyperson should ever wear pink flamingo flip-flops, if ever, is by the pool.
All: We are emissaries of grace.

The only place a clergyperson should ever wear gym shorts is at the gym.
All: We are dignified people.

This is the word of Truth. Thanks be to God.

Blogging Sister Friend, go in peace and sin no more.

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Comportment

When former Harvard President Lawrence Summers appeared at the Harvard Divinity School Convocation several years ago, he sat on the stage slumped way down in his chair with his legs sprawled apart. He looked like a disgruntled frat boy, but the fact that he was wearing academic regalia made him look like a particularly ill-mannered doofus.

I knew he was not long for his position, and I was right. His body language told me everything I needed to know about his inability to work respectfully and well with others, and to understand the concept of Occasion.

The way we sit is important, brothers and sisters. When you are in the pulpit or on the dais or at any public gathering, concern yourself not only with your attire but with your comportment.

There should be no slumping, and there should certainly not be any sprawling of legs or any other body parts.

In the pulpit, there should be no crossing of legs. Crossing of the ankles is fine. Crossing of the self is also fine.

Ministers should not fling themselves about. Unaware extravagance of movements indicates lack of boundaries and distracts greatly from one’s oratorical presence. I love labrador retrievers with all my heart, my dears. Just not in public religious leadership, no matter what Paul may have said in that part about “in Christ there is no east or west, or cat or dog.”

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Beauty is Relative… And Regional

Today I am wearing a white blouse with lovely detailing (set-in waist, thin, pretty lines of embroidered thread woven througought in slimming patterns), a lavender tulip skirt that flares at the knees, and 4″ cork sandals. Also beaded earrings.

In Massachusetts this is normal girlie get-up. It may be a bit froo-froo for clergy, but I had a hot lunch date today with my staff and I wanted to be cute for them. Thank you for asking: I did have a glass of champagne with my oysters. We have long, hard winters here in New England and when we finally get to sit outside in the harbor and look at the boats, we think it’s worth a 2-martini lunch. Which both my secretary and office manager did have.
Apple-tinis, bless their hearts.

Anyway, if I was living in Portland, Oregon or Berkeley, California, I would have more likely been wearing a denim skirt and a fleece pullover and some rubbery Keene sandals. And I would have been considered appropriately dressed. Because Outdoorsy Chic is very big on the Other Coast, and you can be clad in an outfit you bought entirely at Eastern Mountain Sports (EMS) and be assured you’ll fit into most gatherings.

(Or is it EMI? I feel like it’s EMI. Eastern Mountain … Indoors? No, that can’t be right. I’m sorry, I try not to associate any more than is absolutely necessary with businesses that encourage people to think that sleeping outdoors is a good idea).

Darling readers, you know how PeaceBang feels about camping gear passing for professional wear, even if she did succumb to a FMBT (Fleeting Moment of Bad Taste) and feature a lumberjack shirt on a recent post of casual-wear recommendations for men.

PeaceBang feels that ministry should come with as much flair and elegance as we can individually muster. If you live in Land of the Lumberjacks and snowshoe your way to pastoral calls, perhaps flannel plaid is just what you should be wearing. There is a regional element to all of this, of course.

However, do you remember in all those dear old “Little House on the Prairie” episodes when the pioneers would spend all week in their overalls and wide-brim hats, toiling in the fields (and Laura and Mary would bring them cool ginger water) and getting grimy in a kind of sexy, manly, Michael Landon-ish way? But then when they went to Meeting on Sunday they took their weekly bath and got all combed and shined up, and put on their stiff Sunday best (which in Laura’s case, meant bright blue hair ribbons on her pigtails)? And they looked kind of shiny and special, even if they weren’t terribly comfortable and certainly not fashionable?

I think we should be shiny and special in some secular equivalent of our Sunday best every day. We should communicate shiny Sunday specialness when we dress every day, to represent the blessing of the Sabbath spirit whenever we walk into a room or into the office.

I confess, PeaceBangers, that I attended a board meeting last night in a pair of striped casual cotton pants, black flat shoes, and a black Johnny-collar t-shirt. No earrings, even. For a board meeting, acceptable enough. But last night we added a surprise dinner for two of our departing members; one of whom was a brilliant and amazing chair of our board for the past two years. The way I feel about those two people, I should have been wearing a bugle-beaded gown and a tiara. They are that special. I should have dressed up more to honor them. If either of them read this, they would roar with laughter and give me big bear hugs.

But you know, with all the joy and pride I feel in my governing board, and how much I adore them and am grateful for them, I could have, you know, represented better.

I’ve gotten off topic, but now I’m all emotional. You can’t imagine how cute these people are. And the men were all wearing beautiful, crisp summer shirts in lovely colors — some with ties! — and every single one of them was ironed perfectly.
God, I’m going to cry.

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Snazzy Conference Babes

I attended the United Church of Christ Massachusetts conference gathering as a singer (“the entertainment”) this weekend and noticed an awful lot of people in Jesus Casual, as opposed to Business Casual. Sweet people, I know. It’s a weekend thing, you’re schlepping around a college campus, you want to be comfortable. But I still don’t think that “comfortable” warrants a faded T-shirt with some old Gaia graphic on the front, paired with cotton pull-on pants and sandals with fungus toes.
I thought I didn’t need to say this anymore. I thought we all agreed by now that there’s never any reason to wear shirts with kittens, bunnies or fluffy little birds on them. I thought you were going to empty your drawers of those and give them to — strike that. Don’t even give them away. Rip them up for rags.

After our evening concert I struck up a conversation with a very fashionable young woman and complimented her on her outfit. She was wearing a terrific, fitted black suit, very cute pointy flats, a great emerald colored sleeveless shirt with a little front bow detail, and she had great curly hair and a GREAT bag. She looked like a Somebody, and she is. She is in a position of leadership at the Massachusetts Council of Churches, and as are most women in religious leadership, just thrilled to talk about clothes and make-up with another woman.

I loved her observation that when a woman wears, say, MASCARA in the pulpit in some communities, she’ll get hit with something like, “How come you’re trying to be all sexy in the pulpit and everything?”

I have never in my life heard anything like that but I don’t doubt it goes on all the time. What I tend to get, by contrast, are concerned questions like, “Don’t you feel well?” or “You look so tired, is everything okay?” when I leave off the mascara and the rest of it. I say, “I’m FINE. This is my NATURAL BEAUTY. Aren’t you glad I don’t inflict my NATURAL BEAUY on you every day?” And they nod understandingly and wait patiently while I apply some lip gloss.

Being polished can be sexy, but that’s not the goal. The goal is to be as beautiful and vibrant a presence as we can be. That might mean a fresh-scrubbed face and a big smile, it might mean smoky eyeliner and big hair and a big smile, but it never means a kitten or puppy sweatshirt and a big smile. That is where PeaceBang draws the line.

Next posting: What Should Clergy Wear To The Wedding Rehearsal and Reception?

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Ready-To-Wear Cultural Assimilation

Sarah wrote this in the comments section of the last post:

“PB, Here’s a question I’ve been stewing over since reading this (and other recent) posts re: muumuus, caftans, Hawaiian Shirts, etc. I think a muumuu or Hawaiian shirt is great if you’re Hawaiian. Otherwise it has an inauthentic tinge to it. Clothes associated with a culture other than one’s own have the potential to look very out-of-place on one’s body. For me, this begs the question: What is “good etiquette” regarding wearing clothes associated with cultures and ethnicities other than one’s own? Like a white non-Latina non-Spanish speaking minister who wears a Guatemalan woven dress (and hasn’t been to Guatemala), or a non-Indian wearing a salwar khamise to a professional meeting. I think some issues that need to be taken into account are one’s relationship to a culture and the context in which the clothing item was received/acquired. Also, to be frank, whether the wearer is “posing”–trying to appropriate some of the “vibe” or stereotypes about a culture into their own vibe.Personally, I’ve sometimes felt like a poser when I’ve worn clothes associated with ethnicities other than my own (I can legitimately claim Jewish, Scottish, and English ethnic clothes. Yay for grandmotherly head scarves, riding pants, and tartans!) What do you and others think and feel about this issue?”

Dear Sarah,

PB just today bought an adorable scarf at an outlet store. As she tried it out in her hair, the lady at the cash register said, “Some people can pull that look off, but most people can’t. You can.” Quoth I, “Well, I come from a long line of babushka-wearing women from Eastern Europe so I come by it naturally.”

PeaceBang, you see, feels ethnic enough on her own without having to borrow other people’s ethnicities to give her some mojo.

I think you put it perfectly. Sometimes wearing clothing from another culture can be a compliment, a tribute, an expression of affinity (like when you just plain LOVE that dashiki and it feels it belongs on you). A lot of the time, however, people don ethnic garb with a smug preciousness as if to say, “Look at how down with the people I am in my little Guatamalan hat.”
When they do that, I want to pinch them. I think you’re right, Sarah. There’s a lot of “vibe appropriation” going on out there, and as much as I don’t want to live in a world of Eddie Bauer and Dockers, I also don’t want to go to another gathering of liberals and be treated to the self-satisfied mug of the old white guy in the kimono, if you know what I’m saying.

Dudes and dudesses, if you scored that Indian shirt while on tour with the Maharishi, okay. Props to you (mostly because you can still fit into it). But if you have no personal, experiential connection to the garb, or an ethical relationship to the people who would customarily wear that garb, please.
Give it a rest.