|Waiting for the Rough Bus after a night on the Toon.|
Six years ago, I would have fired back, "Don't be silly, you 20-something whippersnapper. For good biological reasons, most of the young men around want to drag you off to their caves, and would if they could get away with it, or didn't fear God, etc., etc." However, internet porn apparently messes with male brains so much that the men cease to function normally as sexual subjects. The poor things actually stop being interested in the girls their grandfathers would have done their best to chat up and instead become psychologically fixated on ginormous fake boobs, etc. Sad, really.
So I have to concede my reader has a point there. Meanwhile, she was given a counter-argument by a priest who said that she should dress modestly not just to preserve the purity of men (which she quite cogently argues they are throwing away with both hands their very own selves) but for herself. She does not know what he means by this, but being over 40, I bet I do.
There is such a thing as dignity, and whereas a slim 24 year old girl can look like a nice girl in a micro-mini and black tights, 40+ Seraphic cannot. My town is crammed full of older women on the prowl, and I find them a little embarrassing, especially when they are drunk. It's not that they don't look good--they often look quite surprisingly good--it's the lack of dignity. Whatever age you are, you should dress with dignity.
Interestingly, guides on how to dress so that men will ask you do dance do not mention modesty at all and yet they are all about appropriate shoes, only one layer on top, covered backs and small jewellery. The swing guide even advises dressing vintage, which means wearing clothes, hairstyles and make-up of earlier (and more modest, incidentally) decades. All this is to show men who like to dance that you are serious about dancing and will be fun to dance with.
What looking like a stripper tells men is.... Well, I am not sure, but I am not sure it is good. And looking like a stripper is a a lot different from wearing the spaghetti strap top some modesty mavens get anxious about. Wearing a spaghetti strap top when you take a 32 B bra is quite a different thing from wearing a spaghetti strap top when you take a 40 DD, isn't it?
I suppose, if you are a Searching Single, social life may sometimes feel like a constant audition for a show called "Wife Material". Saint Augustine thought this a tremendously sad situation, and I must say I agree with him. It might be more helpful to think of it as a show called "Girl Next Door" because all the married women I know, aged 24 to 65, whether they were pretty or striking or merely belle-laides when they married, were all Girl Next Door types. (Hold the phone, one was an Exotic Sultry Temptress from Abroad with the Soul of a Girl Next Door. You know who you are!)
The bigger problem, of course, is that not as many men wish to be in the "Wife Material" show, for increasing numbers of men are utterly terrified of marriage. All the more reason, I think, to dress like the Girl Next Door because the Girl Next Door is [more likely to be] a loyal soul who would never have an affair with her salsa instructor and divorce her grieving husband after taking him to the cleaners and poisoning the minds of his children against him.
And now all my male readers have fainted, for I have typed out their worst fears in black and white. Oh, the humiliation of such a fate! In my mind's eye I can see them all shudder. Yes, women can be very wicked, very wicked indeed. We should strive not to be, and meanwhile we should stop going to modesty talks, unless to meet boys.
But is this wise? Ironically, there are fewer things more sexually arousing in Catholic circles than modesty talks. All that earnest discussion about uncovered female flesh when the boys are seated right next to soft-skinned, sweet-smelling, glowing young women with anxious questions. "Can I wear my skirt to here...? How about here...? And my neckline? Here....? How about here...?" (Male readers faint again.)
In short, I think it is outrageous that ordinary young Catholic women are made to feel terrible for wearing ordinary summer clothes when the real problem in society, which is having a devastating effect on the souls of men and on their families, is pr*n and pr*n-related businesses. If anything, ordinary young Catholic women should be warned against frumpiness instead. Let's dress like the heavenly-home heroines we aspire to be and give the hussies a run for their money.