A world without fashion

Imagine life with just two kinds of clothes, work and play.  Two pairs of shoes, two belts, maybe two kinds of socks ... kind of like when we were children.

Everyone could wear pretty much the same kinds of clothes for work and travel and socializing regardless of the occasion.  It could be really simple and much less troublesome.

Early feminists spoke against the fashion culture. “It was associated with triviality, and blamed for confining women to frilly subjects instead of loftier matters. An interest in fashion was perceived as pandering to the male gaze.”

Women are still criticized for the time they spend on fashion and wardrobe.  It's suggested that women would come into their own in society if they quit focusing on being attractive.  Studies reveal that some women do indeed spend much of each day deciding what to wear and thinking wishfully about the couture they might accumulate.  Some women, but not all.

Why would a woman force herself to endure high-heeled shoes? Painful, harmful, and expensive, they deform the bone structure over time, yet she chooses to play the game.  And why would she allow a size zero model on the runway to set the standard for her own self image?  Is it just women?

Of course not. Men are aware of such things but perhaps they respond in more subtle ways.  'Dress for success' has its own set of rules from cuff and collar to manicure and accessory brand.

On the up-side, a portion of the adult population gives but little attention to fashion and style issues.  Their lives are full enough of things that actually deserve their attention. Somewhere along the way, they realized that their clothing had absolutely nothing to do with their worth or their benefit to others.

A successful businesswoman explained her choice of apparel as, "It needs only to not distract."  Another said a bit more firmly, "If they need me to dress to impress them, they don't get my attention."

A world without fashion ... "Would you find it liberating? Finally - never having to wonder what to wear because no one will care. People would see you for the person that you are and not dismiss you because they didn't like your shoes." 

An interesting note; we respect and admire people for their skill, their intellect, their courage and grace, their willingness and ability to serve. We don't admire them for their appearance.  At most, we're entertained or perhaps envious, but there's neither respect nor admiration involved.

We shouldn't expect the fashion/advertising industry to help us or our children think clearly or live a worthwhile life.  It should receive but little attention and no respect at all.  

From another perspective, the way we dress is a form

of nonverbal communication. We choose a particular message

we intend to convey, perhaps. But that's another subject entirely.

Scream

Many of us have yelled at our child.  Or partner.   We can say we haven't, perhaps, because our memory of it is only that we spoke with controlled force, with repressed anger.  The truth, however, is that the damage is done unless it's caught and corrected quickly.

Yelling and finger pointing -- all it conveys is an attempt to subordinate and reshape another, to put them in their place and force them to behave as though they submit to us.  That's all.  That's all the information and memory carried away from the encounter.  Whatever the issue was that triggered the encounter remains unaddressed and unresolved.

UNADDRESSED AND UNRESOLVED

Issues around which such tension might commonly rise include finance, schedule, and the kids.  It can spread to expectations, chores, to-do lists, promises made and forgotten, ad infinitum.  The common element in all is your anger.

There are some words that should never be spoken in anger, of course.  Beyond that simple constraint, there are also some things that should never be done.  Screaming at another in anger and perhaps frustration is equally if not more significant.  It conveys the willingness to do harm, to injure.

Escalation -- conversations and confrontations begin and ramp up.  That's the failure point.  Early on, the participants begin to add volume, facial expression, and gesture.  At this point, the relationship begins to weaken, to fracture.  And our target is wounded, much like in a fist fight.

If we immediately stop and apologize, genuinely confessing our error, we may be able to undo the harm.

If not, we build a wall behind which our target barricades their heart and soul.

We all have difficulty admitting our wrong thinking and actions, of course.  If there are issues, they should be resolved.  Confrontation is occasionally necessary whether problems are moral, ethical, or preferential.  It should in every case be gracious, bi-directionally open and informative, and reasonable.

And remember, the kids see and hear everything.  They read our non-verbal expression and body language as well.  That's how they learn.

Finding Purpose

Here's an enjoyable look at life and purpose that actually makes some practical sense.  If you have the luxury of choices along the way, here's what it might look like.

Some hard questions.
Am I doing what in my heart I love?
If not, am I close?  Are adjustments available?
Time for some changes?
Short term and long term, do I see some goals?

Thanks and a hat tip to Kenny Smith for pointing this one out.  He's a farmer/rancher sort of fellow.

Recent History, Bill Moyers

For a little perspective on how we've changed as a culture, this narrative reaches back to the early 20th century in the South when memories of the Civil War still touched the thinking of folks. Marshall, Texas, is home to Wiley College, a centerpiece in the Civil Rights Movement.

Transcript:

Hobart Key: I’ve often thought, you know, that I was lookin’ backwards through rose-colored glasses. But for good luck, when I was little, I kept a sort of a diary for part of it… and I …and I look back at that diary and the writing’s not too good, but it says just what I’m saying now …..

Bill Moyers:… in those days …

The Realization

The day comes for all of us when we realize ... we were wrong and we'd known it all along.  We'd always suspected there was something more, but we hoped it wouldn't be devastatingly bad.

So this precious young lady was making her way through the last weeks before giving birth to her first child.  She chatted with her baby there inside her and sang songs for both their sake.  It was a little scary for her and she worried sometimes about what her baby was going through.  The days passed, and her anticipation soared -- she found herself falling in love with the child she had yet to meet face to face.  When the day came, suddenly she was a mother with a newborn in her arms, and the love that had been stirring in her poured out like a river; she'd had no idea how deeply in love she was with this little person, this tiny center of her universe.  She was forever changed, irretrievably redefined by the life she'd brought into the world.

She bore two more children before ... 

Cecile Richards tells of her own abortion, “It was a decision my husband and I made. It was a personal decision. And we have three children that we adore and that are the center of my life. And we decided that was as big as our family needed to be. That was really the story. It wasn’t anything more dramatic than that." 

Planned Parenthood president Cecile Richards was asked, "When does life start? When does a human being become a human being?"

Richards replied, "Every woman has to make her own decision." 

Pressed again to say when she thinks life begins, she said, "I'm a mother of three children. For me, life began when I delivered them. They've probably been the most important thing in my life ever since. But that's my own personal decision, right?"

That's an interesting question. Does my preference determine when my child's life begins?

I don't think CEO Richards was completely truthful. I don't think she watched her belly in the weeks before delivery and thought of anything other than her living babies. As wiggling and heartbeat and hiccups and response to her voice were all obvious, she thought of her babies and called them by name. I suspect she knew the truth but for political reasons, she said otherwise. 

This is a troublesome and confused world.  

Elizabeth the Great

As I walked towards the schoolyard, I heard the crowd yelling.
“Go home! You do not belong here,” one woman yelled. The other
said with a furious face, “Do you want to get lynched? Burned?”

They told us to go home and get out of here, or get lynched. They
saw me and started chasing me. There was no room for me to
escape. I was surrounded. I was hit on the head by several
bottles and even rocks. I was so terrified I can’t talk. My
lips just froze and my eyes set to look straightforward. I was
unable to cry, unable to scream, and I regret my decision to
go to school. Never before I felt fear at this level.

Suddenly out of the blue, a nice old white woman came out
of the crowd. She held my hand and calms me down, whispering.
“Its okay darling, don’t be afraid. Lets try to walk towards the bus
stop right by the soccer field, and I’ll bring you home”

I skipped school for days.
I was traumatized and haunted by nightmares. ...
One day, an agent from the US marshal came to my house.  ...
They took me to school in their black cars, followed by several
 military jeeps with canons on the roof. For once, I felt safe.
 I was sure I’m going to school from that day onwards.

Elizabeth was met by an angry mob on her way to school.  It was 58 years ago today in 1957. Elizabeth Eckford was just 15 years old. 

Our Supreme Court had ruled that segregation was unconstitutional, but it was not a popular decision in southern states.  Elizabeth Eckford and eight other teenagers were the Little Rock Nine. They were to be the first black students to attend Little Rock Central High School after the court ruling.  Vicious opponents gathered at the school to challenge them and their decision.

The plan was for the nine students to enter the school together, but the meeting place was changed the night before and Eckford didn't get word of the change.  She arrived alone and was met by 400 angry white folks shouting threats and insults.  

The governor, Orval Faubus whom some of us remember with chagrin, had deployed the Arkansas National Guard around the school to keep the black students out.

Faced with armed soldiers and threats from the crowd, Eckford ran from the school grounds in tears.   So much for day one.

The city's Mayor, Woodrow Wilson Mann, asked President Eisenhower for federal troops to step in.  Eisenhower sent the Army 101st Airborne Division to Little Rock and took command of the Arkansas National Guard.  With the governor stymied for the moment, the Little Rock Nine started school at the end of September. Soldiers were deployed at the school for the entire year, yet many of the students were abused, including Eckford who at one point was pushed down the stairs.

Governor Faubus continued to fight integration.  The following year, he ordered Little Rock’s four high schools closed rather than allow it to continue. As a result, Eckford did not graduate from Central High but took correspondence courses to complete her requirements. She went on to college and received a BA in history from Central State University in Wilberforce, Ohio.

At just fifteen years old, Elizabeth and the others did their part to change things.  They did what was right, it had a price tag, and it wasn't over quickly.  Being the target of hate and malicious intent is devastating, and more so when you're a child and you're aggressively attacked by adults.  With extraordinary courage rarely seen at any age, young Elizabeth did her part for what was right.

On my short list of heroes, Elizabeth Eckford.

Also on the short list, Ruby and her family.

Three years later, Ruby Bridges fought the same battle in New Orleans.  Ruby’s family made the decision to stand up for their rights and enrolled Ruby into the first grade at an all white school. She would be the only black child there.  

Ruby arrived for her first day of school in the escort of four U.S federal marshals and to a threatening crowd of angry parents and teenagers. Ruby remembers thinking the crowd must have been for Mardi Gras. Furious parents took their children out of school claiming that they would not return until Ruby had left. It was a promise they kept. For that academic year, the school taught only five students, Ruby and four white kids.  Ruby was only 6 years old.

Imagine, if you will, the effect of such prejudice on both black and white children.   What might be happening in the mind of one of those little first graders whose parents, spewing their ignorance and bigotry, snatched them out of school.

Apparently, not every battle is for old warriors.

Today, economic inequality and unaddressed system failures are returning America's schools to virtually the same segregation we fought so hard to change.  Should the issue again be a priority?  Is the same courage still required?