Plain, though vain.

When I first wrote that piece that ended up on Martin's blog, I had just begun to toy with the idea of "Going Plain". I didn't really believe that I'd ever go the whole way with it. It seemed that the ideals of simplicity, social justice, and humility were good things to begin to introduce into my life in a real way, and that it was a good idea to start with my clothes, since I had noticed myself begin to get addicted to "effects" I could create with my wardrobe. But wearing anything resembling "plain clothing" I had major reservations against.

I have a weakness for historical reenactment and "Living History" that made me a prime suspect to myself of having my own less-than-pious reasons to dress "Like an Amish Girl." I'm also rather easily embarassed, and the thought of wearing what Friend Melynda called "Praire-Madonna-Drag" EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME seemed ridiculous.

I did the sensible thing and just got rid of my more outlandish clothes...
Then some more clothes that didn't fit...
Then some more clothes I didn't need...
And a few more I didn't need...
And just a few more...
And maybe just these last things...
and just this one last bit of stuff...
oh, and now there's so little in that dresser that if I get rid of just this little bit more, I won't need a dresser...

I found that getting rid of stuff was as habit forming as buying it. With every little cart of stuff I dropped off at the good Old Salvation army, the lighter I felt. Everytime I opened my closet, some other bit of clothing stared me down, asking me "Why are you keeping me? Huh? Huh? Why? Hmm?"

The trouble soon became not "what to give away" but "what to keep?"

I kept a few articles that were gifts from people I respect and admire, and a few things that if I "came to my senses" and changed my mind, that I would severely regret having given away. Maybe that means I'm not detached enough yet, but hey, I've got to meet myself where I'm at - and that's a challenge and responsibility all in itself. Coming up on my 22nd Birthday, (tomorrow! Whee!) I think I'm finally old and wiley enough to know that I can't fool myself for long about how certain or commited I am to anything. Nope, this was going to have to be on my "real self's" terms, not my "ideal self's". After all - isn't honesty about my true person the whole point of this daft exercise?

So what to keep. I'm still sort of itchy and wary of prescribed gender roles, identities, and all that baggage. And I have more faith in the ordinary man's ability to keep contol of himself in the presence of a lady's visible ankles than the average text on the importance of modesty.

But the truth is, I've always looked better in skirts (for what it's worth) and felt more comfortable in them, PC or no. Plus, it just seemed to be what the experiment called for. So I kept a pair of jeans for whenever they might be useful, and one long comfy denim skirt, which I'd bought from the Gap in college. (Lest any of you recoil at the phrase "denim skirt"it is not one of those hideous shapeless potato sacks with the patch pocket and little kick slit. It is cute. So say I.)

I decided to sew another skirt, just for the heck of it. I bought some brown wool on super deep discount ($2.00 a yard!!!!) and sewed up a skirt that turned out suprisingly decent, though anyone that sews even a bit could likely point out a dozen structural errors. Still, it works, it repells stains, and it looks fine with a sweater.

A voice kept whispering tome..."Cover thy head!"

It seemed ridiculous to me. I don't think it's necessary to cover your head for modesty, I think Paul can stuff it about women keeping quiet in church and veiling themselves, and I don't really believe in headship or submission either, by my own current Light.

There didn't seem any earthly (hmm) reason to do it, but I kept feeling like I should. Finally I said, " To heck with it!", bought a kerchief and started wearing it. To my shock and suprise, after a day or two, I didn't even notice it. It seemed the most natural thing in the world every morning to push my short bushy hair away from my face and stick a kerchief over it. I also realized how much angst I lost - and how much extra sleep I gained! My stupid bristly hair, too straight to be curly and too curly to be straight, and which can never make up its mind what colour it is, has always been a plauge. Any number of curling irons, straightening irons, blow-driers, hair pins, hair gels/waxes/mousess/pommades, and shockingly expensive hair cuts made no difference. It was always work, and always a point of insecurity. Now, I have so much more free "head space" because I'm not worrying about how my hair looks. Wonderful!

I've since switched to some little crochet caps because they are much neater and stay put with just a pin or two, no sliding aroud or coming loose. My friends are making "Quaker bonnet" jokes thick and fast - I may just get one. ;)

Well, no - a bonnet is still beyond me, sweet as they may be. I am thinking of switching to a cap, similar to the Mennonite and Amish, only from solid material, not opaque, and probably black. White is historical, and I like it, but it seems a bit ostentatious. I dunno.

I like my little crochet snoods, but I live in a heavily Hasidic area. I am constantly getting raised eyebrows and curious stares as members of the community try to figure out who I am. Several people have attempted conversations with me and looked incredulous/disgusted when they found out I was not Jewish. Although I take it as a compliment to be classed with these good people, confusion's never a good thing. If I wear a cap, more people will think I'm Amish, but it will be hitting nearer the mark, I think. I'm still thinking about it.

As for shoes, I've never been obsessed with them the way earthlings of my age and gender-persuasion are supposed to be. Still, I got rid of all but my best pair of high-heels (a gift...and also Just..in...Case) kept my favourite Chucks (Just...in...Case) and a pair of all-purpose black ankle boots. These are Vintage Payless, and falling apart. I am appalled by the disposable shoes I've been wearing and buying all my life from stores like Payless. They make your feet smell, they come unglued at awkward moments, they let the rain in, they only last about 4 months, at least when you're walking on concrete, and worst of all, no shoemaker can repair them. So I ordered a pair of leather boots online. I have never paid that much for shoes before, but I'm counting on these to last me four or five years, at least, which would bring the cost down to much less than I'd pay for three pairs of crap disposable shoes a year for the same amount of time. I figure that being well made, and leather, when a heel wears down, I can take them to a shoemaker and have them re-heeled, etc. We'll see.

In the Plain Experiment's present state, and in this culture of the exceptional being the rule, I'm not garnering too much weird attention. Fact is, I look as much like a slightly old-fashioned and nostalgic folk singer as anything else, and since that's pretty much what I am, I think I'm doing okay.

I had quite a bit of left over fabric, and as it's now winter and getting VERY COLD here in New York, I knew my newly-purged wardrobe was not going to be enough to keep me warm. I also discovered to my dismay that working in food service and only having two skirts, I needed an apron. So I went to an online supplier of plain clothes and ordered flannel underthings, a very simple dress to be made up of my left over wool, and...a black apron. I don't know when they'll arrive - I'm anxious for them...it is getting colder by the minute here it seems. Time will tell if I'm really going to be brave enough to wear the cape apron. It seems like a badge of Plainess with a capital P. Thing is, so has everything else I've sort of slipped into, and honestly, it's all been nearly effortless with just a few snags when I pass something delicious made out of green velvet (my red-headed weakness) in a shop window.

I've never been happier, I have to say. Not to sound like an evangelist, but I'm more at peace. I have found that people expect more from me when I am dressed this way, and as I'm an actress, bone-deep, I can't bear to disappoint my audience. Some would say this was dishonest, but I'm a great believer in fake-it-till-you-make-it. I am as a rule gentler and more thoughtful, and quieter (that was the biggest shock!)on a more regular basis than I have ever been before. I feel my headcovering, or I glance in a mirror, and suddenly I am compelled to keep my blazing temper down. I can't explain how or why exactly it works. Maybe it's a new sort of pride, but it's a useful one, so I won't complain.

I'm also keeping my room tidier than I ever have in my 22 years (except for paper. Damnit, I can't seem to be plain about these papery bits of my life..they are everywhere...) I never have to worry about what I'm wearing in the morning or if I look good enough to go somewhere. Since I have so few clothes, I have to make sure they are always presentable. I'm trying to embody that Jane Eyre ideal of Quakerness...

"having ascertained that I was myself in my usual Quaker trim, where there was nothing to retouch-- all being too close and plain, braided locks included, to admit of disarrangement"

However, by nature I'm a bit of a fly-about so I can't swear that someone happening upon me unexpecected would always find me in such a state. But then, we Quakers don't swear anyhow. :)

I still care about the way I look. Of course I do. I think it would be a fault not to. But I'm trying to make it my goal to be attractive, neat, simple, humble, and peaceful in my clothing, with the hopes that the rest of my life will slowly follow.