Last week, I left mass thinking "Man...I look like a Catholic hipster! All I need are my glasses..oh, wait.." and after grabbing my glasses from the bottom of my purse, set out to write my WIWS post.
But it didn't go as planned.
My monologue about embracing my inner hipster quickly turned into a rehash of the same modesty argument I've been stuck on for weeks. There was no way I could post it. I was frustrated, a bit angry to be honest, and face to face with the awareness that my idea of 'modest attire' changes with the situation. There isn't much of a difference between 'work wear modesty' and 'date wear modesty' (don't laugh-- I do have blouses I picked up in case I went out some evening. I just don't have the occasion to wear them, be it a night with friends, or an actual date). However, the definition of modesty changes greatly when I discuss modest dance attire.
|Hipster Catholic? or Catholic hipster?|
Side note: I'm finding that a number of the things I thought I had buried and walked away from are now coming back in full force.
And it's then that I'm led to the fork in the road. The one that stops me every time I purge material things from my life. If I'm convinced that the religious life is for me, then there are so many things I can get rid of: the few things I hold onto in case I get married...the cds and miscellany in the top of my closet meant for a time when I could turn the computer room into my own office... the sewing machine, sewing mags and patterns I've saved for when I started my own side business creating accessories.... The impractical (yet totally cute and crucial if I want to avoid hemming pants) selection of shoes that add just enough height to help me feel a bit more confident...
There are the clothes, the ideals, the plans for 'one day' were I to put my creativity to use and start helping others create a fun and modest wardrobe... essentially, to reanimate the dreams of my 9-year-old self and allow God to use them. And then there is the idea of becoming a Sister, which if I'm honest... doesn't hold my heart the way my buried dreams do.