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lillibetThis column in the LA Times details some of the experiences one of their reporters had while covering stories in Saudi Arabia. I've read a couple of books by women with similar stories to tell, but this is a nicely written piece.
She writes:
To me, the abaya implied that a woman's body is a distraction and an interruption, a thing that must be hidden from view lest it haul the society into vice and disarray. The simple act of wearing the robe implanted that self-consciousness by osmosis.
I'm reminded of a dream that I once had. I rarely have naked-in-public anxiety dreams and the few I've had all have some kind of twist. In this one, I was visiting an ex, shortly after our breakup, to pick something up. His new girlfriend was hovering in the background as he searched for whatever-it was, and he was leering and making sly comments about my breasts. I realized at that point that I wasn't wearing a shirt. Rather than feeling embarrassed by my nudity, I felt outraged that I couldn't wear whatever I felt like wearing, or not, without him taking it as a sexual come-on. Trust me, I thought, if I were interested in sex, you'd know it.
In the US, I try to be tolerant of other women's choices. Now there's a way to be, my mother will say, when she sees someone dressed in a manner she finds outrageous. Walking through the Cambridgeside Galleria, I see women whose clothing ranges from shorts and tube tops to headscarves and robes. I value the cultural diversity on display and I respect their right to wear whatever they feel comfortable wearing.
But I do find it hard not to take the decision to cover women's bodies to a greater degree than men's bodies as an accusation. If covering your hair is a sign of modesty, then what does that say about my waist-length braid, brazenly displayed? At the same time, is tucking in my shirt a judgment of women with proudly exposed bellybuttons? And to what degree are any of us actually free in our choices?
She writes:
To me, the abaya implied that a woman's body is a distraction and an interruption, a thing that must be hidden from view lest it haul the society into vice and disarray. The simple act of wearing the robe implanted that self-consciousness by osmosis.
I'm reminded of a dream that I once had. I rarely have naked-in-public anxiety dreams and the few I've had all have some kind of twist. In this one, I was visiting an ex, shortly after our breakup, to pick something up. His new girlfriend was hovering in the background as he searched for whatever-it was, and he was leering and making sly comments about my breasts. I realized at that point that I wasn't wearing a shirt. Rather than feeling embarrassed by my nudity, I felt outraged that I couldn't wear whatever I felt like wearing, or not, without him taking it as a sexual come-on. Trust me, I thought, if I were interested in sex, you'd know it.
In the US, I try to be tolerant of other women's choices. Now there's a way to be, my mother will say, when she sees someone dressed in a manner she finds outrageous. Walking through the Cambridgeside Galleria, I see women whose clothing ranges from shorts and tube tops to headscarves and robes. I value the cultural diversity on display and I respect their right to wear whatever they feel comfortable wearing.
But I do find it hard not to take the decision to cover women's bodies to a greater degree than men's bodies as an accusation. If covering your hair is a sign of modesty, then what does that say about my waist-length braid, brazenly displayed? At the same time, is tucking in my shirt a judgment of women with proudly exposed bellybuttons? And to what degree are any of us actually free in our choices?
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Date: 2007-06-06 06:08 pm (UTC)By which, I mean that I wear sunglasses. I do it a lot when I'm riding the bus, or when I'm first in line at a stoplight and there's a guy panhandling with a sign at the corner. It's a signal that says "Don't make eye contact, I don't want to talk to you;" it's a way of maintaining privacy while I'm in public. I've spoken to women in hijab who view it the same way, not as a covering for something shameful or tempting, but as a way to make a boundary between them and the public, a way to maintain independence.
Now, clearly that's coming from a deeply misogynist culture; if our culture didn't have the sense that a Woman in Public is Available for Public Discourse, I wouldn't have to wear the sunglasses on the bus, either. It's a sad thing that a woman would have to resort to the abaya or to hijab to communicate that, but I think it can be a statement of personal power in a repressive society.
Everything's context-dependent, too. I tuck in my shirt because I don't want people looking at my belly. I don't mind if people see my nipples when I'm feeding Lillian, even complete strangers, but I'd be mortified if someone saw them at the opera. Etc.
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Date: 2007-06-06 06:26 pm (UTC)If and only if they have the choice to wear it. If they have no choice or are in danger of being disapproved of/ostracised/shunned/beaten for choosing not to wear it, then there ain't no personal power there.
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Date: 2007-06-06 06:56 pm (UTC)