Wednesday, November 15, 2006

garments as symbol of adulthood

Garments mean many things to Mormons. One of the implicit symbols in garments is the rite of passage into adulthood. Mormons generally wear garments for the first time when they are about to go on a mission, or about to be married. Both mark significant moments in young Mormon's lives, and show with a physical object that they are now "one of us" and a full adult.

This rite of passage should be a marker of a personal and maturing relationship between the person and God, and some faithful Mormons would define it as such. This is comparable to many Muslim women's experience who, at some point in their youth or young adulthood, decide to don the veil to demonstrate their desire to follow God's will. Ideally, she is free to adopt the veil or not, and in many places, she is. But what if she doesn't veil? In some ways, she is, in effect, remaining in childhood. In some places, only little girls don't veil; women do. In a symbolic sense, she is refusing a rite of passage that would mark her as not only religious, but also as a mature adult. Hence, non-veiling Muslim women, Christians or Western tourists in a highly Muslim area may be implicitly considered non-adults, regardless of their age.

I suggest the same may be true with garments. Unlike the veil, the garments are meant to be hidden and private, and, like the veil, the spiritual act of wearing them is supposed to be intensely personal. However, there are plenty of opportunities when the fact of wearing garments becomes public, and therefore, a point on which to judge, among other things, Mormon's adulthood status.

While not as publicly visible as a veil, the garments are something of a public phenomenon among insiders, especially in Utah. Failing the garment-line test might simply mark someone as young. For example, young male BYU students who didn't demonstrate neckline “smiles” or knee-lines were dubbed pre-missionaries, or pre-mies for short. It was not lost on us that the nickname also referred to pre-mature infants. The pre-mies were either fair game for dating (for women who didn't want to find a marriage partner yet), or off-limits (for women who wanted to date only men who were of marriageable age and status). Pre-mies were not quite men.

Within the Mormon paradigm, failing the garment-line test, especially among adults out of the college years, also means something more than youthfulness. The only reason a Mormon 30-year old wouldn’t wear garments is lack of faithfulness to the church. Either she didn’t get her act together enough to go to the temple (a demonstration of immaturity), or, worse, she took her garments off (gasp!).

In Mormon-dom, children and youth don’t wear garments; adults do. Interpreted from a faithful Mormon viewpoint, taking off the garments can be considered a return to youth and immaturity. I am not arguing that it is the only interpretation. Indeed, the other connotations are undoubtedly stronger: unrighteousness, faithlessness, apostasy, covenant breaking, etc. I do suggest that because the act of donning the garments is a rite of passage into adulthood, the equally symbolic and significant act of removing the garments is rejecting that passage into adulthood.

This does not mean that people who remove their garments feel that they themselves are returning to youth, but that faithful Mormons may (subconsciously?) view them as doing so. For their part, ex-Mormons might feel they are rejecting the particular Mormon version of the rite of passage into adulthood. For them (for us), the act of removing garments marks our own version of a rite of passage into a new adulthood. One in which we can demand a more personal claim on our personal lives. We are, after all, talking about underwear.

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

I remember going prom dress shopping with my best girl friend in high school, her dad is a very well known general authority. She found a dress that she loved and was in her price range, but it was slightly off the shoulder. I told her "No problem, just wear a strapless bra with it!" and her response to me was "I won't wear anything that I couldn't wear with garments". She ended up buying it and her mom sewed material over the shoulder area. Heaven forbid she bare part of her shoulders even before getting endowed.

Sister Mary Lisa said...

Your writing is good. I never made it to the temple, and I wonder now if any of my friends judged me silently for this.

from the ashes said...

Sorry, SML. They did. Even if they were really cool, liberal, I betcha it at least crossed their minds. I'm glad they were polite enough to not saying anything out loud.

I never wore sleeveless until I was out of the church. Spaghetti strap was whoredom and no-shoulders would have been outer darkness in my family. And yet I wore shorts with 5-inch inseams. Hmm. What guy thinks upper arms are sexier than thighs?

from the ashes said...

Z- With the line "We are, after all, talking about underwear" was meant to point out how strange it is that Mormons place such significance on underwear. It is from a point of view of a non-Mormon. All non-(never)-Mormons I've discussed garments with see Mormons as downright silly for considering underwear "holy." To them, it's just underwear that a religion has strangely added significance to.

As you can see from the rest of the essay, I argue that the garments are deeply significant to Mormons. They are, indeed, much more than underwear. And while as an ex-Mormon, I'd like to say they are nothing more than underwear, they are so much more too. I said that removing garments is an "equally symbolic and significant act" as putting them on. I think they are, more than church attendance and following the word of wisdom, the most significant (physical/visible) marker of in versus out.

The veil is different, given that it is always visible. I started out with a veil comparison, but I didn't carry it all the way through to the end of the post. But you're right, I wouldn't say that, like garments, the veil is merely clothing. (But I might have said so had I never gone through the experience of veiling before.) And I probably wouldn't say that Zoroastrians' shirt and sash are just underwear, though they are worn under the clothes and hidden.

So why did I say that? Part of my derisive attitude towards Mormonism right now?

Anonymous said...

That's probably why so many of my VT's suggested I get endowed. They wanted me to become and adult!!

Very interesting essay! I really enjoy your writing!

Threads of the Divine said...

I enjoyed your post. Garments really are a right of passage. It's a status symbol. You know someone is serious or at the same level as you if they have garments. This extends to converts as well. The conversation about inactives will always start with, "Are they endowed?". New converts are treated a certain way until they are endowed as well. Once they've been to the Temple, it's time to step it up.

from the ashes said...

Good point, Simeon. Recent converts will always be pushed toward going to the temple, getting endowed. Though there are members who have no desire to get endowed, they are not fully accepted as "inner circle" people.

Anonymous said...

The decision to stop wearing garments, is truly just as significant as the decision once made to start wearing them. Personally, I think the more symbolic and sacred the garment was to an individual upon initial "dressing", the more decisive and permanent his/her decision to stop.

I went through the temple prior to going on a mission. I was 20, not married, and you know the drill: "I couldn't catch a husband." So, the decision for me was very well thought out, prayed about, and it was not a drastic change for me. Not drastic in the respect that it wasn't a difficult adjustment for me to switch out my underwear. A lot of friends complained about how constricted, and confining the garments were. But they meant so much to me, that I didn't give a lot of thought to the discomfort (ok, except for all the yeast infections I had when I wore them) until the day my divorce was final. I went to the store, bought a handful of thongs, and have not put on my garments since then.

I've known a lot of people who wore them half-assed. For me, I'm either in or I'm out. I guess the day I took them off, I snapped.

An old friend of mine and I were talking today, and she told me that I was Emma Smith. I did every single thing I could do. I served my callings, bore my fair share of children, devoted myself to husband and home. Asking me to continue in the church after all that happened was like asking Emma to go West. I've thought this to myself many times, but have never really verbalized it. One reason is because people in the church don't get it, no matter how much you try to explain it. Obviously, Emma Smith went through SO much more than I have, so I don't really feel like I can be in her league. I had a great respect for her as a Mormon, and now even more so as a jack-Mormon (I haven't been ex'd yet). I have absolutely nothing left to give to the church. It's not a cop-out, just raw honesty. They took it all, there's nothing left for me to give them. She was done, too. Perhaps enduring to the end means something different than we all originally thought.

from the ashes said...

Poker- I'm an in or out kind of person, too. And what an interesting comparison with Emma. I really need to go back and finish Mormon Enigma. When I read it, I was more interested in what I could find out about Joseph, so once he died, I lost interest in the book. But now I think I'd be more interested in Emma's "afterlife."

I mean, it's a big deal that the "prophet's" wife left. And married another guy, hah!

Rebecca said...

I think you're right that garments are a symbol of adulthood in Mormonism, but it gets to a point where even those garments are no match for the ultimate symbol: marriage (and after that, kids). I was 26 when I left the church, and unmarried, so although I was pushing it a little, I don't think anyone really thought much about it, or cared that I hadn't yet been endowed. I suppose it would have started soon, but I always said I wasn't ready for the committment of the temple, and since I'm pretty immature and kind of a "free spirit" (sarcastic), I think that would have worked for a few more years.

Anyway, the people I knew who were really treated like children (ie: stupid -- which is ridiculous considering children AREN'T stupid) were the unmarried women of "a certain age." I always hated the sexist nature of "The Church," but what really hit it home was when I was living in PA and there was a 40-something single woman in the ward. She and I were kind of friends, and she was this intelligent, good-looking woman with a great career. She had a PhD in chemisty (I think it was chemistry), owned a beautiful condo, and looked 10 years younger than she was. And the women in the ward treated her like a child. These women - who had next to no education, a zillion kids, and a subservient role in their marriages, talked down to HER. They were super NICE, but it was like (sugary, sing-songy voice), "Oh, Karen, that dress looks so NICE on you!"

Even garmentless, I was rarely treated like that. So, I guess what I'm saying is that I think the garment-free are treated as immature, whereas the never-been-married, childless women (doesn't apply to the men) are treated as CHILDREN.

That was way too long, wasn't it? Blah. Whatever.

from the ashes said...

Rebecca- I thought you sent your comment to me directly, so I replied directly.

You have a very good point. For women, at least, marriage and children are a far more powerful symbol than garments in judging adulthood. Career, independence? Whatever.

Trixie Granny said...

This reminds me of a few months ago when I was still living with my parents after moving in with them when I left my husband three years ago. I found myself in disbelief regarding the church and the first thing I wanted to do was ditch my saggy baggy underwear and sport some colorful, sexy, NORMAL underwear.

But I couldn't let my parnts know I was sneaking around changing out of them when I went out. And Heaven forbid they should find my lacy things in the laundry!

I have since moved out and I still havent decided how to dispose of them so they sit in a garbage bag on the floor of my closet.

I was concerned how my Mormon swing dancing friends would feel towards me when it became clear that I had ditched them but they still dance and talk with me so it must not trouble them too much.

You are right about it being like a new adulthood. I am learning to love my body and I like to show a little skin now and then. I even got brave and wore a sleeveless dress a few weeks ago. Besides that I get excited about shopping now. I used to have to pass up all the stylish shirts and dresses that didn't have sufficient sleevage or midriff coverage so that I didn't bare my sloppy underwear when I bent over.

Please excuse the rant. I'm a fashion major for goodness sakes, so I'm kinda passionate about it.

Anonymous said...

I began to wonder some time ago if the whole temple garments thing might not have started as a joke by Joseph Smith. "Yeah, Hyrum! Then we get them to sew magic Masonic symbols onto their underwear! What a hoot that'll be!"

from the ashes said...

trixie said, "I am learning to love my body and I like to show a little skin now and then." Isn't it great? I learned to love to feel a little sexy, flashing my midriff now and then.

Matt- That's hilarious!

Welcome, both of you.