– “Are you from Little House on the Prairie?”
– “What about yard work? Winter? You going to wear skirts and dresses then, too?”
– “Why don’t you just wear pants?”
Gentle reader, I have heard all of the above (and many more along the same vein) since I began wearing skirts and dresses exclusively five years ago. Far from being an oppressive tool of the patriarchy, I find wearing decidedly feminine clothing beautiful, comforting, and freeing.
Many like-minded women I’ve met share some of my reasons for adhering to classically feminine clothing choices: tradition, femininity, and modesty.
Foregoing masculine attire started as a Lenten discipline for me. In addition to my other observances, I elected to follow a devotion to classically feminine dress. I initially viewed this as a personal, but visible, promise to God to live out the roles he chose for me as daughter, sister, wife, and mother. The results of this six-week discipline were both unintended and surprising. I noticed during that Quadragesima that I carried myself differently. I was more poised, had better posture, felt (and hopefully looked!) pretty. Contrary to the current cultural cacophony that demands acceptance and celebration of genderlessness, sex flip-flopping transgenderism, and other perversions, I was determined to display the differences and complementarity of the natural born sexes in my manner of dress. I had decidedly set myself apart from my brothers. I felt… womanly.
After celebrating Easter, I found I had no desire to return to pants, trousers, khakis, jeans, or shorts. My commitment to wearing skirts and dresses had extended into regular day-to-day life. Having grown up a short-haired, scruffy tomboy—but one who loved wearing dresses to church on Sundays and to birthday parties—this was a departure from my long-established norm. Despite this, the continuation of my Lenten discipline was natural and effortless.
I celebrate my womanhood by making the conscious, personal choice to don dresses. By doing so, I have reclaimed my God-given, natural-born femininity that decades of feminism has demanded I relinquish and abhor. Listen to me feminists, wymyn, grrrls, xilrs: I am woman, hear me roar.
And, finally, to answer the questions posed at the outset:
“Are you from Little House on the Prairie?”
No, ma’am. I love the skirts but not churning butter, thank you very much.
“What about yard work? Winter? You going to wear skirts and dresses then, too?”
I have denim “work skirts” for gardening and lovely, long fleece skirts for wintertime (coupled with fleece-lined tights and boots I’m probably warmer than my sisters in single-layer denim jeans.)
“Why don’t you just wear pants?”
Because I don’t have to.
*Author’s Note: If you liked this foray into feminine counter-culture, next time I’ll tell you all about veiling at church and how it is absolutely nothing like wearing a hijab, niqab, abaya, or burka.
Ayla Stewart is a writer, artist and Youtuber. She is a Christian wife and mother of 6 children. A survivor of stalking, slander and abuse from radical journalists, media and extremist groups she is now an advocate paving the way for the average man and woman to reclaim the right to be normal without being terrorized. She promotes traditional values for all people, cultures and races and wants to preserve the beautiful diversity as well as traditional, family, values which God created.
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