(the) American (Novel of)

242 Hazel E. Barnes
was manifest. Head scarves showed amazing variety in colors and patterns.
The long garments worn on everyday occasions varied widely in
materials (ranging from coarse synthetic to silk and velvet) and were of
different colors, though always darker ones. It was etiquette, not religion
or law, which dictated black for special occasions and allowed some
degree of personal choice the rest of the time. Ethical considerations
and regard for the demands of etiquette were mixed in my own reactions
and those of others in our small minority of women scholars. It
was fear of the law that kept our head scarves on our heads in public
situations. A few of us debated whether we ought not to remove the
scarves during the conference meetings when we gave our papers—as
a feminist protest. What deterred us was the feeling that to do so would
create a problem for our hosts, who were showing us the utmost in
hospitality, and that we would be guilty of an embarrassing breach
of good taste as guests. We were uncomfortable, psychologically as well
as physically, but etiquette won out over ethics.
My second example is familiar: the never articulated presumptions
underlying the history of fashion in Europe and America from the
medieval period till sometime in the last century. Whatever the prevailing
style may have been for men and for women, one rule remained
steadfast. The sharp differentiation between their apparel was directly
related to society’s view of their respective role and function. Men,
whether they displayed a well-shaped leg or confined it in trousers,
wore clothing suited for ease of movement and action, for doing things.
Women, especially among the upper classes, wore all that would keep
them on the pedestal on which they were perched, adorned and adored,
though not necessarily comfortable. Eventually an active, independent
woman who had achieved celebrity status (a George Sand) dared to
wear pants, evoking scandal but not legal prosecution. As Simone de
Beauvoir remarked, it is not easy to determine whether the choice of
early feminists to dress like men was to claim equal rights or simply
because masculine clothing allowed greater freedom and convenience.
Today’s adoption of unisex styles is an obvious reaction against clothes
as a proclamation of sexual difference—if not a denial of it, then at least
a rejection of it as primary. Today’s feminists have made so much of the
connection between clothes and women’s status that I need not belabor
the point.
Clothes are linked to religion and law in instances where sex is
not the issue. One example comes from Jewish history. Henry Claman