By Jenna Fitzgerald | Copy Editor
For a word that typically has positive connotations like “propriety” and “decency,” modesty has curiously managed to solidify its place on the list of topics that have various viewpoints in modern America. A simple mention of the term is enough to kindle strong opinions and unpleasant feelings in a significant portion of the population — and for good reason. In recent years, discussion on modesty has shifted its focus away from empowerment and self-worth, becoming less about individual discernment and more about thoughtless obedience to an unyielding societal expectation of what is deemed “appropriate.”
In the contemporary sense, modesty is plagued by a series of issues. Many people are angered by seemingly over-the-top high school dress codes, which demand that your tank tops have straps the width of four fingers or that your shorts reach the bottom of your fingertips. Some are confused over the inequitable expectations set for men and women. Others are wrought with questions of self-confidence that stem from the judgmental side eyes of adults at church.
Let me be clear: If this is what modesty is — unshakable rules that women alone are peer pressured into following — then I want no part of it. Luckily, though, I have discovered that this is simply not the case.
At its core, modesty is beautiful. While support for this seemingly old-fashioned concept is often based on religious values, its backing can also be completely detached from those kinds of moral structures. I find both sides to be relevant when trying to paint a more thorough image of modesty.
Undoubtedly, I could list a hundred reasons why I, as a Catholic, find beauty in modesty. Chief among them is that modesty is one of the 12 fruits of the Holy Spirit, meaning that modesty becomes manifested in souls who — with the gifts of the Holy Spirit — humbly recognize that all they have, comes not from themselves but from God. In these ways, choosing to practice modesty affords people the opportunity to glorify God as opposed to exalting themselves.
Perhaps even more importantly, though, I could list many additional reasons why I, simply as a person and a woman, find beauty in modesty. First among them is that modesty draws attention away from superficial characteristics and toward a more comprehensive portrait of the whole person. I think the Catechism of the Catholic Church phrased it best when it said that modesty “guides how one looks at others and behaves toward them in conformity with the dignity of persons and their solidarity.” In these ways, embracing modesty gives people the chance to ensure that they are seen in their truest, purest and most stunning form: As a subject rather than an object.
To be sure, I’m not here to tell you how you should dress, nor am I here to tell you to “cover up” or “watch what you wear,” because no singular set of standards can be unilaterally applied to all cultures and scenarios. Rather, I’m here to tell you to carefully and intentionally discern how you should dress. Clothing is such a beautiful opportunity not only to adorn our bodies but also to showcase our personalities, and we should use it in a way that expresses ourselves without distracting from who we are.
The idea of modesty has become woefully distorted in modern America to the point where the question of embracing modesty appears to as a clear-cut binary choice. On one path are those who are against modesty, disregarding standards and norms in favor of individuality and freedom. On another path are those who are for modesty, doing the exact opposite by sacrificing the latter for the former. However, the truest form of modesty — and, surely, the most beautiful form of modesty — is found on the road less traveled: The path that lies between the other two.
What distinguishes this path from today’s misguided ones is that it presents modesty as an opportunity to honor and cherish ourselves, not as a chore that must be done to prevent others from looking at us in an impure way, but above all, modesty is about empowerment and self-worth. Urging men and women alike to understand that their dignity lies not in their fashion sense or in the amount of skin they have exposed, but in their fundamental personhood.
