Confessions of a Church Girl: Is It A Matter of the Heart or The Hemline?

My latest feature on Madame Noire

I was born and raised in the grand ole Church of God in Christ, where they preach “holiness is right.” In my particular place of worship, “Thou shalt not wear red lipstick” should be the 11th commandment. On top of that, women are expected to wear hot pantyhose all year long, and rocking a skirt higher than a quarter inch above your knee is highly frowned upon. While this may not be the case for every denomination, there has always been a general code of conduct when it comes to women and the clothing that they choose to wear to church. For decades, women have obliged to this code; however, this more recent generation of young women, my generation, seem to be challenging the rules a bit. The attire being worn to church seems to be getting more and more risque as the years go by. “The skirts seem to be getting higher and the blouses seem to be getting lower,” I’ll hear one church mother grunt to another as some long-legged beauty struts by in her baby doll dress and 6-inch pumps to place her money on the offering table. “I hate this, it’s like they want to drag us back to the 1960s. Times have changed,” is what I’ll hear some of my other sisters complain. I’ll overhear this convo as I’m in the bathroom performing my own dreadful task of slipping on pantyhose in 80-degree weather.

I have a friend at church who seems to be going through the same thing right now. Sometime between this year and last, her “holiness is right” ankle length skirts have morphed into rising bandage skirts and those chic and sheer little asymmetrical get ups. More than a few people have approached her on the matter. One afternoon on the phone she vented her frustrations: “Why does it even matter? When I was living like hell and my skirts were down to my ankles that was okay, but now that I’m actually living right and my skirts are a little shorter than before I’m going to hell with gasoline draws on? What is more important, my heart or my hemline?” she groaned. This of course got the wheels in my head turning.

Read the full story on Madame Noire


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