Changing the World, One Outfit at a Time

Take a look around. Do you like what you see?

I’m talking about the daily onslaught of crocs, “yoga” pants, or any number of questionable clothing purchases people are making these days.

And lest you think I’m some old fuddy-duddy (although I did just use the word fuddy-duddy), I’m a card-carrying millennial. And in defense of the younger set, it’s not just them. I’m witnessing this in people of all ages, from all walks of life.

What’s the big deal? If you don’t like it, look away.

Well, sure. Of course I can look away, but that’s not really the point. And it certainly doesn’t address the issue or point I’m trying to make. 

If you’re like me, you’ve probably noticed hardly anyone seems to be trying anymore. And we’re not talking ball gowns at the Met because in average settings that’s a bit nuts. We’re talking a baseline modicum of self-respect.

Gone is the notion of “dressing for your day” as first heard by an ersatz employer in the not-too-distant past. What that even meant is still open for interpretation.

But if they meant yoga pants, crocs, and pajamas in the office, then yes, I suppose for the denizens of a first-world country with endless access to appropriate attire, people were in fact dressing for their day.

So what? Live and let live. 

Because that’s a slippery slope, my friend.

Don’t believe me? Think back to the infancy of the rainbow alphabet movement. Or how about “a woman’s right to choose”—wait, what exactly is a woman? Exactly.

From public streets, restaurants, and yes, our beloved Catholic parishes, nothing is sacred anymore. And this wholesale lack of respect starts—and in my opinion ends—with how we dress for our respective days.

Because like it or not, how we show up matters.

Now, I’m not talking about what you wear in the privacy of your home because, frankly, I don’t care what you wear so long as I don’t have to see it. What I do care about—and what I’m hoping to lovingly convict in my brothers and sisters in Christ—is the example that we’re setting in this world. 

Let’s use our imaginations for a second, shall we?

Imagine two scenarios. One: a lovely couple in their Sunday best (because we’re at a wedding feast, after all) reverently participating in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. They’re modest, which for the uninitiated or willfully ignorant means they’re not drawing unnecessary attention upon themselves, nor are they conducting themselves in a way that might embarrass (cough, scandalize) their fellow parishioners. They’re there for a specific reason, and it’s not to give themselves a spotlight.

Or two: the same couple, except one has visible undergarments showing and has stuffed herself into her favorite stretchy “pants”; the other looks as if he’s just finished a run to Taco Bell in between gaming sessions with his roommates. 

In both situations, they are clothed, ostensibly anyway.

Take a chill pill—they’re at Mass when they could have been anywhere else.

Yes. But is that really the bar we Catholics should be holding ourselves to? Showing up to a Wedding Feast in the presence of our Lord and Savior in whatever the youknowwhat we feel like? Really? 

No, I don’t accept that. And neither should you.

We are the salt of the earth (Matthew 5:13), a city set on a hill (Matthew 5:14). We are not to be conformed to this world, the same world that moth and rust destroy (Matthew 6:19).

There are countless times in the Gospel where Jesus reminds His disciples that we’re different, sanctified, set apart. So how can that be the case when one of the most trivial aspects of our lives—clothing—has us parading around in the slovenly uniform of the world?

The uniform that screams—or belches—it’s cool man, come as you are.

And like parents with their young—and sometimes their not so young—we need to lead by example and train our children in the way they should go, so when they’re older, they won’t depart from it (Proverbs 22:6). 

So, in a nutshell: yes, leading by example means putting on proper trousers instead of your house pants. Or a blouse instead of a crop top. Or—gasp—shoes with laces instead of whatever Crocs are made of (tears, must be tears, right?).

Look, I wish I could say this is something that shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

It bothers me because when I look at a woman who has shoved her God-given assets (no pun intended) into clothing designed to exploit her beauty and femininity, it reminds me that the devil is very much at work in this world.

It upsets me to see grown men grocery shopping in sweatpants and slippers when they could be dressed in a way that signifies their unique masculinity and, yes, modesty.

And God help me, it brings me actual sadness to see young boys and girls taking the same plays out of the same stinking handbook that their parents have when it comes to dressing for their day.

There are so many aspects of life that, to an extent, we have no (or limited) control over: who the next president will be; if the world will ever respect the sanctity of life from natural conception to natural death; if our Catholic and Christian brothers and sisters will be able to live their lives free from threats, reprisals, or worse, death.

So, yes, I’m talking about crocs and yoga pants—but what I’m saying is this:

Dress better than what the world says it’s okay to show up in. Be a light where you go by putting effort into how you dress. Get attention for the right reasons. And lastly, give grace to those who need it and pray for their conversion of heart.

I didn’t always make the best choices in my day, and maybe you haven’t either. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is picking up our crosses and sending Crocs back to Hell where they came from.