What I would like to get at is the idea of modesty defined as cloth covering socially defined bits of skin.
Perhaps my ability to remember having an LDS mindset is slipping away from me, but I can’t help but feel there’s something pretty narcissistic about assuming that God gives a toss about what you wear on your body. Presumably if some all-knowing deity decided to say to himself “Oi, I fink I’ll make some blokes and birds wot can worship meself” it seems likely that he knows what you look like naked. It seems even more likely that he isn’t too impressed with the silly getups we put on to make ourselves feel important. Really. Take a look. Do you really think an all-knowing, all-powerful deity is impressed with any of the following?
What seems more likely? That God is desperately concerned with what we put on our bodies, or that our own vanity and squeamishness about sex has produced some pretty outlandish solutions to appease this invisible false god called Modesty? Religious-based dress codes serve one of two purposes: to make some fat-headed man look important, or to keep women under control by concealing their bodies like valuables in a safe. Both stem from the same narcissistic idea: “Everyone is looking at me. If they are not, they should be so they will know I’m important.” Robes of pomp and circumstance are no less narcissistic than Islamic burqas and LDS garments, which can easily be mistaken for clothing that encourages anonymity. All non-functional ceremonial clothing serves only to identify a person as being different. Better. Chosen. In the know. Definitely not like the rest of the rabble.
“Ah, but you forgot,” the people of the book will say. “God was the first fashion designer. Those fig leaves were so last July. What’s really in for this Fall is animal skins.”
My only answer is this: do you really think God was serious? Can’t you recognise a good joke when you see one? Frankly if I had to work with two gullible gits like Adam and Eve I’d have one last go at them before they got sacked from their jobs as groundskeepers. And I know I’d do it by making them think they had to wear something silly on the way out the door.
Just . . . give it some thought.