Blessed Are Those Who Don’t Need No Therapy–and other things Jesus never said.

I’m not pulling punches on this one.

I was incredibly sad to see Robin Williams go this week. It’s even more terrible and tragic that his death came at his own hand. And it’s even worse that some people called him a coward, or belittled his supposed lack of willpower in powering through life. I’d like to see some of these people spend 63 years in constant mental pain and then see who’s the coward.

There’s been some talk in the Christian blogosphere (from bloggers who I won’t link to because it would only increase their traffic and reward their unloving, click bait behavior) to the effect that depression is a spiritual malady best treated with joyful thoughts, and that too much talk of brain chemistry and medical treatment is a modern distraction. Christians should, so these people say, view suicide as a conscious choice to reject all the good in this world, and the rest of us should therefore place suicide victims outside the “victim” category because it was really just their own selfish choice.


Despite all the available information about the medical side of depression, I’m upset to see so many people sharing these sentiments and going right along with them. The lack of nuance in the conversations is worrying the bejeebers out of me, and I’d like to have a chat about it with you.

Modern psychology has known for awhile now that depression is a complex animal with many factors. Life circumstance, habits of thought, brain chemicals, and physical ailments can all contribute to depression, and each might be explored as part of a treatment plan to alleviate it. As a Christ follower, I also believe that spirituality interacts with our depression. But then, as a Christ follower, I believe that all our experiences have a spiritual component to them, so this is almost as obvious as saying that the meaning of life has a spiritual component to it, or that the love for a child has a spiritual component to it. As we used to say back in the 90s, “Duh!”

Yet some people take this further, stretching the implications of this truth way too far. They get suspicious of medication and psycotherapy as real answers, stressing instead the need for God’s joy and spiritual healing as the “real” answer over and against the “false” answer of depression as a medical condition. This makes little sense to me. Saying that we should downplay the role of brain chemistry in depression just because we know a spiritual component exists is like saying that a cancer patient should downplay chemo just because we know that nutrition helps fight cancer, too.

Christians accept the role of medicine alongside faith in just about every other type of ailment, without seeing the two as being pitted against each other. Mention a serious ailment like Lukemia, AIDS, Parkinson’s, or Alzheimer’s, and most Christians will immediately say “I’ll pray for you,” indicating that faith and prayer are part of the healing. Those same people would not, however, say, “I’ll pray for you, so that means you don’t need to take your medication or follow your doctor’s orders.” Rather, they accept that faith, prayer, and modern medicine are going to work together in harmony–not competition.

It seems that some of the bloggers and nay-sayers who talk about depression are assuming that if feelings are happening inside your head, rather than outwardly on your body or organs, then those feelings can’t possibly be tied to physical processes; they’re all spiritual. And we know from science that it’s simply more complex than that. There are physical and spiritual forces at play in our brains; thus you need physical and spiritual healing to deal with it.

Next up–what’s with this insistence that enough faith and enough joy will allow or facilitate healing from depression? Isn’t that dancing at the edge of being a prosperity gospel, one in which God rewards you like a slot machine for putting in enough Faith or Joy tokens?

When I was 17, someone apparently entered my name in the Anxiety Lottery without my permission, and sadly, my number was picked. I became the lucky recipient of an obsessive worry problem that I’ll likely be managing for the rest of my life. At that young age, I didn’t understand why my feelings were so out-of-control, so I prayed about it constantly. When God didn’t heal my fears and obsessions and phobias, I began to suspect that He had rejected me. What other assumption could I make? Why wasn’t He fixing the problem?

During this time, my parents taught me something that I count among the top five pieces of life advice I have ever received. They pointed out to me that I was asking God to heal me immediately from my fears, the way one might ask God to heal a broken leg overnight or make a new job drop in your lap. Sure, they said, miracles are possible, but do we really walk around expecting God to zap our every prayer into being immediately? Doesn’t God usually work over time, in various ways, without revealing the end of the path? Why should that be different just because the problem is in our head, and not something outwardly physical? Did I expect Him to reach down and magically rearrange my brain wiring when maybe His plan involved leading me through a process of healing?

I’m not saying that’s any kind of easy answer. When your brain feels like it’s doing time in Hell’s version of Alcatraz, of course any rational person would wish for immediate healing. There is legitimate grief, anger, and confusion when emotional healing doesn’t come fast. But the point is, we mustn’t get unrealistic expectations about how God works. A person with a broken leg expects to go to physical therapy and stay off the leg for awhile and receive strength and patience from God during the healing period. A person who needs a job sends out job applications and pray that God guides them to the right place.

By the same token, it’s normal to need professional help and medication, and to take time to heal, and to feel like utter crap while doing so. It doesn’t mean you’re doing faith wrong. It doesn’t mean God rejected you. It doesn’t mean you’re wasting your time with medication while you should be sitting on your couch waiting for Joy-with-a-capital-J to show up.

For the record, my own treatment for anxiety involves a professional therapist, supportive friends and family, exercise, keeping a job outside the home, and the Holy Spirit. Should medication ever need to enter the picture, I won’t hesitate.

We also need to address this pernicious (and baffling) idea making the rounds that depression and joy cannot co-exist in the same mind, and that joy is therefore a cure for depression. I’m not sure why anyone would ever think this, but here is a good resource by a Christian woman for dispelling that myth. If you’re still unsure, ask around with people who have been depressed. I’m sure they can give you many more personal examples of joy and utter depresson coexisting. Life is nuanced. Life is gray. Get used to that.

No discussion of this subject could be complete without addressing this next point: is depression-induced suicide a refusal to see the goodness in life?

Besides being needlessly antagonistic and utterly insensitive to grieving family members left behind, this statement is just plain wrong. Taking one’s own life is not based on the refusal to see life as good. It’s based on the belief that you cannot attain life’s goodness.

When you know you should be able to enjoy things, but literally can’t–when you know loved ones care for you, but they can’t sit in your pain with you–when you see other people functioning, but can’t get yourself to function–you are painfully aware of how good life is…for everyone else. You just can’t get there yourself.

This, by the way, is why depression is so isolating. You look outside of yourself and see a happy world full of happy people. But you can’t be there with them, and they can’t come inside the depression with you. It’s not a lack of desire to see joy and have hope; it’s an inability to break down a wall that your brain created without your permission.

To say that someone who is depressed or suicidal is refusing to see life’s goodness is like saying that a slave who can’t escape a captor is refusing to know what freedom is. You may know it, you may want it, but you don’t believe you can get to it.

I mean, let’s stop and think about this for one second. One second. Who on earth would ever choose to be miserable enough to kill themselves? Who on earth would ever say, “I’m in so much pain I want to die. There’s an answer in the form of hope and happiness and joy and good things, and all of those sound lovely, but….nah. I’m too lazy. I think I’ll just painfully cut my wrists open, or strangle to death on the end of a rope, rather than regain happiness.” Who says that??

This refusal-to-see-the-good-life idea is such utter, complete, ignorant, cruel, ridiculous tripe that there aren’t enough words in the English language to criticize it, or to describe the careless stupidity one must possess to spout it in judgment two days after a beloved actor has left a grieving family behind. And that’s saying something, because do you know how vast and descriptive the English language is?

Now to the final bit. It has come to my attention that some people are playing the Personal Experience card to de-legitimize other people’s experiences. Here’s how it works. Person X says, “Depression feels insurmountable; people who kill themselves must have been in so much pain.” Person Y says, “Oh yeah? Well I’ve struggled with these issues, too, so I can say from experience that you can get out of depression with this spiritual formula.”

Well, if we’re going to play the Personal Experience card, guess what? I have one of those cards too.

Having dealt with anxiety since I was a teenager, I’ve had my fair share of bouts with depression. Here’s the interesting part: my depression is usually a byproduct of anxiety (in fact, I hesitate to even call it depression because of that, but let’s do for the sake of argument). Because it’s a product of my anxiety, my attempts to fix my anxiety by changing thoughts and changing focus usually go a long way to alleviate the depression. So in a way, I could fit the profile that many of these bloggers want everyone to believe–the profile of the depressed person who finds a way to pull herself back into joy.

Yet even I, someone who found ways to pull myself out of depressed feelings, completely affirm the reality that many cases of clinical depression are too debilitating for people to fix on their own, and cannot be solved with enough joyful thoughts, especially if they’re due to chemical imbalance. Even I, who should fit these bloggers’ categories, believe their theories about depression are complete poo.

I could use my personal experience to belittle and blame people who have a different depressive experience than I do, but I don’t. You know why? Well, first, because I’m not a jerk. But second, it’s because I recognize that my experience is very particular to me, and that I have not experienced the kind of severe, brain-chemistry based clinical depression that some people struggle with. And I would not want those other people to tell me how my anxiety-driven depression should work, or to make predictions about how to fix it. What’s useful is to learn from each other’s experiences, recognize the differences, and support each other. So let’s drop this charade that heaving dealt with “these issues” somehow gives us insight into the experience of every depressed person. Shall we?

If I sound angrier than usual, it’s because I have finally lost patience for people hurting each other. I will grieve for Robin Williams and the millions like him in the world who suffer from a silent hell, and I will not be polite when people say ignorant things about them.

Heresy According to Twitter

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Twitter is the worst medium for discussing controversial subject matter.

The character limitations are too short to allow complexity of thought, but just long enough to tempt you into believing you can communicate complexity. The result is snappy, pithy sound bites that usually offend and almost never contain the nuance and concessions required to deal with tricky topics.

So I think we can all agree that Twitter is not the appropriate forum to speculate whether someone is a heretic.

**Update as of May 22: The original tweeter, Owen Strachan, has since gone public to state that he meant there to be a distinction between being a heretic and teaching a heresy, and that that distinction got lost in translation over Twitter. I REST MY CASE.**

(On a related note, does anyone else find that word hilarious? I always picture a tick with really bad theology, I’m not gonna lie. I was going to post a picture of a tick but I got nauseous looking at them).

I really don’t know what else needs explaining about this. Whether you’re bidding Rob Bell “goodbye” or suggesting that calling God “she” is on par with heresy, discussing the validity of a certain theology over Twitter is just plain silly. An exercise in futility. It can’t adequately be done. It makes you look impatient, foolish, and judgmental, even if that is not your actual character or intent. In what other manner can we communicate this idea so people will listen? Stop. Using. Twitter. To. Declare. Heretics.

Important points of theology (and yes, heresy) have always been decided through careful reflection by real people together in real life locations. I mean, can you imagine what would have happened if, say, arguments over the validity of Gnosticism had happened over Twitter?

I’mOrthodox: @Gnostic5Evah ur believes r stoopid 

Gnostic5Evah: @I’mOrthodox I cant hear u, 2 busy separatin soul from body, no more ears 

I’mOrthodox: @Gnostic5Evah I wish u’d separate faster n go away!

Yeah, that never would’ve been settled.

Oh gosh…what if they’d had a Tumblr thread to canonize the books of the New Testament? Have you seenTumblr threads these-a-days? People go Godzilla on each other over whether the Sherlock writers included gay subtext between Watson and Holmes, can you even imagine trying to hash out something as important as which early church letters God inspired, and what they mean? Not to mention all the ridiculous picture memes we would’ve been subjected to:


What if Martin Luther had pinned his 95 Theses to Pinterest? Who would have re-pinned it? Would you? Would the church at the time have crafted a rebuttal pin? (Wait, for real, do you think a nail in a door could be considered a pin? Holy crap, guys…did he invent Pinterest?) On a related note, d’you think they would have set up Paypal accounts for indulgences?

Was the Council of Nicea a Facebook group that drafted its creed through status updates? No. Do you think people debated the validity of holy relics by sharing Instagram photos of them? I don’t think so. Did the apostles text each other when they had a disagreement about how to evangelize? Please.

On a serious note, though: I know it’s tempting to fire off what you think is the wittiest sentence in the world about whichever person makes you the maddest. I’ve done it too, more times than I’d like to admit. But please refrain. Just remember that no one can adequately discuss something as serious as another person’s faith in 140 characters.


And remember that every time you try, all of us are driven one step closer to insanity through sheer annoyance.

How the Accidental Complementarian confused the bejeebers out of me today!


I think this will be my last egalitarian post for awhile, unless some unforeseen blogosphere emergency arises. Starting tomorrow I’d like to switch back to pleasanter topics. But I discovered an article about an accidental complementarian over at Her.Meneutics and was so baffled by it that I had to write a post just to put my thoughts in order. This blog is becoming like therapy for me.
It tells the story of Jen Pollock-Michel and her journey from egalitarianism to complementarianism. She opens with an anecdote about all the times that her husband has moved for a job, leaving her to pack the kids and the house and deal with the responsibilities of relocating. She (and the article’s subtitle) makes reference to complementarianism being a misunderstood lifestyle, and goes on to explain how she came to believe that comp theology is more Biblical, because of her understanding of “head” as meaning “authority.”
I read this article. Then I read it again. I still didn’t fully understand what it was getting at, so I read it a third time. Each time, I gained a new appreciation for the author’s bravery in telling what’s sure to be an unpopular story. Unfortunately, I also gained layers of frustration each time as I tried to parse what exactly she was getting at.
Well, that’s not completely true. I know what she was “getting at.” I think Pollock-Michel wants to remind readers that complementarians aren’t all thoughtless drones who inherited their theology and don’t know better. I think she feels marginalized and wants to express that. She’s asking not to be judged, because she’s dealt with her own share of frustration in embracing something she used to reject.
It’s a venting piece. I get that. Venting pieces aren’t bad. The problem is, this one was a bait-and-switch, and it baited us with something very important: the notion that complementarianism is misunderstood, and the implied promise that she was going to more accurately define it for the skeptics.
Early in the article, she says that comp stereotypes are not “the full truth” and that “misunderstandings about complementarianism abound.” I think it’s true that some people misunderstand complementarianism. And yes, stereotypes probably don’t fully describe the experience of people who live it. Stereotypes seldom do.
The problem is, she never expands on this. What is the “full truth”? What are the “misconceptions”?
She offers us an anecdote about her own life that seems to fit the stereotypes, then tells us the stereotypes don’t show the whole picture, but then doesn’t paint that picture for us.
Let’s back up for a moment, though. The first thing that really struck me about this article was the contrast between what the article states vs. what its tone is.
The article states that negative views of complementarianism are misinformed. But here’s how the tone reads:
It opens with an anecdote about a put-upon wife. It actually draws attention to the fact that the negative stereotypes can feel true. It uses words like “reprieve” to describe the desire for egalitarianism. The best the article can muster in terms of positivity is to vaguely describe submission as “holy beauty”—but even that comes off as being a belief mostly acquired through guilt (guilt for having a “deaf ear” and guilt for being unwilling to match Christ’s attitude about sacrifice). Loudly absent is any concrete description of how day-to-day comp life actually feels beautiful; the beauty is attributed to the theory, not the practice.
And it’s not just the feel of the article that bothered me, but the impossibility of putting together exactly what she’s trying to say. There’s just enough contradiction of language, and just enough missing pieces, to leave readers with lots of questions, all of them unsettling.
First, what message were we to gather from the opening anecdote? Was the prioritization of her husband’s career, and her automatic assumption of solo childcare, a conscious decision they made because of complementarianism? Or was this simply a rhetorical strategy to showcase people’s hasty assumptions about female oppression? The start of the second paragraph makes it seem like just a rhetorical strategy, an example that the author plans to flip around and show a different side of, when she says, “Our arrangement could illustrate the burden…” (emphasis mine). Readers expect a hasty “But you’d be wrong!” followed by an explanation of why complementarianism isn’t actually the killjoy it appears to be.
Yet she never does circle back to refute this “illustrat[ion]” of burdens, and actually ends the paragraph with, “I sometimes can’t help wondering if the stereotypes are true.” Then, she says the phenomenon of overburdened women is not “the full truth” of complementarianism—which, to me, implies that this unpleasant stereotype is the truth and is a reality, just not the whole of it. So, does that mean that she has indeed discovered complementarianism to be a system that causes wives to be more burdened than their husbands? That seems like a strange thing to highlight in an article whose subtitle calls the movement “misunderstood.”
I also wanted more about her thoughts on authority. The concept of “head” meaning “authority” played a critical role in her switch from egal to comp, but what does “authority” mean to her and her husband? What does a man’s authority suddenly look like in a marriage that has always functioned with complete equality? What did her husband have to do differently? Was the prioritization of his career the way they interpret him holding “authority”? It’s the only concrete example they give. Who got to decide what authority meant—him or her? Both?
Part of the reason I ask this (and obsess over that opening anecdote) is that equating authority with bread-winning, and submission with childcare, is one of the most stereotypical and least scripturally defensible beliefs the comp movement endorses. I had thought that perhaps this couple, having started out egalitarian, would define “headship” differently than how many comps automatically do. That’s part of the reason I was interested to read the article, and I felt the subtitle implied it. The article, however, actually gave no evidence that she had discovered complementarianism to be different than she thought it would be as an egal.
Now, perhaps she and her husband do define headship and authority in unique ways. Maybe this anecdote does not reveal their definition of authority. But we’ll never know, because no real definition is provided, forcing us to read between the lines.
Yeesh. I feel like I’m getting really crabby about this. The thing is, I admire this author’s bravery. At least she’s being honest about where she is, and she has every right to keep the more intimate details of her marriage to herself. I just felt that the title and opening of the article were a big bait-and-switch, and I wish things had been clearer.
Truth be told, I want this article to make more sense because it touches on a subject that’s close to home.
The picture of a marriage that starts egal and moves into comp is, in some ways, a frightening thing for me to look at. Jaron and I also married as committed egalitarians. We, too, didn’t use “submission” in our vows. Like the author and her husband (at least at the start of their marriage), we believe that male dominance is part of the curse (I won’t say that male “headship” is, as everyone seems to have a different view of what “headship” means and I’d rather not tangle with that). When someone describes a marriage with a similar premise to mine that traveled to such a different place, I’m invested in hearing how that shook out.
I tried to imagine today what would happen in our household if I told my husband I believed he was my authority. He’d look at me, laugh, say, “Then as your authority, I order you to act like an egalitarian for the rest of our lives,” and we’d probably never mention it again. It’s sort of like when my parents got engaged. Mom told Dad that she was okay with deferring to him on big decisions. “No,” he said, “we should make all decisions together.” To which she replied, “No, really, I honestly don’t mind deferring to you,” at which point he put down his foot and said, “No—we will make all decisions together, and that’s final.”

: )

So I guess we all engage in a little double-speak now and then. I’ll have to forgive this author. It must be hard to write about something so complex in one page, and I don’t have to know her full story to know what my story should be.
But darn if those missing puzzle pieces don’t set my OCD going!
(By the way…if anyone is curious how the egalitarian position can be Biblically defensible, please visit CBE or God’s Word to Women. I don’t want this comment section to begin reinventing the wheel on theology that’s already been exhaustively hammered out in other places.)

The World Vision Gay Marriage Kerfuffle

I never, ever pass up a chance to use the word “kerfuffle.” Expect to see it much more on this blog.

Ahem. I was going to write something about the World Vision KERFUFFLE over gay marriage, but one of my brilliant fellow bloggers has already said everything that I want to say. Except she said it better than I could have. In fact, she helped me understand my own thoughts on the matter, for which I’m very grateful.

If you think you’ve heard all there is to say on this subject, think again. Read blogger Kristen at the Wordgazer’s Words blog for her smart and gentle take on World Vision and Evangelicalism.

Modesty Battles and the Role of the Fashion Industry


With April nearly on us and summer around the corner, do you dread the start of the modesty battles as much as I do?
You know what I’m talking about. Someone writes a blog post urging girls to embrace modest dress in an effort to prevent lust. Someone else writes a response post discussing how this attitude hurts women. More posts pop up. All of them get shared on Facebook. The comment section on each thread turns into a theological battle about who’s responsible for lust, what role clothing plays, and whether this conversation harms the self-esteem of young women.
Just thinking about it in advance gives me a nervous tic.
This year, I want to make a preemptive strike. Yes, you heard me. I am striking preemptively, bringing on the conversation I so dread. Why would I do such a foolish thing?
Well, if we’re going to have the conversation anyway (and judging by my watch, we will in about five weeks), I want to get it started off on the right foot.
You see, every time this battle starts, it’s always directed at the wrong people, and I want to direct it towards the right people for a change.
Without fail, the clothing conversation is always started with young women.
“Buy modest clothing. Don’t stoop to “the world’s” tactics. Popularity isn’t worth it. You don’t want your brothers to stumble. Your motive should not be to attract them—unless you believe that “modest is hottest,” in which case, absolutely, use attraction as your motive.”

So now I’m going to say the conversation should be directed at young men first, right?
No, keep backing up.
Before the conversation gets to young women….before it gets to young men…before it gets to parents…it has a first stop to make, and that is at the doorstep of the fashion industry.
One very basic principle of life is that you can’t buy what isn’t being produced. Do you want girls to have higher necklines? Longer shorts? Fewer see-through clothes? The first step in that process is for those things to actually be available on the clothing racks.
I invite you to go shopping with a teenage girl sometime this summer. Go to any reasonably-priced department store you want. Target, Wal-Mart, Kohls, Old Navy, Maurice’s, Macy’s, doesn’t matter. Shop with her for awhile, and try to complete this challenge:
Find ONE tank top that is cut high at the neckline.
One.
I bet you can’t do it.
(If you do, please comment on this blog post saying where you found it and what brand it was, so I can go buy it. I’m serious).
You may be thinking that you’ll immediately just go to the camisole section. Those are adjustable, right? Girls can make them as modest as they want. Ha! You’ve outsmarted the Observational Ginger this time!
Not so fast. The reality is, there’s only so far up you can adjust a camisole before it’s hugging your armpits, cutting off circulation and sponging up sweat so that you smell like an onion by 10:30 in the morning. They’re cut with the expectation that girls will wear them low, and adjusting them upwards makes them not fit in other areas of the body.
Also, to all you guys out there, I must appeal to your logic for a moment. You’ve experienced unbearably hot summer days, right? The kind where, even in a T-shirt, you’re practically melting? Now imagine that you’re actually wearing two shirts on such a day. The first is the top you picked out this morning, and the second is a FLESH-HUGGING, ARMPIT GRABBING, SWEAT COLLECTING camisole that you’re wearing UNDER the already-too-hot shirt.
Get the picture?
So let’s change the challenge to one comfortable tank top that could be worn by itself, all day long, that is also cut high.
I am confident in challenging you to this because I have searched high and low for them, and they do not exist. (Again, if they do, I beg of you to let me know where. I would fly to Abu Dhabi at this point).
Next challenge. Try to find shorts that are modest enough for you. This one should be easier, right? You’d think, in such a large shorts section, there must be a variety of lengths. They can’t all be super tiny.
Oh….well…apparently they can. Okay, so long-ish shorts for young women may be a toughie. But wait, brilliant idea! You’ll just head for the Capri pants section. Capris come down mid-thigh, so they’re—
Wait. No. Those are cut like skinny jeans and practically painted on. Plus they’re really low-rise.
Well…I guess girls can wear jeans all summer and sweat it out. (The kind of jeans that aren’t skinny, of course, which brings it down by about 50 percent).
We haven’t even touched on the phenomenon of see-through clothes yet, and already I’m frustrated.
Now, to be fair, there are ways to solve these problems. The tank top thing, for instance. You can cut off plain white tanks at the rib area so they’re just little half undershirt things, and then wear the undershirt half-tanks backward (because they are cut higher in the back than they are in the front. I’m not kidding). You can then wear those backward things under all your regular clothes, they don’t hug the armpit quite as bad, and they’re not a full second layer.
You can also buy jeans and cut them off to make your own shorts.
But do you notice something about these solutions? They’re all improvisations that girls have to invent. I recently spent an entire day looking for this season’s brand of tank tops that I will cut into under-tanks and wear backwards. I couldn’t find any that could be worn forward. Some years, I have trouble finding anything at all. Plus, it took me until age 30 to have the brilliant idea to wear them backwards.
My point is, girls can’t just walk into a store “with a good attitude” towards their Christian brothers and easily start choosing things off the rack. Sometimes you can’t find good solutions.
So I question the wisdom of lecturing girls about it, when the people with the most control are actually the fashion designers and clothing stores.
The True Degradation of Womanhood
I don’t believe there’s anything terribly wrong with wearing low-cut tank tops or short shorts, and I don’t agree with many of the shaming and scare tactics used on girls (I’ve seen memes stating that God stops paying attention to girls who don’t dress modestly. Wow). Now, I believe it’s sad when young women think they must wear those things to be attractive and have worth. And I believe any young woman should seriously consider how she shows respect to her body and how her clothing choices reflect that. Self-respect–not shaming, not fear of losing approval–is what my clothing choices are based on. And I don’t think it’s a scandal if a young woman, having thought carefully about self-respect, still chooses clothing that’s cut a little lower or higher than mine. No judgment here, ladies.
The problem is, in a world where the fashion industry offers us one option, we don’t even have a choice. I think that is the true degradation of womanhood going on here. The fashion industry either believes that all women think the same, or believes that women who think differently don’t deserve to be indulged. (I haven’t figured out which it is yet). It doesn’t care what a woman feels about self-respect or her own body.
And it doesn’t help that an army of self-righteous fashion police tells us we’re somehow responsible for the problem.
I’m not suggesting that I have The Solution to force the fashion industry to change. I honestly don’t know how to fix that problem. It’s something that I will begin researching this year. But I do know that we won’t fix it by telling young girls to magically find a type of clothing that doesn’t exist in our shopping malls. No matter how much guilt you pile on them, they can’t make tailor-made outfits appear from thin air.
So what do you think? Do you have any ideas about how we could make the fashion industry offer more choices at reasonable prices?