A Catholic's attempt at unlearning legalistic modesty

Occasionally I receive questions from folks on my Instagram about my thoughts on modesty standards.

It isn’t a far-reaching inquiry—I write about the intersection of our faith with contemporary culture, and occasionally blog about my personal style. These topics naturally overlap.

But when I try to form a coherent, nicely-synthesized answer about my precise thoughts on modesty in our clothing, I frequently come up dry.

I’ve heard too many well-intentioned but poorly-delivered talks about modesty. I’ve spent too many days in settings where other girls were punished too severely for their clothing choices. I’ve had too many men make eyes at outfits that I felt were normal enough. I’ve had too many friends share stories of being sexually assaulted and raped regardless of what they were wearing. I’ve witnessed my husband carry himself with far more integrity and purity that I once thought was even possible for a man.

There’s just so much pain—too much pain—that’s been traditionally allowed to take up space in this conversation. Simultaneously, it’s been seen as all women’s fault and beyond our control: “you better not lead him to sin” in one hand and “boys will be boys, there’s nothing you can do about it” in the other. Both sentiments are riddled with shame so far from the heart of God; both attempt to throw a glorious virtue into the chasms of permissiveness towards the objectification of human beings.

Even in all of this, there’s one thing I know I’m sure of: modesty is a valuable virtue, and I’m tired of the legalism that cheapens it from showing the face of God. The older I get, the more convicted I feel that modesty starts with a desire for Jesus to be seen more easily than myself.

How can we best pursue this virtue in our contemporary world, in a manner that’s healthy, integrated, holy, and free of shame? What on earth are the answers here?