• —1 Corinthians 3:16 “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?”

  —Psalm 26:6: “I will wash my hands in innocency...”

  —Romans 8:1 “therefore, there is now no condemnation in those that are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit...”

• I have been called a “gem”. Ok...a rugged and sometimes ragged one, me.

  Where are gems located??

  In a tidy jewel box, displayed on shimmering satin or velvet, in perfect pristine order with no dust or dismay??

  Nope...but rather from mud and dust and disorder and hiding and the requirement of a pickaxe and shovel and a polisher.

  Polishing from the raw takes major work, mud-covered and grimy reality.

  Effort...work...labor...diligence...stick-to-it-ive-ness..

  Polishing is not tidy stuff!

  God, however, is the Great Transformer of people, as He sees into Eternity and our gifts hidden beneath the muddy exterior.

• God must be a great lover of beauty, as His creation is stunning and magnificent, an overwhelming compendium of symmetry, divine order, abundance of good, bounty and a sense of peace. Humans seem to be drawn to beauty. I think God designed us that way: symmetry offers stability and soundness. We break these Godly laws at our peril. I am very guilty of this, especially in times of my youth, in rebellion.

  I have long loved the realm of beauty! This includes the staggering beauty of God’s natural realm, the refreshing pine forests of my childhood home, the babbling brooks and creeks, the snowy Mount Shasta in the far distance across the California border, 90 miles to the south. I also love the fashion realm of beautiful clothing, some elements of surface applications like makeup and hair, lotions, fragrance and skin care and the honorable presentation of physical beauty. This, of course, can easily devolve into vapid obsession of temporary surface things but can also reflect the true beauty of holiness and righteousness (NOT shallow vanity or self-righteousness or hubris.)

  The older I get, however, I see the edges getting rather ragged and the more deeply I experience the stern pressure of the world, especially on women... “DON’T YOU DARE SHOW YOUR AGE! It is verboten to show reality!! You are pressured under condemnation, to join the Bowing-down Club and submit to fashion diktats! Oh, and that includes squandering money on some hopes of “looking young.” You are also commanded to blame things on the “patriarchy.” Ok??”

  Nope. I am no longer a feminist. I have become...gasp...a reverse- rebel, choosing to forge my way in Elder years by humbly following God and His Son and not the world.

  This does NOT mean not caring for yourself or giving up. God first of all, works on the inner sanctum, as it were, the closets full of sorrows and regrets...and my rueful personal favorite and frequent struggle, self condemnation over my flaws. A dead end, for certain and part of the realm of fashion certainly feeds this malady.

  God is not against beauty, He is against the worship of the external, combined with arrogance and hubris. No one holds back time...this place is temporary…

  Eternity is not.

  Beauty is a very personal and primal thing, one that plants itself directly in the middle of biological women’s lives, whether they actively participate in it or no.

  The pronouncements on women are seemingly endless...demands, condemnation, pressure, fantasy not grounded in reality.

  Heck, my Barbie doll, with the absurd body and her own “dream house “ had a much nicer wardrobe than I, long ago.

  I have in recent months been quite strident in my writing about the pursuit of honorable dress and against the devil’s lies over modesty and pushing vulgarity. Vulgarity is not empowering and the sexualization of children is directly from the pits of hell.

  This is spiritual warfare, front-line edition.

  A gem needs polishing and the requirement of this is also a very personal and challenging journey with God, into just what the heck is BUGGING me and all of us. Unsolved mysteries, buried regrets, self castigation (”stooopid...”) and frequent emotional hurricanes and headaches, brought on my useless perfectionism. You would think I would learn...but nooo...gotta still slog through at least some of the muck. Well, at least there is an end to the muck, bit by bit!

  I am seeing sparks of hope, however, that the light in the distance is a Godly light and not an oncoming train...

  As the Psalmist speaks of “washing my hands in innocency”...what a wonderful proclamation of an excellent thing to do!! Not cynical, not defeated, not dark and attending Curmudgeon University (my many-year personal location) and the ridiculous pursuit of shaping the surface stuff instead of working on the soul and spirit. Beauty will then begin to be reflected in the honorable surface and not the “impress others” surface. Impressing others, just like the following of “influencers” is not always a good ramble in the brambles, as the thorns are gonna get you and harm your soul. They are sharp and not friendly.

  Narrow path...it is a difficult but clean struggle but a most worthy end, pleasing your Creator and not the worldly demands.

  I keep on, as Papa God tells me daily, “one step, one day.”

  I hear and I listen and I will and I do.

  Wendy Elizabeth Williams Friday, April 17, 2026

• —Consider becoming a paid subscriber at $5.00 a month. The yearly cost is $60, if you prefer that way. I actually prefer the $5 a month, if possible, so there is no snagging if you decide you have to step down from a paid subscription. You can subscribe easily on my Substack page and if you find you can no longer be a paid subscriber, you can do so via Substack itself or contact me via a direct message on Substack Notes and I will help you. I know financial things can be gnarly for many of us in general and I take not a penny for granted!

  --Consider donating any amount from $1 and up on my Ko-fi page, Ko-fi.com/wendyelizabethwilliams. You can donate one time, periodically or monthly, as you prefer. On my Ko-fi page, I am also creating a shorter writing piece per week, focusing mainly on my life-long love of all things fabric, garments, beauty and the centuries-long battles between men and women. After I get my weekly longer piece up on Substack on Friday nights (usually!), I then place my shorter Ko-fi piece up also on Notes. This week, my piece speaks of a past dear San Francisco friend who started calling me a “wren” because I did not dress in bright or flashy colors! I used to have some strong reactions to her gentle teasing...but tried to explain my warrior stance to her in my residential leasing work, handling all kinds of people out and about, ALONE, in showing apartments. I had to have some serious grounding and my faithful barn coat...the color of a barn...rough-wood, gave me stability and strength, as a fluffy color would not have. San Francisco is a very rowdy City and I managed to hold my own as a Leasing agent, for 17 years, partly with the help of my faithful Barn coat! No longer a “tart” but a “wren” and a good one at that! I like being more invisible. “A Wren in a Jacket: dressed for war.”

  --Please pray for me! Thank you, Wendy

• Sometimes Beauty is War.

• One element of myself is a plainspoken warrior and one element of me is a sensitive soul and deep empath. I am also a lifelong lover of things of the realm of beauty, including fabric and garments, sometimes known as “fashion.”

  Sometimes the pressure is way too much and hence, why I dress for “Trench Couture”, an armor not only from Ephesians 6, the full armor of God, but clothing for protection of my physical self. Sometimes beauty is war, like a “ trench”. I NEVER dress to reveal! Never!

  The marketing machine of “ beauty” is massive, especially for women. The huge pressure for women to be a certain template is relentless...flattening the soul and spirit under heaps of condemnation, as though we are never enough, no matter what we do.

  This debate has been hashed out long ago...

  Feminism, misogyny as well as misandry affects us all.

  And yet...I am no longer a feminist nor a hater of men...nor do I want to be on display.

  I have a theory of sorts and it has developed within my spirit over time, especially as I get older.

  Absorbing the mendacious “diktats” of high fashion magazines, the demand is to embrace SEXY as the prime “membership of the tribe of female” and we are to rue the day when one of us says NO. How dare we refuse?? Well, I did.

  This does not mean “ de-beautifying” or “uglifying” ( phrases I created), and whatever those might mean. It simply means stepping back from the demands to present ourself as being “ desirable and available.“ As I have spoken at length about all this before, based on my very blunt experiences in the original sexual revolution of my own youth, sex is vastly over-rated. The overwhelming selling of it is flat-out wrong and leaves wreckage in its wake. I am one recipient of that.

  I remember earlier in my youth...when I lived from 1975 to 1979 in the beautiful emerald city of Seattle, I was working in a garment factory, not remotely glamorous work. I would, every three to four months, scrape together the funds to get a radical hair style, as one of the tiny handful of things I would do to attempt to feed my spirit. This also included intense makeup from a smaller store across from Nordstrom in downtown Seattle. The haircut was truly “rad”...and literally my hair emerged as 1/4” long. I would stun people at first. This was my first foray into being disaffected by the demand for women to be “fluffy” and pliable. I did not feel fluffy or pliable, I felt gnarly and the haircut reflected that. I was gaunt and angular, not shapely and did not draw traditional men. I would either draw or repel ( usually the latter.)

  However, that experiment did fall flat after awhile as I got out of my twenties.

  I genuinely love men, despite my struggles and failures with them. I love the partnerships of male and female, as I discussed in my previous post.

  Life began with male and female joined.

  However, sex does not occur every day, most of the time.

  Since I remain unmarried and celibate, I focus on the spiritual aspect, the “holy cerebral” of W.E.W.

  I wonder if...beauty can be enjoyed as separate from sex?? Is that a revolutionary idea, bodacious in its query? Can the healing realm of beauty be celebrated without the obsession of sex?

  For me, it most certainly can.

  In my collection of saved fashion photos from high fashion mags I once subscribed to in the 1990s and early “ aughts” back in San Francisco, there is one very favorite photo, likely from Harper’s Bazaar. There is a dress, what I call “sublime understatement.” It is obviously a high- fashion dress, designed by a modern version of Lanvin, sophisticated in its core and yet with it has a fascinating innocent presence to it and certainly why it has continued to hold my attention all these years. (apologies for no photo of the dress, not do-able.)

  The dress is in a sumptuous shade of red, likely a crimson or scarlet shade, on the edge between cool and warm. What I found fascinating is that the dress, although it is a grown-up dress with definite sophistication, also had an innocent childlike element to it, like a simple girlish frock, not sexy but poignant, like the longings of my own heart. It appears to be made of a heavy cotton-linen blend, with inverted pleats in the moderately full skirt, sleeveless and slightly cut out at the sleeve back, a high bodice with no cleavage, and side-seam pockets, in which the serious-looking model had one of her hands enveloped. The photo is shot from the side. The juxtaposition was startling to me, the blend of high fashion that was tender, not sexual, and the innocence presented carefully and with subtlety. This drew my heart, feminine beauty without rampant seduction. Seduction is truly exhausting…(this is from my own experience…from long ago…)

  I like some rebels in garments, not for flash but for a statement of those of us who resonate differently. For as verbally bold as I am, I am actually shy physically and do not remotely desire to show off.

  Rei Kawakubo, radical garment designer from a company called “Comme de Garcon”... is a creator of beauty that speaks to the mind instead of the body. She is quoted as saying she designs for strong women who attract men with their minds and not their bodies. When I first read that statement, I immediately resonated with it.

  Rei Kawakubo was born in Japan in 1942 and I would imagine her formative years being in the horror of WW2, would have had a major influence on her sensibilities. While I do not know all the influences on her life, she utterly rejected the Western dedication to female pulchritude. Her clothes were bold and yet hidden, with not scrap of fluff or flirtatious in them. While I am not advocating for dour, I agree with a major calming to the flaunt of the physical.

  It is my hope that enough of us can shift the hammering consciousness of fashion, toward a tempering of the rawness of the worship of sex and more toward honoring feminine beauty as a Godly presence of peace, humility and a Servant’s heart.

  Holy Spirit as always, nudges me in interesting titles for each of my weekly pieces. This one is a blend of His and mine, from a phrase, “trench couture”, I found written down from my own notes from many years ago when I lived in San Francisco, a warrior place all the way. I am also writing for my second Substack core, called “Clothing as a Refuge”, which I have not done a post for in quite awhile.

  Let God work in the invisible realm...and see your soul be nurtured from the better place than the temporal attention of the world...

  Wendy Elizabeth Williams, Friday, January 23, 2026

  --Consider becoming a paid subscriber for $5.00 a month or $60 a year. A kind note to all my paid subscribers: each of you is greatly and humbly appreciated but NEVER pressured to continue to be a paid subscriber. I am respectful of people’s funds and know that things can change periodically. If you find you need to stop a paid subscription, please contact Substack directly or send me a Direct Message from Substack Notes and I will help you.

  --Consider donating any amount from $1 and up on my Ko-fi page, at Ko-fi.com/wendyelizabethwilliams. You can donate one time, periodically or monthly, as you feel guided. I am also writing one shorter piece per week on my Ko-fi page, concentrating on my life-long love of all things fabric, garments and beauty. Each Friday evening, after I get my weekly longer piece up on Substack, I will also place my shorter Ko-fi piece on Notes as well. This week, along with the Substack piece from my other Substack site, “Clothing as a Refuge” that focuses on elements of modesty in clothing, I am writing a short piece on my enjoyment of Rei Kawakubo, one of the most fascinating and creative of fashion designers. I mentioned her briefly in my Substack post as well. Rei, born in 1942 in Japan, is a 100% unique designer of eccentric and rebellious clothing that focus on anything but the flaunting of the physical self, AKA “seduction”. I can truly empathize with her creativity and resonate with many of her garments! I call the piece “The Sobriety of Rei: No frippery in sight”

  --Please pray for me, as a “micro-entrepreneur”, business of one! Thank you, Wendy

Isaiah 43:18-19: “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye now know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and even rivers in the desert.”

I have a life-long love of things related to the realm of beauty, both in nature and in human form. Symmetry, presentation, heart, dignity, divine order, these things draw me. It seems to me that in 2025 and on, beauty is being pummeled into something I find not so beautiful...like bent and misshapen, a shadow. I retain a quiet reserve of observation on all this disruption. I see that the spirit of beauty is becoming subject to a dark seducing spirit, one element of the debased modern age that attempts to change the core of what beauty represents. This is not a race, an ethnicity, nor a culture, this is the darkness incarnate that tries to overshadow, and the handprint of the devil all over it. Our natural beauty and humanity is being shoved down and spat upon.

I have gradually become somewhat more...emotionally reserved around men.I never formally married. From the youthful days of being promiscuous and quite bold, my persona has changed. Part of this is the pressures of Elder age and as Elder women particularly feel invisible… and part of this is my digging deep into the war between men and women, the deepening sorrows between the two core tribes of humanity. Without the balance between male and female, life will fade.

This is not a simplistic statement, nor an easy path to tread.

For me, beauty is a mystery that can feed my soul, a warrior empath and sensitive person. The essence of beauty moves quietly, with subtlety, with dignity and with deep respect for the Creator, Who made things beautiful. God is a great lover of the realm of beauty. Look at the sky!! Look at the Earth!! Beauty abounding!!

There is a huge pressure on women, especially the young. It is an immense spirit of condemnation, that we are just "no darn good" unless we are in a narrow line of presentation: thin, no flaws, no worries, no stresses, no concerns, no failures, flawless skin and hair, 6 feet tall...and we dare not be UNAVAILABLE for sex!

I was recently in the pharmacy and store called CVS, doing a bit of shampoo shopping. As a lifelong lover of beauty and makeup, I usually do a quick walk through of the cosmetic section, briefly perusing the various displays. Well...at one lip color display, I was shocked.

Lipsticks have long had cheeky names attached to colors...but these names were, from my well-traveled position, crass and plain old vulgar. I will not share the names...but suffice to say, there was no doubt in my mind as to the raw intent, unsubtle blatant sexual seduction. I stood there shaking my head. I remember long ago, in the early 1950’s, one lip color was called "Fire and Ice " and that was supposed to be racy! We have now provoked ourselves into “slut " territory.

"Slut " used to be a pejorative, and judgment on females who actually had sexual desires. Now some women embrace the term as a rebellion against male domination. I read in some fashion magazine several years ago, that women should basically always be available for sex, ready and willing, ( and a French woman in the article used a profane word that began with "F" and I won't say further. )

As a woman who was extremely promiscuous in my own Boomer youth, age 18 to 28, I had sex with at least 50 people over that time period. I am most certainly not proud of that record. I have been in the trenches, so to speak. I have followed the devil's marketing gig and I will scream, “this is not something to emulate!” I was seduced by evil. I am here to tell you, evil is NOT a party.

Let me tell you from unpleasant direct experience, it is not remotely the "sexual freedom " it is spoken to be. It is smashed hearts and emotions, having any vulnerability be pummeled, multiple sexually transmitted DISEASES ( not remotely sexy,) and two unplanned pregnancies that ended in abortion in summer and fall of 1973. Slut, indeed. Freedom is not free, correct?

Stark definitions of beauty and ugliness are in a constant battle and clash.

May I gently remind the fighting cores on both sides, GOD CREATED SEX. He made it for two purposes: keeping the human race going, and intimate fellowship and enjoyment between husband and wife. Is it easy? Not even close.

I failed at it. I can, at the very least, in my Elder years, be a conduit for the support of young women struggling to find their way through the shoals of a raging river of lust. I am not a prude. I am not repressed. I am not shameful or shamed. I am as practical as can be, after crossing the sea of lust in a tiny boat full of leaks. May I suggest directly from the Blunt Oregon Girl's handy-dandy volume 999,999, don't follow that path! Please consider removing your dear self from this maelstrom and humbly asking for better! God absolutely has better for you, if you will listen to Him and actually follow His counsel day by day. It is not instantaneous…but it does happen!

Ugliness is also relative to cultural tomes and pronouncements. I am speaking not of physical ugliness, but rather ugliness of soul, which is a direct follow-up of a broken heart. Sorrow breaks the lovely lines of the face and body, ages one prematurely and savages the spirit.

God is the Great Physician of all things, both temporal and Eternal.

Only His immense mercy can truly, step by step, cleanse the sadness that threatens to overtake the soul. I have lived in "sneer-ville" and do not recommend it. I am one who is a sometimes-raw work in progress with all this, so I speak from painful experience…staying on the narrow path with Papa will save you an ocean of tears…even if difficult.

The scary step to take is, with trembling hand, simply admit you have lost your way and ASK Papa God for help. Yes, the great “sexually free”…have fallen into ditches and muddy places (I certainly did!) and need help to get out (and stay out!) The ugliness begins to be cleansed from within, with repentance, which is a simple step by step turning away from what caught and tormented you, body, mind, soul and spirit. Gradually, to not overwhelm you, God can and will gently and tenderly restore the natural beauty that once reigned in your life. Despite my sorrows, this is exactly what Papa God and His Son Jesus Christ are doing for me, even in my Elder years (73 in November 2025). It is NEVER too late and He can make all things new!

Wendy Elizabeth Williams, Friday, July 11, 2025

—Consider becoming a paid subscriber at $5.00 a month or $60 a year

—Consider donating any amount from $1 up, to my Ko-fi page, https://Ko-fi.com/wendyelizabethwilliams. You can donate one time only, periodically or monthly as you feel guided. Also on my Ko-fi page, I am, at the guidance of Holy Spirit, writing one shorter piece per week, focusing on my lifelong love of beauty, including fabric, garments and “style”. I place each shorter piece up on Notes as well, on Friday nights, after I have my weekly longer piece up on Substack. This week’s piece speaks of my reaction to the sometimes more sober look of men’s garments, as opposite to women’s decorative and “display” looks and how I am drawn to some of men’s garments. I love being female and I also am drawn to more dignified garments, that are not frilly and some element of that is included in some men’s garments.

—Consider hiring me to do a bit of writing for you! I am very good at what I call “emotional-descriptive” writing. I am a deep empathic type, I feel things very much from emotion and am drawn to certain products that affect my sensitivity and feelings. I write in an authentic style and I write as if I myself were drawn to buy something! I am not easy to impress…but I do feel drawn to at least some products out there. Very affordable, no long-term commitment. Contact me on Substack Notes via a Direct Message or on Ko-fi with a message there on my page.

—Finally, please pray for me, that I clearly hear the still, small voice of Holy Spirit, as He is my writing coach! Thank you, Wendy

Isaiah 61:3: "...to give unto them that mourn, beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness..."

Having been a life-long lover of all things fabric, garments and style, I sometimes wander into online fashion shows for women. A good number are accompanied by hard-driving rock and roll music and garments that are short, tight and very revealing. These are not remotely my taste, as I seek the more tempered presentation of the power of clothing. However, I recently found my way onto an extraordinary video of a young Haute Couture designer named Robert Wun, who presented a twenty-five minute show (season of Spring-Summer 2024-2025) that was peaceful, cerebral, mesmerizing, courtly, dignified and filled with the feminine magic that was not seduction! A difficult balance...but the cerebral overtook the rowdy in this event. The music was mysterious and "techno" and had a positive spirit to it. I was deeply moved by the way the garments moved to the classic cross-foot walk as the expert models strolled slowly, graciously and delicately in the mostly long and sweeping gowns, stunning in their amazing beauty. These were obviously not "grocery shopping" garments...but nevertheless, fed my soul. This can be the true inspiring power of garments.

Observing the utter thundering herd of intense obsession with sex and vulgarity in 2024, I have evolved, through pit and past trauma, to be an opposing rebel to this dissolute state of being. The damage to women and girls especially, has been profound. I am in righteous anger and intensive prayer mode for the remainder of my life, participating in the spiritual warfare battle of all battles, for the very spirit of humanity. This is not "force" over other people but this is also the primal "offensive force" of my own self-defense, for things of purity and modesty. Considering my own flagrant failure in this arena from my past...I see the irony...and yet feel compelled to fight the good fight against the filth threatening to trample dearness, tenderness and innocence. God did not make this trample, the devil did and I resist him. He beat me up enough in youth…and I am DONE in Elder age.

Based on what I unfortunately dived into in my Boomer youth, I experienced the lies of the devil, who speaks nothing but darkness and fully unfulfilled promises, especially to women. Drawn, pushed or shoved into the chaos of " sexual freedom", otherwise known as a giant pile of "crud", I became rambunctious, rowdy and joined what I call the " fellows and fellowship of NO!" I lost track of how many people I had sex with. I am not proud of that memory and hence, what I write about in my own Substack, much on "what not to do" and what my youthful actions cost me.

Ribald, raw, cynical, demanding and thrown headlong into the filthy molten pot of engulfing sexuality, there was no restraint, no discernment, and I got cast aside more times than I could count. I sadly did some casting of others as well. This is not remotely a good way to live. This was totally a realm of rugged emotion, too much right brain feeling and not enough balance of left brain logic to discern a better path. We need a balance between left brain and right brain!

Thank God for God! God is a most creative and excellent Teacher.

He also is what I affectionately refer to as a " Stealth Papa", One who can unexpectedly direct things to His kids that not only resonate with their core temperaments as He labors in partnership with us to refine us but also to affect our spirits in a positive and useful manner.

He catches us "off-guard" and hence why I call Him a Stealth Papa. I am certain it was He that led me to this amazing online fashion show of cerebral beauty and peace and just what I needed at that very moment (I shed tears...as also said large numbers of the commenters below the video!! I have never in all my years, seen this many commenters say they were in TEARS at a fashion show. It obviously touched a very deep and primal longing in women, for the reducing of seduction and a move to the more noble and honorable, the cerebral! )

For me, as an intensely emotional, empathic and sensitive soul who is deeply drawn to fabric, garments and the flow of " style", I am moved more by how I feel the world around me, things like color, shape, proportion, texture, sound.

I am grounded enough at 72 to have at least some common sense to operate at a basic level in this world, without which I likely would not have survived to this age. I also still struggle steeply with some logical "pressures", mostly the demands of the physical world to " do this, go here, be this way or ELSE." My rebellious self still resists this relentless "logical" push and too often creates an impasse for myself. I have never had the requisite physical stamina to fulfull all that.

This is certainly not the most brilliant of strategies to create a " successful " life (whatever the hey THAT is.) I have not had "success" but I AM a survivor.

I certainly seek the polar opposite of the outrageous, to soothe my soul and spirit. Raw and raucous and ugly is not what I want to look at. Clothing especially has too much focus of skin and not the mind. Attractive is fine but pushy is not. Sometimes I want to scream "please stop flaunting your body, women! Tone it down several notches, please. You are more worthy and better than that!" This is NOT “church lady” stuff, this is the reminder of the nobility of women, not the gutteral!

My realm of fascination with garments was birthed with my Barbie doll of childhood, as this doll dressed in RED VELVET and in embossed pink CHIFFON, for goodness sake. Gorgeous and otherworldly, those two dresses in particular, are lodged in my dear memory of the power of clothing. (Please note, I now have no red velvet or chiffon…)

Fashion to me, should not be about simply putting the body on "display " but rather a spark of visual inspiration . This comes via design, color, shape, texture and the wondrous flow of movement and sheer overwhelming presentation of things of beauty. This can be poetry spoken without words! An honorable garment can truly feed your soul and spirit.

Admittedly, daily life can be dull at times, with work responsibilities, the relentless juggling of time, money, family and friends.

We all need some sparks of light day by day, things that, without harm to self or others, nurture us and those who also might resonate with things, including garments.

For me, that is where the evocative nature of fabric and clothing comes in. I feel comforted with garments that are not revealing in any way. I do not have funds for fancy clothing...but I am grateful for the basics of pants and shirts and sweaters and scaves and earrings, and at some point, dresses and skirts again. As much as I love the great beauty of high fashion garments, I wear simple and functional clothing that is respectful of myself and God. I can enjoy the beauty of fashion from a distance and still be a conduit for God's mercy to the world.

Wendy Elizabeth Williams November 29, 2024

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--Consider making a donation of $1 and up, on my Ko-Fi page at https.www.ko-fi.com/wendyelizabethwilliams. This can be a one time donation, a weekly or monthly offering. Please also note I am beginning, at Holy Spirit’s counsel, to write some short fashion and beauty pieces from my own beauty history and place them on my Ko-Fi page. I now have two short pieces up, remembrances of my youth in Seattle, with Biba and Mary Quant makeup! Fun! On my Ko-Fi page, just scroll down on the right side and you will see the posts, somewhat more lighthearted than the serious stuff I craft on my Substack!

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—Please pray for me that I hear Holy Spirit’s dear still small voice of counsel in my writing. He is my Writing coach!

I thought my rebel days were over!!  Observing the chaos of the world today, I guess not. The beauty realm has been invaded by darkness. I am officially a rebel for the winsome and for innocence again. 

My love of beauty is a life-long joy! The hopeful, the tender, the compassionate, the empathetic, the gentle, the kind, the  authentic and genuine, all these carry me day by day and always have, even through dark and very difficult times. I cling to God and His Son, Who are the very essence of beauty, both of the Spirit and the material realm.  Symmetry, harmony, practical reality, strength through difficulty, honorable self-restraint and honorable self-sacrifice for the support of the suffering, the brokenhearted, this is true and eternal beauty. 

It now appears that in 2024, we are awash in cynicism and dark thoughts and wishes.  This is not from the realm of God, this is from that fallen angel, the devil. Dark thoughts and cynicism do not produce anything of beauty. From my own direct experience with being a terrible cynic (still recovering, so NOT pointing fingers but simply and sadly observing), the face of the cynic does not often age well, filled with anger, sorrow, sadness, emptiness.  I can still see the anger, grief and sorrow etched on my face. Even as God is gradually lifting the terrible weight from my soul, the results  of my own cynicism still mar my face at age 71.  I tell you from blunt experience,  the inner self is clearly reflected and the body cannot lie, especially as you age.

The realm of physical human beauty has become so incredibly focused on the exterior display, the shallow, the outside only. The status of wealth symbols, the seeming celebration of darkness and debauchery and rebellion, this feels overwhelming to  the beauty realm.  To me, this is not true beauty, which is humble, in  divine order and a gentle spirit. Instead it has become a hunger that is never filled.  I don't like it one bit.

Growing up, while I was not a huge " fashion girl ",  I did look forward to sitting on the grass of our back yard in August and flipping through the Montgomery Wards catalog for new elementary school year dresses, measuring how much I had grown in that previous year.  Not high fashion clothes but simple, sturdy and modest, these were the basic garments of my school years through 7th grade.

Upon entering 8th grade, emotional disaster struck my life, with the overnight death of my Mom of a massive stroke, a month before my 14th birthday in 1966.  Two years later, an older brother was killed in Vietnam in 1968.  I was knocked down so deeply in the emotional realm that I was shattered for a very long time.  Next to childhood, the heart of adolescence is the most intense and formative time of our lives. Our persona is grilled  and baked and shaped by those two intense times, both emotionally and physiologically. Ones' view of oneself is shaped as you go into puberty, with the sheer intensity of the physical changes overwhelming you.  Clothing was dropped from my focus and I fell into hippie range: pants, no bras, funky jewelry, thrift shop finds, granny glasses and no real fashion sense.

 Beauty does evolve as your physical self ages.  Never being a flamethrower in my adulthood, I refrained from the overtly sexual. The flagrant, to me, is not beauty.   True beauty does not shout. "Seduction", which I never deeply sought, is not overt but subtle. Thus is how beauty is to me, not loud but empathic and a deep current.

Even in examining the great "seductresses" of human history, many were not considered great beauties but instead focused on their humor, their high intelligence, their ability to consider the condition of  others, their gift of lively conversation and their rugged and independent spirit. They did not get "captured".  The heart of all this examination, for me, is not that I admire seductresses, as I believe the best seduction happens within the core and holy covenant of a Godly marriage between one man and one woman, for life. Yes, this is a very difficult path to tread and considering the 50% divorce rate, not a good accumulation, even for Christians.

I admire a Servant's Heart instead, as that produces inner beauty, which then is reflected on the face.  I would hope that many are simply slowing down and partnering first with God, to find the honorable husband or wife, for life and to not take marriage lightly.

That being said, and considering my own life, in which I never formally married,  I am well-aware of the very high mountain which I never successfully climbed.

I am not a seductress in any manner. I am a simple woman of God and follower of Christ, who walked in the darkness in rebellion and found my stumbling way back. I seek to be a conduit for the love of God to the brokenhearted.  I can still love beauty, which reveals itself as the positive virtues I mentioned above. I can enjoy the staggering beauty of nature, color, shape, texture, and the beauty of human faces and the challenges they have endured. I would take a lined and careworn face over a smooth and  shallow face which has no love of empathy, only for the self. Narcissism is a dangerous trend, only followed by emptiness and loneliness.  

Partnering with God is a good path, one of a Servant's heart and the joy of seeing the tears dried on someone else’s dear face. That in itself, brings forth true beauty.

"As for me and my house, we shall serve the Lord." Joshua 24:15

Wendy Elizabeth Williams, July 20, 2024

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I have a cherished photograph from an old fashion magazine, likely Harper's Bazaar, perhaps from the end of 1990's or early aughts. 

The model is a very young lady, looks to be around 12 or 13 but looking quite mature with a solid and intense gaze, is dressed in a sublime Valentino skirt-suit. A deceptively simple design which I am certain has sophisticated inner workings, there is not a "sexy" or  aggressive tone whatsoever to this $4000 piece of majestic and masterful beauty, created from the finest fabric, most excellent craftspersons who made it and the wondrous design of Mr. Valentino Garavani.

The iconic black and white photo speaks to my battered soul with such overwhelming power and is one of the few fashion photos I saved after all those years of simmering on high-fashion magazines. The model in this particular suit emanates such incredible power of the lady-like, what I call "sublime understatement."  It carries no overt force, although her gaze is intense. The suit itself is extremely modest, with a knee-length skirt in very subtle gathers, the jacket cut in princess seams and very softly shaped to the waistline. Five dark buttons close it from waist to neckline, with no cleavage or showing off. She wears dark opaque hose. 

While I do not know a great deal about the masterful garments designed by Mr. Valentino Garavani, he was one of Paris' great haute couture designers, who certainly did not present "flaunt"  in any manner. 

My point in all this garment-gazing is the starkness of much of modern women's garments, that push sex, sex and more sex onto every thread of female apparel. Even little girls are shoved toward showing it all off, when that is the polar opposite of what little girls should grow up doing. This is not about "shame" or apologies for being female. This is about honoring the power of dignity and the deep feminine, the healer, the nurturer, the kindness, the blessing and not the stark aggression of the "cougar" or the sex-bomb. Women are given the immense ability to nurture life, only biological women can do that, in a tandem creation with a man.

I can speak of this because I myself pursued the skin tight jeans in my youth, even if not the overt cleavage or other brassy  display. I still knew how to get a boy's attention...even if it was only for a moment that dropped into the pit quickly.

I stand from the front lines of speaking out about the power of the state of ladylike, which is not a doormat nor a domestic slave nor a supplicant but rather a quiet realm of peace that is desperately needed in this world. The war betwen men and women may just be the oldest war of all and one I have been a sorrowful and intense participant, much to my weeping over many years. Losing track of the sex partners I had in my youth and aggressively pursuing men and a handful of women, brought only emotional chaos and destruction to my life in every area.  I can minister to some youth because of the disaster that happened to me. This is not about "holier than thou" or what is called "slut shaming" in the blunt vernacular of modern 2023. I have participated in being a "slut" and pursued the "freedom" the devil sold to me and my Boomer generation. It is a total lie and hence, my sincere desire as the "blunt Oregon girl", to speak some stark truths about just how the fallen angel works to steal, to kill and to destroy. I am a blunt girl of a righteous age (71 in 2023) and I can truly speak from my unhappy experience, to encourage young women to simply sit down with God in their spirit and seek His counsel. God is the One Who created sex! He designed male and female for one another, for the dual purpose of possible reproduction and also for the holy fellowship of one man and one woman for life, family, shared intimacy and a growth of spirit that comes from creating life, birthing it and raising the little ones to hopefully be honorable men and women and seekers of the freedom that only comes through walking with God.

As I never formally married and did not have children, I can only speak from the sorrow I endured for over a decade in my youth, as I ran from man to man to man, from sexually transmitted diseases, to two abortions in 1973, to the profound lie of "sexual freedom", otherwise known as the devil’s big lie.  I am simply grateful I survived. I was a prodigal from the Christian faith for 35 years and truly blessed that Holy Spirit did not stop coming after me to draw me back to God. For however many more years God will give me, I will attempt to be a conduit for the immense love of Papa God, to all His wounded human beings, to have a place to find help, healing, solace and transformation that only God can manifest. Just to be satisfied with the female body one was born in must be a big deal here in 2023. I have never once longed to "be" a man, as I am female and have had the blunt experience of bleeding every month for 35 or 40 years. That is the core of female, the monthly cycle that brings forth the reminded of our biological roots. Certainly not always fun or entertaining…but a part of how life is made, when connected with a man. Egg plus sperm can equal life.

We desperately need God's healing help for our rowdy and wounded souls.

After trying so many many different roads in my desperate years of wandering and rebellion, I can truly say that God and His Son the Lord Jesus Christ are the pinnacle. They save, They heal, They comfort, They guide, They instruct and They protect. They will also judge on ahead. It is my most cherished and heartfelt prayer for others to experience the God I know, not a tyrant seeking slaves but the Father of Fathers Who seeks sons and daughters to be His family.

Wendy Williams November 25, 2023

Attraction, detraction, on display or hidden,  status or none, political bents, clothes are a temperament that affects us all.  From my childhood observation of my Dad's heavy canvas overalls and  cotton flannel shirts for his work on the railroad, to my Mom's Registered  Nurse uniform of  a heavy white starched cotton dress with clunky white oxfords, white hose and a starched white cap, I watched the power of silent speech in garments. Profession, status, education, religious faith, all on bold display, tugging us one way or askew.

To a large and practical degree, the Elements demand our fealty, even if temporary. In warm or cold weather, we submit for survival and  to some degree, decorum.

The older I get, the more hidden I want to be. Part of that is the lovely pull of gravity on my 70 1/2 year old physical self and part of that is my temperment, who always preferred the physical background. Verbally, I can always speak ( remember the “blunt oregon girl” !) but with the physical, I prefer to remain behind the scenes and offer my life embrace from the written word.

I am the eccentric, drawn to both haute couture and to clothing of the working class, my own roots. As a researcher and a poetic observer, I watch the human flow around me. Fashion is a reflection of the chaos of humanity, both good and not good. In the maelstrom we are now in more than ever, we are cast about and it is only my holding fast to the hands of God that sustains me.

With the incredible amount of (shallow...) focus on the physical alone in modern 21st century USA, to even consider the Spirit is revolutionary. As much as I love clothing and the beauty of the "thread arts", I have plenty of current misgivings, considering the flat-out vulgarity of many garments today, including the "naked fashion" fad. A more dense fad I have never known in all my years of loving fabric, garments and style, the idea of basically walking around almost naked, or as I say "presenting your private parts to the profane of the world." This is utter and complete madness, straight from the depths of hell. There is no shred of "female empowerment" in showing your body to the world. Young women have been solidly sold a bill of goods by the father of all lies, the devil.  As I have said in the past, the devil is a great marketer but he gives lousy customer service! I do not mean to imply that women should be covered from neckline to toes. I mean to have some moderate self-restraint and mystery, please!  Likely not heard...but I tried. I come from years of youthful rebellion and certainly have experienced being a “free woman”, practicing the “art” of seduction and bedding many many men and a handful of women, overwhelmingly to no joyful avail and to disastrous results for me and my soul (emotional, financial, physical disaster.) I am no “church lady”, I have a very blunt background. I am not a repressed prude. I am a blunt Oregon girl who has seen the dark reality of “sexual freedom” and am grateful to have survived the profound lie that is proferred twenty four hours a day in current time (now 2023).

In the midst of this emotionally charged fray, I have asked myself, a lifelong lover of beauty, would you rather be considered beautiful or of very high intelligence? 

I surprised myself by answering, I would choose high intelligence.

 Despite the many highly intelligent people, of  whom some  are possibly arrogant and likely atheist, I personally cherish the beauty of the mind, that incredible brain that God gave us and indeed  "the mind of Christ." 

From my decades of self-study in the realm of beauty, via books, articles, magazines and my own experimentation, I know so much of beauty can be surface stuff, akin to the power of cosmetics, hair, fitness and clothes. There is nothing wrong with those things in and of themselves. However, the beauty of the physical being ephemeral, I prefer the depth and grandeur of the illuminated mind. Books, lectures, research, the digging nature of the human psyche, there is so much of a feast before us that can fully be embraced regardless of physical appearance. I do not suggest dressing like a slob or totally ignoring the body...but please, present some restraint! Even young men are being overwhelmed by the female flesh presented, the flaunting but the "look but don't touch."  Well, that used to be called "teasing" ( I will not say the more blunt phrase...) and in the modern day, I think that is a major mistake and dangerous road to step onto. Now more than ever, there are steep levels of darkness, fed by pornography and the sexual revolution, the realms of the demonic that are on the attack across the world, trying quite well to break down the natural modesty of women through bullying, social conditioning and the endless flow of fads.

I have this context I have developed, off the cuff, in how I observe beauty in my fellow women. 

From my seven decades of life, I experience women in three basic categories: beautiful, pretty or handsome. Beautiful usually regards some classic features of the face, like sculpted cheekbones, full lips, striking eyes, the balanced planes of the face. This of course, varies in accord to culture. 

Pretty faces I see as a more modest step of beauty, like the softness of features, a warm smile, an open face. 

"Handsome", even though more of a male description, means to me a woman of high intelligence, with more subdued features but eyes that shine with wit and the power of the psyche. You cannot look at the eyes of a highly intelligent or brilliant woman and not see the power behind the gaze, regardless of physical beauty or not.

Strange again that for me, who loves beauty in all manner, I would choose to be "handsome" instead of beautiful or pretty. I am a blend of handsome and pretty...but in my Elder age, I pull back even more from the pressure to "DISPLAY". Display is the formidable pressure women are under to show off the physical form. I was always too prickly to be subdued...but I have also paid a steep price for my sharp tongue.

Hanging out with God, He does rub off on you and His character and that of His Son Jesus Christ, does also gradually fill your heart with the compassion and love He shows to us all, as He simultaneously calls us to repentance and to turn away from what He calls sin. God is love, yes, most assuredly but He is also the God of “go and sin NO MORE”. That is repentance, a working of a “broken heart and contrite spirit” spoken of by David in the Psalms. Not lip service but real repentance, turning away.

Yes, a big leap, but that is true beauty, not only the temporary high of what I experience as exhibitionism. 

God, the beautiful God, what a Guy He is.

I will soon be sharing on Substack, some of the things I am exploring on my various Pinterest pages, (wendywsfwriter on Pinterest).  I have plenty of fashion pages, observing the beauty of the past and the temperament it evokes, as contrasting to modern day. I write short descriptions of various garments and fashion layouts, ones that speak to my spirit. I love to write descriptive and emotional tomes! This is the beauty of modesty and working with God to bring the His love through each of us.

Wendy Williams  July 7, 2023

Clothing has power---to protect from the elements, to comfort, to inspire, to ennoble.  Clothing can also debase, dismay and dehumanize to destruction.  Aside from the basic need to protect from the cold or heat or to be dignified, clothing has a potent presence for help or hurt. 

I have a life-long love of all things fabric, garments and style. I see the seductress woven into so much of women's clothing, even for little girls. Little ones are sometimes provocative and precocious, not understanding fully yet the presence of clothing. Wise Moms and Dads can steer them to pretty clothing that also does not present disrespectfully. 

I am the opposite of an exhibitionist. In clothing, I do well in the hidden, the subdued,  the humbly mysterious, the impenetrable, the inscrutable.  Showing off repels me, I would rather politely study the world about me as an honorable observer, a poetic soul.  I do not like being on display.  Display seems to be the core template of so much women's clothing, showing off this or that, as if display was a commandment, that display is your " value." Drawing people's gaze seems to be required. 

Poets run deep, sometimes like the thundering cataract, sometimes like the babbling brook. Although as a writer, I do not formally write poetry, I resonate with the depth of vision and complexity of a poetic soul, seeing as a sensitive person the beauty in ordinary things or the natural realm. This includes the beauty of clothing of all kinds, one of my life-long loves.            

The yelling manner of modern Western culture, the barbarian runs full-tilt both on visual media and the written word.  Instant gratification roars and imperiously commands a rampant mess and I think a lot of us “poetic types” would prefer to remain in our caves and hidden corners, in opposition to the blaring and swearing. 

Garments are my hiding place. Coats, jackets,  cardigans,  capes, sweaters, what glorious masters of comforting places for the soul!

In my past, when I spent  31 years living in San Francisco and Bay Area, to 2016, (no longer there) as a person of very modest financial means, I found much inspiration from scraps of fabric, tiny pieces of beauty that I could fit in a pocket. I could see the color, feel the texture soothing my fingertips and see the poetic beauty of woven threads. With the chaos of modern USA in 2023, keeping the basics afloat is a hard-fought battle for millions of us and for myself,  instead of seeking solace in drugs or alcohol or sex as I used to do, I remain a "poet in the hem of a garment."  I resonate with the hidden, the modest, the subtle, the hiding in plain view, the unspoken words of encouragement, as "God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise and the weak things of the world to put to shame the mighty" from First Corinthians 1:27, one of my life verses. This gives me life and hope.  

Garments can contain much hope and help. We as women can set down the demands of darkness and simply say a quiet "no" to being a seductress and take our blessed place as God's givers of life. Whether we are a Mother or not  ( I never was), we can gently pour cooling waters on the overwrought fires of lust that seem to sweep our culture. "Seduce" your husband alone, not the world!

1-30-2023.  Wendy Williams

"Come unto Me, all ye who labor and are heavy-laden and I will give you rest."  Jesus Christ from Matthew 11:28

Generations endure change, every twenty years or so, the same and yet the different. A margin of error and mostly nothing primeval or too deep truly happens, as the human condition keeps rolling, stumbling on, some in sheer momentum, some in a tempestuous, rowdy ramble off-road into the muddy ditch water. Humans being the gnarly as well as the hopeful, change is gradual, less momentous. It is very difficult to move the dial.

The older I get, the more the introspection occurs.  I am a very deep person, hence why I mostly remain alone, as I do not resonate with 98% of humans . The oddball professor works for me, wandering the library stacks and the realm of the Spirit in search of wisdom. 

2023 and nearby years reveal a deep, suppurating gash forming especially over the female of the human species, formed out of  cynicism as a raw defense against being slam dunked. Dismay persists and deepens, loss of hope and loss of love grows, the emotional wounds of the centuries-old battle 'tween men and women, seeing no resolve and gasoline poured over the crackling flames. The darkness of the age- old  CYNIC builds in the shabby, dirty shadows.

In some women, the very planes of the face have been changed,  from the softer and more fleshy feminine display of days past.  Cheekbones change to SHARP, sunken, jutting and angular, not rounded or  tender. 

I myself in youth, scoffed at Mothers and makers of homes, as if the ladder of success was the best to aim for (although I was never a rousing business success, not even close). The scoffing is at epidemic force, with the violent, virulent scraping out of bothersome, messy babies. How dare LIFE interrupt MY LIFE?  

Sculpted cheek bones, hollow, edgy, bombastic, stomping all about and yet all the while, mourning the need for love and companionship, including family or friends. 

Cynicism makes the face hard and cold. Men can become more arrogant and base, women can become more strident and predatory. Having one's heart broken so many times and seeing the abject blather that passes for "truth" pouring over our society, this is not a good thing for health or well-being. 

I  was hardly the shrinking violet in my youth, as per my disastrous and sorrowful journey through the debauchery and rebellion that was the sexual revolution of the 1960's and 1970's.  I was a temperamental and yet skinny voluptuary and I paid a staggering price for all that bad behavior. I have lived in steep retreat to all that, since 2002. I sincerely hope my face at 70, does not reflect the hard and cold. While I am not a particularly "fluffy girl", I do remain aware of the need to cast the cynic off my shoulders. It does not help my spirit nor my body.

On my various Pinterest pages, I explore the beauty of modest women's garments, including the tender, the sweet (not sicky-sweet!), the comforting, the kind, the blessed and dignified and even the sometimes playful.  Seduction has no part in my life. Presentation of kindness and the beauty of God and His Son is a powerful healing agent and I have no desire to show off. Not that I ever did show off physically....but I was quite the seductress in my youth, not by display but by my attitude and primal "presence".  This was not a great idea and brought me only sadness, illness, two abortions and multiple times of a broken heart.

I can look at the faces of models and women from the past, especially early to mid-1950's and also early 1960's.  The sheer structure of the face was different. Yes, I know the times are "different" but my point remains, hard and cold does not look great, especially on women. I am not naive! I have lived in the trenches of sexual rebellion and made it out as a survivor but am spending the rest of my days in fellowship with God and the Lord Jesus, to both repair my damaged life and to act as a humble conduit of God's healing love to others of the brokenhearted state. 

As a former feminist, I certainly agree that women have legitimate grievances against men and social structure...and yet the angry and frozen shell that has formed over some women, including the transsexual craze, is as dystopian as it gets.  Dissonance, dissing, condemnation of the core of the feminine spirit, hardness overtaking the Motherly spirit, (and I do not mean  the "earth mother", as the earth is not my Mom), this is a disaster of huge proportions.  I weep with it all, as my own heart is wounded as well. I am spending the rest of the years I have left, in repentance and in working with God to heal my own deeply wounded soul and body. ONLY God can do this healing. While I did  not ever have children, little kids are in desperate need to have a soft place to land, with both Dad and Mom in one house. No perfection needed, but a place of acceptance and comfort to deal with the hardships of life as it is thrown at all of us.

HELP US , GOD, we have made such a mess. Only You and Your Son can heal the brokenhearted and transform us into conduits for Your healing love. 

Wendy Williams 1-21-2023

1- 21-2023

Reply

With WW definitions:

"Coated", the wearing of a coat or jacket

"Coating", the roaming about, wearing a coat or jacket

Coat:

--A protective covering from the elements

--A refuge of privacy

--A cocooning place of comfort

--Colors that feed your spirit 

--A nourishment to the soul

Garments perform many functions but coats and jackets are often the initial visual presented from yourself to the world. From the extrovert to the introvert, from the extemporaneous to the hermit, an outer covering gives a direct, forceful or even mysterious placement of function, shape, color, texture, your doorway, open or closed to the world!

A life-long lover of all things fabric, garments and style, I have always been drawn to outer coverings, coats. I am the polar opposite of an exhibitionist. I do not like being on major display. While I do not seek to be invisible or to melt as incognito, I do gravitate to quiet, solitary stance, to let my wordsmith do the talking, rather than my physical self. I do admire a handful of loudmouth extroverts but do not emulate them.

Once I left home in my youth, I spent much time in rebellion and sorrow, hence my desire to be covered and mysterious in clothing. Terrible grief in my early youth drove my desire to hide and this meshed with my writer soul. Long coats were my forte and even wearing oversized men's coats that slathered heavy fabric over my petite frame, I loved the vagabond look. I wore very blunt intensity on my sleeve, driving many away from "THAT girl with the sharp tongue!"  I was quite skilled in being both blunt and hidden, an odd juxtaposition. I was a rebel and a woman of sorrows.

One powerful coat I wore in my first year in San Francisco in 1979, was an enveloping man's coat, long, rumbly-bumbly huge sleeves in a rough-hewn tweed, not a delicate color at all. It covered me to my calves and was not polite. No belt, no definition of the woman hidden underneath except for the boldness of my eyes, which always spoke for me without a word. Big and wide sleeves overwhelmed my gaunt arms and I hid so well in that coat for a couple of years, roaming the scrappy SF streets in Eureka Valley and upper Market/Castro area. Bounding around my neck in various layers of heavy scarves, I survived the chilly fog of SF. 

I did not need to display my body to hunt boys...I did that with my eyes. The very intense gaze I naturally had, drew men I was attracted to, quite well. Even without display, men could see I was not built like the proverbial brick  outhouse.... I held my own just fine, thank you...and me and that coat wandered on many hunts for men, a fact that I am not proud of, considering the huge cost  expended to my spirit. This was simply an exercise in raw power, hidden under all that fabric...that had most definitely a negative repercussion on down the road.

MY point in all this is to say that coats have always been a type of refuge for me, a place of hiding.

In the pitch of my 1970-71 Senior year of high school, in the terrible grief of loss of both Mom (stroke) and brother (Vietnam), I was a mass of sorrow and rage. I made a blaze of long dark blue cloak of heavy navy wool, again overwhelming to my small frame. I stalked in that cloak, hid 100% and did no display of body whatsoever. The cape was my traveling cave immersed in a volcano. People got out of my way when I wore that cape...but alas, no love was founded while I wore that sorrowful covering.

So much of the core female template of 2022 is DISPLAY and the pursuit of "sexual freedom."  What a torment, from one who survived that mess back in my youth. All lies, all shambles, all a sales pitch from the devil himself, the father of lies. 

I guess I am my Dad's daughter, as I clearly remember a classic topcoat my Dad had.  When I once questioned him about that classic stylish long coat, he said " I wore that when I was out looking for something to sleep with."

Classy, Dad.

Not good. The rascal that he must have been, he was likely not a tender man with women, including my Mom who did not stay married to him.

From the wounds of my youth and my blunt persona, I still seek solace and covering my physical self in layers of fabric. Never will I be on display, despite my lifelong love of fabric and garments. I do love style, I just prefer to be mysterious and more on the line of the mental rather than the physical. This is why I am drawn to modest clothing. When I returned to God after many years of wandering from my Christian roots, I still clung to the refuge of covered clothing.

The power of modesty can be a balm to the battered soul. The healing hand of God and His Son also brings a cooling to the raw desires of human beings, especially when trammeled in difficult pursuits of the carnal. 

At age 70, I know God is a lover of beauty! Fabric, texture, shape, He expressed that in His masterful Creation of the Earth, a staggeringly beautiful planet.  Fabric is a weaving of beauty and can be a healing place to soothe the savage spirit and to humble our self  before the mighty hand of God.

Being circumspect in dress is an honor to God.  Being "sexy" can be reserved only for a woman with her husband, as God designed the complimentary opposites of male and female.  Clothing is a reflection of our soul...and I see a great need for healing of us all, self included.

Wendy Williams   Dec. 29, 2022

Can women’s garments be displayed without seduction??  Can the female form be presented without being in overt DISPLAY?

In my researching of women's garments over the centuries, in ancient times there was core practicality as rudimentary animal skins were placed over the head and tied with more animal skins or plant material. Basic protection fron the elements and useful needs were paramount. Gradually there were years of greater display of "status" or hierarchy or placement, as garments covering female bodies have shifted from core survival and protection from the elements, to profound showing off of the upper classes.  Humble clothing remained relatively presented with less “fripperty” or decor and remained focused on work elements and practicality.

As a mostly introverted woman and an Elder, age 70, I have also mostly resisted the urge to show off my female form. I do not desire to be on display. While I do not want to be dowdy, I have kept my focus on modesty, comfort and what I call "sublime utility."  Even while I love the beauty of Haute Couture, I simply do not abide the demand for sometimes vulgar or irrational display of private female form. Our society has devolved into chaos and the tearing down of the natural modesty of the feminine spirit and I am not participating.

As a writer, I am always in a pile of paper for research and study. In going through my many fashion magazine photos collected from many years and gradually reducing the overwhelming collection to less of a pile. one two page story has woven a lovely spell over me for several days. It is from a Vogue magazine from 2009 (back when Vogue was classy) and features a magical and expensive dress that is: not short, not tight, shows no cleavage and has no loud display. The society lady describes an amazing dress made in "double crepe shantung silk the color of vanilla ice cream." The dress is knee length, with a full skirt and small waist, bracelet length sleeves, wide boat neck and an added petticoat to make the full skirt stick out. This is not a loud dress but has absolutely captivated my spirit, as I read her description of the garment over and over and over again. There is something so powerful about what I call "sublime understatement."  This dress, even though quite expensive at nearly $5000, is worth every penny. It is beautifully created by a high end designer, with luxurious fabric, created lovingly with modesty and subtle decorum, and yet is poetic to the max. My spirit soars in seeing even a smidgen of this dress, as it  resonates so much with my poetic and sensitive soul. No overt feminine display, no showing off, not a vulgar bone in its body, this dress is a potent, positive power piece. If I had a high end event and was in shape....and had the funds, I would buy and lovingly wear this magical garment. This shows the immense power of simply being quiet, kind and not screaming for attention via a crass garment. Granted, one would have to be a formidable woman to wear such a dress…but the statement rests.

Magic is NOT display, "look at me" demands, uncouth behavior or the dreaded "slut template." It is incredible quiet restraint, anchored by gentility and decorum and pure unadulterated poetic intensity. I long for this in garments, as this lady only need to put the dress on, without tons of overdone accessories, only diamond and emerald earrings, hair and make-up and lovely, classy mid-high slender heels. This was not a show-off dress and yet I feel certain it would have stood out in a room of LOUD.

I crave the genteel, the respectful, the most excellent power of understatement. Our culture in 2022 is in DESPERATE need of this. This is a pure reflectino of God and His love of true beauty!

WW   11-3-2022

Why not flaunt it? Why not show all your assets? Why not display your female empowerment? Display to WHOM? Those who love and respect you? Likely not…

In my nearly 70 years of living (to Nov. 2022), I have seen both sides of this argument. The more women push for “equality”, the less it seems to manifest for both female and male. Arguments, stridency, anger, strife, chaos roams at will in modern USA. Any attempt at slowing down the rampant trainwreck is soundly dismissed as “sexist” or anti-female.

I have been in the trenches with all this, through the pit of the sexual revolution of my youth and I can reasonably say this is incorrect.

This is a huge festering mess that pours out onto innocents (little kids) and trashes many lives. Flaunting your physical self before the profane does not empower in any way. This does not denigrate sexuality but rather places it into the sacred arena God made for husband and wife. “Organs of reproduction” are for reproduction first, as that is their core function in all living beings. After that core function is defined, the joining of male and female further creates the “one flesh” that God speaks of . Since I have not been formally married, nor had children, I cannot speak for certain elements of this. I can, however, speak from the very painful repercussions of intemperate living, which I was at one time, a sorrowful expert. I learned the hard way and hence, my words of gentle warning from a battle-scarred veteran of many sexual partners, both male and female. It is not innocent!

I will be sharing ahead, my blunt experiences and what I actually mean by “modesty.”

As a woman of God and follower of Christ and returned wounded Prodigal who wandered away from God for 35 years, I have seen both sides. I would not return to the "faux freedom” for any price. God’s ways are better. I will be returning soon with shared ideas of what modesty means and the reason for it.

Thanks to all who consider my hard-won learnings, gathered from the midst of the storm of modern life in USA.

For now, goodnight,

Wendy