Several weeks ago a program appeared on the History Channel regarding the Civil War period of the 1860s in Nashville, TN. Prostitutes were licensed for the first time and were dubbed, "Public Women." I suppose public meant that any who chose to use them could compared to the private women men kept at home.
Last week previews for Victoria's Secret Fashion Show appeared on many channels. I was appalled by all of those private garments on public display and the almost naked bodies of the models. When I last saw a Miss America Pageant, each contestant had to appear in a one-piece bathing suit [what we consider a public garment]—those girls were fully clothed in comparison to the VS models—what a contrast in modesty.
When watching a rerun of “Coal Miner’s Daughter,” the life of Loretta Lynn, I was reminded of my high school days of the 60s where “Christian” and Mormon [LDS] girls wore jewel necklines and elbow-length sleeves on their long gowns; Miss Lynn wore those frothy, lacey and lovely “Gunny Sax” dresses—such femininity and such beauty in those long covered up dresses. Those covered girls were just as lovely as those girls in their strapless and spaghetti-strapped gowns—after all, isn’t a formal dance an acceptable place to display a little flesh? But what did all that lovely display and close dancing to romantic music [yes, it was still romantic—not acid rock and heavy metal then] lead to—how many girls of your acquaintance became pregnant on prom night? And can those escorts be castigated for succumbing to all that feminine allure—isn’t that what the VS models and prostitutes set out to do, but to lure our men into licentiousness?
All of the public display of what ought to be private makes me want to cover not only my hair but all of my body—to take a private stand against public women.