Bring on the Ts!

Yesterday I had the pleasure of eating Shabbos lunch with a family whose acquaintance I made recently. They are a fave of mine already due to their refreshing take on Brooklyn frumkeit, i.e. we concur on the topic. :)

After lunch, the hostess and I retired to the couch in order to talk away the afternoon, as has become our custom. She then reminded me of a tznius point that I had long forgotten, due to my current surroundings.

Next year her daughter is entering a modern high school out-of-town. Her daughter is thrilled that she can now wear shirts to the elbow and show her collar bone. I then recalled how, when I was returning to frumkeit after my time off the derech, I had a conversation with a fellow shul-goer who was "notorious" in the community; she was an FFB, had been raised ultra-chassidish, and became modern as a result. She would, in fact, turn up at shul in short sleeves, and despite the shul being full of fry yiddin (who everyone knew wore shorts the rest of the week- men and women alike), people went tsk-tsk.

In short, yesterday's conversation triggered my recall that she once gave me a beautiful short-sleeve shirt and told me that there are different definitions of tznius. I had worn the short-sleeve shirt on a few occasions (it had a very conservative line and fell halfway to the elbow), but sensing the community's disapproval, I stopped wearing the offensive item. My biggest concern at that period in my life was the concept of tznius that one should blend in with the rest of the community, i.e. the point of tznius is to not stick out, whatever your surroundings. That is actually the same reason why, while I initially worn hats post-Marriage #1, I started wearing a sheitel when attending a Chabad shul.

Anyhow, my new friend reminded me that the minimum standards of tznius are as follows:

• Armpits must be fully covered at all times
• The top of knees must be covered when sitting down
• Closed shoes can be worn without stockings/socks
• Open toe shoes should be worn with at least an ankle sock, if not more.

I gave a very hearty mental cheer, let me tell you. Especially given the current heat wave.

To be fair, I was wearing stockings over Shabbos, because I had expected to visit an ultra-Yeshivish friend of mine, and I wanted to respect her standards. In short, I am not advocating rocking the boat and wearing something deliberately to rebel and make others uncomfortable. I would not, for example, go stocking-less to a Yeshivish school or Yeshivish host/hostess. That would be disrespectful and, in turn, completely inappropriate behaviour.

But having been reminded of a minimum that I can live with, I do not see why I need to hold to a more stringent standard when I go about my business. Shopping, visiting modern/open-minded friends, lounging at home, etc.- under such circumstances, I should be allowed to wear the minimum.

To put it differently, I will respect your standards when I am in your home. Therefore, please respect my standards when you encounter me on the street/in my realm.

Now, who wants to go with my to Conway to check out their collection of killer graphic Ts?

Resumes and What Not

It would seem that more than on Rav at the yeshiva is involved with shidduchim. In fact, during his last stay in America, none other than the top poo-bah spent several hours of his (and my) time contacting one donor whose children are "in shidduchim".

One email that was involved in this mission included on those "resumes" that I had kept hearing about the last 4 years. A question that had always plagued me was, what type of resume could a 19 year-old have? What exactly were the contents of such a resume? Well folks, that there mystery was solved today.

It turns out that these all-important documents, which parents put together with much heartfelt anguish and concern, contains nothing more than:

• a list that includes the names and ages of the shidduch's family members (mother, father, siblings),
• a description of the child's personality and core middot, and
• a few quotes from people who know the child describing him/her

Given my (extensive, lol) experience with both dating and shadchanim, I was left with the strong impression that "the resume" was a wasted exercise. What is the relevance of this document? What information of value does it provide the reader? Yes, understanding where the child fits in the family is good information. And yes, it certainly is feel-good to have acquaintances say complimentary things.

But in the end, how much better do you really know the given person by having read this two-pager? So while I understand that the purpose of the document is supposedly to provide a summary of the "boy" or "girl" so that one can evaluate them for a potential match, I would have to weigh in by saying that unless more details of substance are added, one needn't lose too much sleep over their resume.

Because at the end of the day, they all read the same anyway. And isn't that the point? We wouldn't want our son or daughter to sound unique, after all! ;)

No Slits! Bare Calves!

Since my recent move, I found myself making the acquaintance of several new families, B'H'. And while I certainly love ad infinitum my existing roster of friends, I have been feeling the need to be more sociable and expand my social network. You know- become known in my new neighbourhood.

So there I found myself the last days of Pesach at yet another new family and was being my usual chatterbox self. In attendance was a large family, all 3 generations of them. I was busy playing Jewish Geography with the grandmother ("Do you know so-and-so from X community?"), who was attired like a real Bubbe: calf-length skirt and matching grandmotherly blazer, tights, and orthopedic shoes. In the midst of our tossing names/places around, I mentioned that when I lived down south, the communities were very open/accepting. Case in point, one Young Israel had a yeshivish Rav, yet the women in his congregation could come with a sunhat and short-sleeves and nobody would blink or comment. I said that such openness wouldn’t fly in Brooklyn.

When the topic ventured into the territory of skirt slits, things got particularly interesting. I noted that I had never understood why, if I had sewn up the slit on a skirt so that the slit is far below the knee, i.e., a few inches from the ankle, the slit was still deemed unacceptable. The Bubbe then crinkled her face into that "I'll be nice and educate you, poor thing" expression. She proceeded to tell me that once, at a shiur, the Rebbetzin had explained that it was because of how the fabric moved (when the skirt features a slit). When she said "moved", the Bubbe gestured with her hands to drive home the point as she gave me a meaningful look.

Did I mention that the long skirt I was wearing had a slit in it? :p

I must admit that it took every ounce of effort in my being to keep from erupting in convulsions of laughter. And then, to add to the carnival, the hostess concurred by proclaiming for all to hear that nobody thinks slits are okay. I think I deserve an award for maintaining decorum under such circumstances. But as a Yekki, when you're a guest in someone's home, the only acceptable reaction to anything is respect and politeness. I am proud that I stayed true to my Yekkish upbringing.

On an ending note, a second tale from the last days. I went to my long-time friend's house, and she was livid. Turns out she had spent the morning running around trying to hear 1. Yizkor, 2. Bircat HaKohanim. During her shul hopping, she wound up at one place where there is a small hallway when you enter the women's entrance with two doors; each door leads to a different shul. The one shul is ultra yeshivish, while the second is modern. Guess which shul she wound up in? Meanwhile, she was steaming mad because when she made it to the yeshivish shul after going to the modern one, the Rav was busy talking about tznius. Her point? That he should lecture to the ladies in the shul across the hall; my friend found it, quote, disgusting that women could go to shul without their legs covered. I was pleased that her daughter reminded her that "that is the type of shul it is", i.e. modern. If you don't like it, don't go there!

And that basically sums up my view of both stories. There are numerous flavours of frumkeit, some more lenient than others. Hold where you want to hold, but do not slam others for holding differently. If you disgree, then think for a moment about how the Beit HaMigdash includes 13 doors? We're a rainbow, y'all, not a shoebox. Let's all act accordingly with achdus and acceptance, and maybe we'll merit to see Moshiach. Today.

Ankle Socks (And Less)

Growing up, as I've mentioned previously, I was modern: I went to public school, wore pants, and spoke to guys. Not that I wasn't frum, mind you. I just wasn't *extremely* frum.

Over Pesach I was at a friend's house when a mutual friend showed up with her kids for some playtime. The said mutual friend was sporting sneakers, ankle socks, and zeh hu. Did that even remotely register with me? Only for me to think that I appreciated her dress code.

I'll save two other tznius stories from Pesach for a separate post, but suffice it to say that I loathe the Brooklyn attitude that if you aren't frum within the narrow confines of what is Yeshivish Brooklyn frumkeit, you're doing something *wrong*. That's a tad sanctimonious, no? Why must everyone fall within a tiny little box? And why is ultra-Yeshivish the only form of yiddishkeit deemed acceptable?

In fact, since I saw Ms. Ankle Socks sporting her bare legs, I must admit the temptation to follow suit. If everyone finds my dress code questionable (COLOUR? ANTI-SACK-OF-POTATOES? HORROR!!!), despite my wardrobe being 100% kosher al pi halacha, I do have a hankering to push the envelope. I'm not going to dress Bais Yaacov-y ever, so everyone else can just start looking the other way, as far as I'm concerned. Ban the "bump", I say. Heck, ban the snood outside the house, while you're at it...

So I'm requesting comments from you all about what you feel the minimum standard of tznius is. How much of the knee must be covered sitting/standing? How much to/past the elbow must the sleeve go? How much hair must be covered after marriage? And, perhaps my personal favourite, where do you hold on the stocking/tights issue? In short, what could a woman be wearing before you start tsk-tsking (not that you should, of course)?

Fire away, people!

Crossroads?

The past several weeks, I've been chomping at the bit to leave New York. Let's be blunt: I'm just plain not cut out for New York, and not in the way I would've expected. The brief version of the story is that my move to New York hasn't been particularly fruitful to date. Sure, I found work and got remarried. We all know how those endeavours worked out. And as I ponder the dating pool (i.e. quantity over quality, with most over-40 men wanting the "Brooklyn experience), my lack of work, and my overall personality, I couldn't see any benefit to staying in New York. And I mean not one.

But then last night I went to a birthday party. It wasn't anything special, just me and about a minyan of other ladies coming together for dinner to celebrate our mutual friend's birthday. And I had a blast. Every last one of those ladies has a story (or several) and is so chilled about their frumkeit that I finally felt like I was in sympathetic company. Now that's not to say that my friends to date haven't been fabulous. They definitely have. The difference lay in the face that save 2 ladies who are from Brooklyn, all of us were from out-of-town and either divorced or on the path to it. So I had people who could really identify with my "out-of-town" mindset, as well as where I happen to be in my life right now. It was quite liberating.

More to the point, I saw how all of these women were walking the line between being frum and living their lives. Unlike many people that I've met in Brooklyn, all of these women were trying to negotiate a life in Yeshivish Brooklyn when they are, in fact, more modern. Quite modern. And I appreciate that as well.
When I returned from the party lat night, I felt better than I had in ages. More to the point, I slept better than I had in months. So when I woke up this morning, I realised a few things.

First, that while I'm so over the prospective dating pool in New York (been there, done that- twice), there is a silver lining to the situation, namely that I can meet a lot of divorced/single women such as myself. Kindred spirits, if you will. Second, that what has been lacking from my life since I moved to New York, for various reasons, is having fun. Forget trying to cram myself into the Yeshivish box. That just not me. I need to go, live my life, have fun, and remain frum while doing so. That's it. Because after all, the only thing my being modern affects at this point is shidduchim, and even there, it's a good thing; I don't want to go get married to another Yeshivish person. That doesn't interest me in the slightest. So, since I don't have children, why limit myself to an existence in a tiny, constrained box for no reason? I mean, I was sitting next to a woman who's shirt keep falling down, and nobody felt the need to point out that we could see her bra. Because we were all fine with it. Say what you will, but my life definitely needs an infusion of that attitude.

I guess what I'm saying is, I may stick around New York for a while and give living my life like I did pre-New York a try. Live my life like I've always lived my life but here in New York. In any event, in the next while, I'm going to have make my decision. And as you all know already, while I'm not necessarily the quickest decision-maker (I like to devote adequate time to weighing all the pros and cons), once I do make a decision, I tend to stick with it. Within reason. :)

Yup, things are finally about to get interesting around here in a good way. Boo-yaaaaaaaaa! ;)

Run Baby!

As you can tell by my recent tweets, I started up running again this past week. Today I made my third run, and this time I decided to up the time to 30 minutes. It's a good thing.

Anyhow, sometimes people are surprised to learn that I used to be very hardcore about running. I mean, I wasn't fanatical, along the lines of those who do the NY marathon, for example. But I was dedicated and ran daily.

It's a funny story how running presented itself as an exercise option, and I figure now is as good a time as any to share the saga. Hope you enjoy!

About 15 years ago, I was at the fitness level of an elite athlete. I trained with the guys, and enjoyed a level of strength, flexibility and endurance that had taken years of a strict physical lifestyle to achieve. And that's when it happened: my trainer told me that the only way I could continue to improve is if I started running; nothing else would do the job any longer.

Now back then, I hated running. I hated the mere thought of it. It seemed inane, and more to the point, all the runners I knew were on the whole rather annoying types. So when my trainer delivered this little message, you can imagine my reaction:

Trainer: You've got to start running. There's no other way.
Me: I don't run.
Trainer: You're going to have to.
Me: I. Don't. Run.
Trainer: Well, we're going to change that.
Me: Keep dreaming.

It's obvious who won that battle. I started running, and true to my expectations, I hated it. I would rather go on the highest level of the StairMaster or the highest incline on the treadmill all day long rather than run for even 5 minutes. I just felt like a moron.

So what changed? I wish I could say. But one day about 6 years ago I decided to start adding intervals of jogging to my cardio. And I suddenly found myself enjoying it. So I began to build up my jogging time until I could jog for an hour. Then I worked on my speed.

Of course, moving to Brooklyn, where running is considered very untznius, put a wrench in my routine. I continued to run indoors, which isn't the most effective method but better than nothing, until the car accident.

Then last week, feeling a bit like a blob, I decided that Brooklyn would just have to get over itself, and decided to give running a trial run. The rest, they say, is history. If any of my female readers is interested in going together for a run, let me know!

Jackpot

Every once in a while, Hashem throws you an undeserved treat.

This past Friday afternoon, I did a bit of shopping online. I picked the standard shipping option, and looked forward to receiving my new long-sleeve t-shirts (in very pretty colours) just in time for Rosh Hashana. Well, this morning, at 10 AM, my doorbell rang and the happy UPS man delivered the said t-shirts into my delighted little hands (why can't the USPS guys be so happy?).

Prior to placing the order, I had contacted Customer Service by phone to ask a few questions, and the phone CSR told me I qualified for $5 off the shipping charges. Since the shipping labels didn't have pricing details, I decided to call the company to see what my credit card had been charged. The CSR I spoke to informed me that not only had I not received the reduced shipping, but that I should have received additional savings on each item. (I still don't know how I qualified for reduced pricing, but hey, I'll take it!) The end result is that I got a refund of $8 on my order.

Now when your Monday morning starts like that... :)

Can't I Just Be Frum?

I heard recently that one of the latest questions that shadchanim ask a girl is whether she sleeps in a nightgown or pyjamas. Supposedly nowadays, as opposed to when I was growing up, the thought is that pyjamas are actually more tznius- despite consisting of pants. Perhaps they mean does the girl wear pyjama bottoms under the nightgown? All I know is my Mom had me sleeping in a nightgown at a pretty young age. And duh I wore something in addition to the nightgown, albeit not pyjama bottoms. So does that make me less tznius?

Which brings me to the point of this post. There I was yesterday, enjoying a little impromptu shopping in NWL, trying to decide whether I am now supposed to be buying PJs instead of nightgowns or in addition to nightgowns. And that's when I reached my limit. Why on earth should I be wasting mental energy trying to decide if nightgowns are now assur? WHO CARES?

It would appear though that Brooklyn cares. A lot. So here comes my question of the hour:

Why can't I just have a relationship with Hashem, without it becoming the business of everyone else in this and every other frummie neighbourhood? Why should anyone feel comfortable enough asking me what I wear to bed at night? How I stack my dishes on Shabbos and/or if I do? If I wear colour or only black and white? As long as I'm shomer mitzvos, show ahavah to my fellow yid, and try to continue to foster my relationship with The Creator, why must I be subjected to the questions/comments/looks?

Can't I just be frum and have that be good enough already?

Right to Set Their Own Rules

Over Shabbos, the conversation turned to some new tznius guidelines implemented in the Satmar community. The items specifically discussed included the decision to ban both shells and "the layered look".

The irony about the latter item was that just this past week I caved, and bought a very sweet, folky t-shirt to wear over my long-sleeve t-shirts. So as I sat there at the table, it was dressed for the very first time in banned item #2. This coincidence/timing actually furthered the conversation, so despite my initial embarrassment, I'm glad in the end that I was dressed as I was.

With regards to shells, it was commented by the women at the table that shells do tend to 1. move around (I suggested pinning them in place), and 2. draw attention to that part of the body, i.e. whatever pieces the shell is filling in, that's where the eye tends to fall. I suppose that the shells in question are of the tank top kind, with regards to comment 1, although I couldn't be certain.

As for the layered look, one woman scoffed (and commented that she liked how I looked in my outfit as proof), but another pointed out that the community has a right to set rules for themselves to follow. As non-Satmar, we can choose to either associate with them and follow the guidelines, or go elsewhere. I thought that was a particularly insightful comment. As for the whole issue of fashion, I can understand it. But then again, I've never been a slave to fashion. I like simple and neat, and am never up on the latest trends. So perhaps I'm not the best one to chime in. I will say that I am not generally a fan of the layered look (in spite of the compliment I was paid, lol), because it tends to look "forced", aka trying too hard to be hip. Again, what do I know?

Anyhow, I found the guidelines to be an interesting discussion point, and I hope I've provided some fodder for further discussion regarding current tznius standards, across communities.

Cynosure: Friends of the Opposite Gender

It's been a looooonnnnnng time since anyone asked my opinion on dating. Given my personal history, can you blame them? But I do have one friend who occasionally seeks my counsel. (Or, to use their words, "WWPCD: What would La Poutine Cachere do?".) The current conundrum facing my erstwhile friend was whether it is appropriate to have friends of the opposite gender if you're dating someone seriously. The foregone conclusion the said friend arrived at was that (surprise!) it's halachically better to abstain from such relationships. The following is my take on the issue.

In my case, I don't buy into the typical frummie adage that all opposite gender friendships de facto carry a sexual undercurrent, since I have personally had purely platonic friendships with men. Yes, there definitely are people out there who cannot think of someone of the opposite gender except in a sexual way, or who cannot refrain from wanting to "keep the door open". However, such people typically give off signals that they feel/think that way, and one should refrain from friendships with such people. Granted, I chose to only be friends with men who do not fall into the above category.

Another point where I differ from the party line is that I don't feel that maintaining opposite gender friendships is counterproductive to maintaining a relationship with one's significant other. Your significant other must always remain your primary relationship, and the focal point of your life. However, I believe that having friends outside this primary relationship is beneficial to that relationship, since one should rely on themselves to address their own "needs", i.e. they should not expect their significant other to be their "everything". As I tell every man when dating, my philosophy is that you are two independent people in a relationship, and is obviously the relationship to which one devotes the vast majority of one's energy. But if you devote all of your energy solely to your relationship without devoting adequate energy to also taking care of yourself, you will inevitably become dissatisfied in your relationship. Indeed, you may come to even resent all the effort you are devoting unless you maintain interests and a sense of independent identity.

Friends are a part of this separate identity, and if your friend happens to be of the opposite gender, that isn't unequivocably a problem. Where such relationships typically become a problem though is where there is either a lack of trust or a lack of self-esteem. After all, if your significant other trusted you implicitly and had adequate self-esteem, such relationships shouldn't fuel any shalom bayis problems.

That said, human nature being what it is, I suppose the rebbeim instituted the party line because people do have trust and self-esteem issues. Consider the party line therefore a pre-emptive measure to prevent potential marital discord. I can certainly respect that. In the end then, you need to hold where you're comfortable. My only caveats are that one should ensure that one isn't giving up such friendships due to trust issues, and that such abstinence will prove fruitful long-term. The goal, to reword, is promote shalom, through whatever avenue works for both you and your relationship with your beloved.

Notes from the Block

Everywhere I have lived "out of town", I have been able to at least visually identify my neighbours, if not also know their names and other pertinent details.

Not so on my block. Save the:

• neighbours one door down
• Chinese family three doors down
  
• elderly Russian lady four doors down (who inexplicably started speaking to me last week after refraining from interacting these past 3.5+ years. [we now wave to each other])
  
• young thug who walks his dog while chain smoking
  
• two Chassidishe boys who gawk as they ride by on their bikes
• block yenta

I have no clue who lives on my block. FYI, all of the identified parties live on my side of the street. That means the other side is an utter mystery.

So it came as not such a surprise this last layl Shabbos when I meet a young lady (Canadian no less!) who lives across the street and only 5 doors down from me. I had NEVER seen her before. That's almost as hilarious as how much she reminded me of myself at that age, down to the style of her skirt. A CANADIAN on my block and I was unaware. What a disgrace!

On a separate but related note, to all my male goyishe neighbours, young and old, the following is for you:

Please, please, please stop exiting your houses without your shirts. That behaviour is just gross. Same goes for shorts. I don't care how fabulous you feel you look (and I suppose, in turn, consider such displays to be a gift to the female population), I'm here to burst your bubble and inform you that the sight thereof is downright gag-worthy. In short, just put a shirt on already, and if you could throw on trousers as well, so much the better! Thought I would get that in before the heat wave this week.

Outlet

Once upon a time, a verrrrry long time ago, I used to be a singer. And by that I mean my choir toured the world, made recordings, and performed with world-renowned symphonies. We were arguably one of the top choirs in the world, if competing against the Manchester Boy's Choir and Vienna Boy's Choir is any indication.

The choir was all my mother the Music Teacher's idea. Because as much as I loved singing, she's the one who decided to "channel" my enthusiasm in the appropriate direction. At least my singing endeavours proved more fruitful than my piano lessons. (Sorry Mom). And like the piano lessons, when I became older, the singing in public went away. You have to do what's tznius after all.

Years of yelling "Sound Speed" in my film production days, not to mention teaching, have left their mark on my current singing ability. My voice is no longer pure as crystal, and my range has shrunk by a few octaves. No longer would anyone be able to proclaim as they used to that I could sing anything. Heck, one recent Shabbos, I even managed to croak when I initially began a song (it was women-only, of course). Yet I still carry my love of music, and go around my house most days singing to myself (quietly, lest the neighbours hear). And I'll admit, I have at least one album of songs in me, if not more. Granted, I wonder how original they might be; they could wind up just being a hodge podge of all the songs I've listened to throughout the years. From time to time, I contemplate recording. At this point, the recording would be to simply give pleasure to my mother, aka my one and only fan. But it would be fun to do.

Then last night, while researching music resources online to make that recording for my mom, I stumbled upon the online karaoke community. I must admit, the thought of karaoke sends me into fits of laughter. I remember when I was lived in Korea how it was a major pastime, along with drinking soju. Let's be honest, for most people, karaoke is equivalent to a bunch of drunkards singing loudly and tonelessly through song after song, unaware of their complete lack of musicality. The whole point of karaoke is not to sing well but to show that you can follow the song in question.

Yet on these online sites, you find quite a few good singers. And given that some of the women post audio-only, versus video, it raises any interesting question about whether recording yourself and putting it up on such sites would be considered tznius. You even have a comment for each recording you upload, so I would think that if a woman wrote "For women only", that might be deemed "kosher".

Now, I am NOT planning on becoming Queen of the Online Karaoke community. Even if I wanted to, my singing just isn't up to snuff to do so. Still, it raised an interesting question for any frummies out there who love to sing and seek an outlet. Maybe the internet isn't so bad after all? :)

Vera Wang Knock Offs!

When I saw Barb Chansky on Shavous, at one point in our conversation the topic turned to her footwear. You see, on that occasion, she was sporting a fabulous pair of pink, bejeweled, Vera Wang "flip flops". Then, on a later occasion, I saw Barb in identical flip flops, but this time in brown/gold. Since earth-toned clothing/accessories are my current obsession, to say that I was dazzled by the latter pair would not be an exaggeration. (Barb, keep up the good shopping!)

Well, Hashem must have decided to throw me a bone. Last night, I was given a present, and it was none other than a pair of knock-offs, in bronze/gold no less, of those Vera Wang flippies. (I believe the party from whom I received the gift purchased them at ShopRite, if you're interested in procuring some yourself). The remarkable part of that story is that I never mentioned Barb's footwear to the person from whom I received the present. I guess the gift was truly bashert.

Alas, I now have a bit of a problem. Since I wear stockings outside the house, does anyone have tips of wearing knee-highs, etc. with flip-flops? I would looooovvve to wear these outside the house. After all, something so pretty should be shared with the outside world. :)

Hair Today...

I had three incidents this week regarding my hair. Since every aspect of a woman's appearance is scrutinized here in Flatbush to ensure she is "up to standard" for tznius purposes, I thought it might be useful to contemplate these happenings. I should stress that all three episodes happened within a 48 hour period, so I guess hair really is important after all.

I was most relieved when my ride came to pick me up and mentioned that she hadn't recognized me for a moment without my sheitel. I was even happier to hear her rave about the colour of my hair, as she used to be in the beauty business, i.e. her opinion counts for something. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that her enthusiasm helped pave the way for a rousing evening, because one always enjoys oneself more when they know their appearance passes muster.

Then yesterday I was at the BPL to pick up my hold, and decided since I had the time to get my new card. When I produced my driver's license, the librarian was thrilled by my picture: "You look so pretty with blonde hair!", she exclaimed, and even called over the other librarian behind the desk to review and concur. Since the blonde hair was in fact a sheitel, I didn't bother to elucidate the disparity between my now dark locks and the fair halo in the picture. I just went with it. I personally also like myself as a blonde, because it reminds me of when I was younger and a perfect example of German colouring. Makes me think of my Daddy too, olev hashalom.

So, two thumbs up in the hair department, and I was feeling really good. And then the third incident happened, which was downright hilarious for its predictability. You may recall my previous mention of the two "standards" ladies in the neighbourhood, one who deems nail polish heinous and gave me a glare when she saw my uncovered head a few weeks ago? The other is equally notorious for her comments on both the sewed up slit in my skirt and my lipstick. In any event, I of course ran into the latter female within a couple of hours of the library incident. Her immediate refrain (after "Hello", to be fair), was "What's with the uncovered hair?". Her response to my explanation? "But don't you have to still cover your hair?".

Now, yes, one could give her the benefit of the doubt, and say that she was truly ignorant for why I might be able to uncover my hair and asked the question out of curiosity. But believe me people, such was not the case. And in my mind, as par for the course with her personality, such questions are necessary to communicate that my choices are unacceptable.

To which I respond, thanks for acting as the tznius police and trying to ensure that I don't wind up in Gehinnom. But you could try to say with more tact, to say the least. Or even better, to wait until you're a true tzeddeket before weighing in with your lofty level of tznius. Because, as we all know from Pirke Avot, until you've walked in someone else's shoes, keep your big pie-hole shut!

Lessons of Nachshon

Having now undergone a full week of unemployment, my mind is level-headed enough that I am forcing myself to do things properly: I daven first thing in the morning, learn when I'm bored, think before I say a beracha about whether I need to use negelwasser, etc. etc. So I actually have a tidbit to share. Pre-Shabbos. Amazing, eh?

When mentioning the offerings that the leaders brought, Ohr Chachaim brings down two interrelated points concerning Nachshon from the tribe of Yehudah:

1. He is only indicated as a leader in the introduction.
2. He is the first to go and provide offerings.

As for the first point, Ohr Chachaim explains that it alludes to Nachshon's supreme modesty/humility, which leads in turn to the second point. Hashem had indicated to Moshe that the leaders should bring their offerings individually, on separate days, in the order of the tribes formations (see It's The Company That You Keep). By extension, that Nachshon came first combined with his great humility demonstrates that the reason for this ordering is in fact his personal merits. When a person provides an offering to Hashem, not only does Hashem consider the physical offering- He also considers the offering of the person themself, namely their spiritual level.

Since physical offerings can vary based on one's material means, I wanted to reiterate a point that I feel relevant to our lives today. Throughout the millenia, the level of prosperity amongst individuals has varied based on what Hashem deems is the requirement for the particular individual. Some people require much in order to feel secure enough to serve Hashem properly, while others do not. More importantly, if one is blessed with wealth from Hashem, the recipient must use that wealth appropriately, aka to serve Hashem by doing for the community. Thus, if one enjoys material prosperity, it is because that person cannot serve Hashem fully otherwise. The money/property in turn becomes the vehicle for the person to learn to value what they have and to help their fellow Jew. One without such material blessings is one who does not need to learn this lesson.

And some from Nachshon's humility and personal merit, we are reminded that all that we have is all that we need, because in the end, Hashem values what we have spiritually above all else.

Good Shabbos!

Baruch Dayan Emet/ Mazal Tov

In the last 24 hours I've heard news worthy of a mazal tov and a Baruch Dayan Emet. SIGH.

First, the good news! I recently got back in touch with a school friend of mine who made aliyah a while back. When we were in school together, I stayed at her house one Shabbos (I was living in the dorm), and had the pleasure of meeting her family. B'H', all but one are now married, and she is a Bubbe many times over. As for her youngest, who reached bar mitzvah the last semester of school, I recall him to be a very sweet, heimshe, bright boy. Well, I'm now officially old, because she emailed me his wedding video. It was a pleasure to behold. P, MAZAL TOV!

This afternoon I caught up with a friend of mine down south. She unfortunately informed me that a mutual friend of ours passed away right before Pesach. She said she had spoken to her two days prior, and our friend was fine and predictably in the middle of Pesach preparations. Then, in a blink, she was in the ER and never made it home. Unbelievable. Leah was so full of life, so outgoing and kind. And just like that- gone. The world has truly lost a good soul with her passing.

In light of these events, I decided I should shelve any grips I may have had throughout the day, and instead focus on feeling gratitude to be alive and well. And that, dear readers, is that. For now.

The Stare

When I left the house this afternoon, I was dressed a tad unconventionally for Flatbush. Not that I was dressed improperly mind you; I had the heavy stockings, sensible shoes, neutral colour, etc. Yet within one block of the apartment, going in the opposite direction to where I might actually meet people I know, I crossed paths with two wives that I know tangentially. One of them gave me a rather blank stare, although that might be attributed to the fact that she was pushing a stroller with her two youngest sons (I think she's up to child #6 at least). The other woman however, is the notorious "standards" lady. When I walked by her, in her Plain Jane sheitel and all-black garb, I got the famous Flatbush stare x 9 million.

Since she was so openly ticked off by my appearance (did I mention I was wearing a glossy lipstick? HORROR!), I decided to take pause and contemplate her reaction. First, I personally found her blatant disapproval inappropriate. Even if I had been dressed completely inappropriately, which I wasn't, what gives her carte blanche to judge me? If a major concept in yiddiskeit is accepting our multiplicity, aka ahavat yisrael, then who cares about whatever "violation" she felt I was committing. If I hold differently than her, why is it acceptable in her mind to stone me with her look? What if I had reacted by becoming embarrassed versus simply offended in my own right?

In short, it was another instance of the typically warped existence that is Brooklyn. It's either the ultra right way or the highway. But what this mindset neglects to note is that there are actually many different types of yiddin in Flatbush. Yes, most of the people in this neighbourhood are yeshivish, but not all. And to expect everyone to act yeshivish is downright insulting, not to mention elitist.

So while I suppose it's all par for the course, I just have to ask what this holier than thou attitude is accomplishing. Yes, we have an obligation to ensure that our brothers and sisters stay on the derech, but without propagating embarrassment or disharmony. And I guess it goes to show that most of the time, those who cling to standards so vehemently are simply hiding behind them. Because if they were deep-down frum, they wouldn't be ticked off by others doing differently than them. Instead, they would choose to reflect on the positive versus the negative, to give proper weight to their fellow yiddin who are, just like them, tzelem elokim.

A Little She-Zam!

I don't what came over me today, but I proceeded to devote the whole day to beauty risk-taking.

First, I woke up and decided that I could and should wash my sheitel myself. Now, despite having previously coiffed a synthetic sheitel- they're practically indestructible, after all- I must admit that to venture into the human hair arena was equal parts stupidity and bravery. But the end result was surprisingly fabulous, thank you very much! In fact, while I'm sure that my friends in the sheitel business would be horrified by the un-poufy nature of the styling, I am very proud to state that I achieved what no sheitmacher had yet achieved in my attempts to have the sheitel styled: I managed to get the darn bangs out of my eyes! And, I must admit that I like the more natural look overall. I'm not Miss "every strand must be perfectly in place" anyway, so I'm pretty thrilled, to say the least. Especially in light of the fact that I was half expecting to ruin the thing. :)

Then, since I did my annual purge of cosmetics post-Pesach (I tend to be very conservative in my expiry estimates; why risk contamination/infection, chasve shalom, if you can just treat yourself to new stock?), I decided to stock up on a couple of eyeshadows. Now you would think, given all the sales on at the various pharmacies, that I would have had zero problem finding a few flattering shades. But alas, I spent more than 4 hours going from shop to shop trying to find a palette that would be neither garish nor blah. Finally, I managed to talk myself into buying 2 trios, and barely got through the door before I ripped open the packages and tried them out. Given that I have unusual colouring (read: dark hair, pale yet warm toned skin, ever-changing eyes), that I had bought green eyeshadow was definitely pushing the envelope. Indeed, I had purchased one of the cheaper brands so that I would only be throwing away $5 or so in case the palette struck out. Yet Hashem decided to let mazel win again (B'H'), and I was shocked by how fabulous all the greens looked on me. Who would've thunk it?

So there you have it. While I don't know what spawned this frenzy of beauty activity, I'm happy to report that all's well that ends well. Sometimes, it really is the small things that count.

Belated Purim Question

Inspired by Barb Chansky (see Barb's World), I had a belated question spawned by Purim.

Having witnessed the usual parade of Esthers and Mordechais, etc. etc. for yet another year, I had to ponder: why don't girls want to be Vashti? When I was a kid, that's what I wanted to dress up as! Esther was so BORING. I mean, why be the Good Witch of the East, when you can be the Wicked Witch of the West??? We all know the WWotW is oh so much cooler than the Good Witch. Why else would "Wicked" be such a huge phenomenon?

But then again, we all know that I'm not exactly the litmus test for what's normal...

They Call It Decorum, Part 2

Since my faithful reader noted the alignment of the Obamas with Kennedys, I figured I should elaborate a bit on my previous post.

To be honest, I was unaware that Jackie Kennedy chose to bare her arms in her official photo. Upon hearing that though, I discovered that in her official portrait she chose to cover her arms. My guess is that the White House recognized the formality due the portrait, but not the photo. Irregardless, in my opinion, her arms should have been covered in her official White House photo as well. Official = formal.

Also, I will give a nod to the fact that informal, sleeveless garb makes the average American woman see the First Lady, whether Jackie and Michelle, as more like them, aka approachable. And I will acknowledge that while it wouldn't be my first choice if I was in their place, during candid press photos and day-to-day affairs, sleeveless may cut muster. But for formal events, official photo/portraits, or meetings with foreign leaders, formal attire is de rigeur. Donning a strand of pearls helps formalize a sleeveless gown. But it is not enough to provide adequate respect when acting in her official capacity as First Lady. Talking to staff in the White House kitchen? Maybe. Playing with her children? Definitely. Meeting Ms. Brown? No, no, and no.

As I mentioned before though, I'm a foreigner. I guess I just don't get it.