As an older priest in retirement, I’ve found this an interesting thread. I must confess, it has brought back many varied memories
Firstly, of my mother. She was talented regarding clothes and she designed many of the outfits that I remember so vividly although she’s been gone many years
Before fashions changed, she was quite conventional. There was a dress length for day wear and one for formal wear. Many of her outfits were along the lines of what the Queen wore then and still wears today
http://cdn.images.express.co.uk/img/dynamic/78/590x/secondary/pope6-467193.jpg
Which brings me to my first comment. A person should choose what they’re comfortable with…be it pants, dress, skirt…and wear it. But if one’s
conscience would not allow one to wear something that is not ankle length or almost ankle length, then that would be problematic; there are many consecrated Religious whose habits are not of that style. As I say, if it is a matter of one’s sartorial preference, that is what it is – but it ought not be a matter of conscience
Anyone who would say the Queen above or the Religious below are not modestly and appropriately dressed should be treated as mad
https://i.pinimg.com/736x/51/c2/5e/51c25efcb476ad7fa530d6b207c079b1--the-sisters-st-francis.jpg
In the years after the war, it became more and more acceptable for women to wear slacks and my mother was at the vanguard of that movement. She greatly preferred them and found them more comfortable; they were more her style. By the era after the Council, she had set aside wearing dresses entirely. Church was the last place she wore one. My mother wore her pantsuits to the end of her life and she was the very portrait of femininity and of modesty
As a spiritual director, I was consulted on fashion issues; it was always women who had become tertiaries of one of the secular orders and it concerned how to incorporate their life as a tertiary – which was very important to them – into their wardrobe without, however, appearing to portray themselves as Religious. Since I’d worked with Religious in one of my roles for years, it was easy for me to answer. I was always glad that the lady was happy and we never came up against any parameter that I would have to say, that’s a step too far
Which brings me to another comment. One of the disturbing things I’ve encountered as a spiritual director is the recent profusion of the sense of being “called”. It is of course a real thing, fundamental to the theology of vocation. I’m called to be…a priest, a monk, a Sister, in the married state, to remain in the world. I’m called to serve the poor, to be a deacon, be involved with ministry to the sick and dying. Even I’m called to be an adorer of the Blessed Sacrament and thereby assist the perpetual adoration programme
But for what is transitory and ephemeral by its nature is another matter. On any given day, whether I wear my cassock is a decision I own. On the other hand, I’ve never liked denim. I don’t wear it, even for digging in the garden. I own that decision, too. God has not asked me not to wear denim; I look at them and choose to wear another type of work attire
Which brings me to my final reflection. I remember Padre Pio. I know even better the milieu from which he came. He was a man of his time. Some decades before he was born, St. Alphonsus died. Alphonsus had the custom of never looking a woman in the face as an act of modesty and custody of the eyes; I remember this story vividly from my days of study for the priesthood. Even then, we were told this really belongs to a different era. It would be a poor practice for us – as seminarians and later as priests – and it would seem eccentric in the extreme for our contemporaries in the 20th century
Whether it was Alphonsus, who was born in the 17th century and died in the 18th, or Pio, born in the 19th and died in the 20th, one has to bear in mind that mores change over time. Pio came of age in what was, in the English speaking world, the end of the Victorian era and then the Edwardian era. That style of dress today would be a costume and those manners affectation. Even what my mother wore in the 1940s would, today, be worn by historical re-enactors.
Having looked at what you posted, I would suggest the comments you’ve received from peers are along those lines. If your fashion choices are of one type exclusively, the comment can be simply the suggestion that something else may be more flattering and in keeping with your age.
I had the same thing happen to me as a young priest. There was a style of sweater I wore. It was a vintage style. A lady in my diocese, whom I had known for years, delicately brought up one day that the style really did not suit me. It made me look much older and evoked another era. I thanked her kindly and told her that it was a style I really liked for various reasons.
It was comfortable, warm and I liked those sweaters in a way I did not care for others. I owned the fact that she was right: they were out of fashion, did make me look older, it was an eccentric choice.
But I wanted to wear them. That may be your ultimate situation as well
No one should be drawn to or away from God because of a person’s attire. But, if while wearing said attire, we communicate that what we are wearing has some sort of religious or moral significance, or worse superiority, people can certainly formulate a thought and an opinion based on that
