Mood:  flirty

My missionary friend had just come back from Mexico. We talked about the cultural differences and getting used to life in Canada. He noticed that he had to "pause and reflect" before he went outdoors. In Mexico, he never gave a thought to the weather before he went outside. I noticed that Mexicans require much less personal space. My missionary friend reflected while innocently cuddled side-to-side on a park bench. I love talking to friends from the tropics, too, because of my own homesickness for the West Indies.

The markets are so different than in Canada. You are expected to barter. When a white person enters the market, the prices rise in a wave before them. It is assumed that if you are a tourist, you can afford the markup. This was a problem for my missionary friend, a nordic blonde, as he was living as a native and had no more income than the people he was serving. He got in to the habit of bringing one of his native-born daughters along. As soon as his girls started chatting in the native dialect, the merchant relaxed. And relaxed the price.

People are more relaxed when they are with their own, an identifiable group. When you attend a gathering as an outsider, it helps to do what you can to "fit in". If you dress like a native, people you meet will likely be more relaxed and treat you more like their own kind. My first, dramatic, visit to a Kingdom Hall certainly bore this out. I'll give you the back story to set the scene.

I and my Jehovah's Witness husband had married months before, the culmination of a three-year courtship. While I was dating Art he had started studying with the Witnesses. He chose to keep our relationship a secret. He did try "testing the waters" a couple of times, confessing that he was dating a non-JW but each time he received a firm warning that scared him off from bringing it up again. So we married quietly, with my parents and my children, my granddaughter and the Justice of the Peace. After we were married I told my husband he had to come clean at the hall. I was tired of being treated like an embarrassing secret. He kept putting it off. The last time he'd brought it up, he lost two night's sleep over it. He had told the elders he'd prayed about it and was content to leave his fate in Jehovah's hands. The elders had replied, "What makes you think that Jehovah hears your prayers?" So we continued our early married life in limbo. He continued going to the Kingdom Hall, and I went to my church half a block away.

We were quickly heading for a collission, though. The elders were talking about granting my husband more responsibility. I warned Art that he would be deceiving these Elders and lying to the Holy Spirit if he continued in this lie. Still he put it off.


The final straw, I am ashamed to admit, came on a day I was a woman scorned, aggrieved and neglected. Art had put off my amorous advances that morning. Even though he knew I was a simmering cauldron of feminine misery, he chose that morning to pretend that I would peacefully let it pass, if he ignored me long enough. So I made my decision. I dressed carefully, did my hair up nicely, and put on a full application of war paint. I asked him to drop me off at church on his way to the hall, our regular pattern. He dropped me off at the rear entrance, pecked me on the cheek, and drove off to his own service. I watched him drive out of sight. Then I picked up my heels and trotted off to the Kingdom Hall myself. I walked in shortly before the service was to begin, located my husband, and sat myself beside him. The look on his face satisfied my burning desire for justice. He whispered furiously if I might sit somewhere else. "No way, I am your wife," I answered. In a panic, he ran to the back of the hall to request an emergency meeting with the elders. His moment of truth had come, the elders would know about me.

I came to this first Kingdom Hall meeting dressed to fit in, even though I was a complete stranger to the ladies there. During that first meeting a few ladies confided some of the local gossip, assuming I was the wife of the visiting speaker. I learned a lot about the plans to renovate the hall. Word was out within the week of course, and I never had such a candid conversation again. It was fun while it lasted.

Context:
When you do get together with the Jehovah's Witnesses, either at the Kingdom Hall or informal gatherings, dressing like them can help them relax, help them to be more open, and help you fit in.

Problem:
You don't want to be treated like "fresh meat" or a "worldly person" or even worse, a "pagan" when you first visit the Kingdom Hall.

Forces:
Your partner may also want you to "fit in" with the "clean living" members of the Kingdom Hall.
You may feel like rebelling at times - why do you have to conform? You don't of course, and there may be times that you choose to overtly rebel to preserve your individuality. If you treat the dressing up as a way to appease the natives, and not a reflection of your true nature, the dressing up can be made tolerable, even fun.

Jehovah's Witnesses are more relaxed when they are around people who dress and act like them.

Essence of the Solution:
To fit in at a JW gathering, dress conservatively, as if you were attending a business meeting or a funeral.

More about the Solution:
I have the advantage of having a full wardrobe that fits the JW standard for modesty. Their standards are very similaer to any evangelical church that bought in to the "holiness" movement in the seventies. For those of us who lived through it, Christians attempted to set themselves apart from the "world" by dressing differently than the "world". The holiness movement also affected makeup, reading, music, and recreation. The holiness movement inspired book burning, record burning, and measured skirt hemlines. I am certain the Jehovah's Witnesses got caught up in this movement as well, and though the rules are gone, there is still a strong standard for dress and appearance for both men and women. Also, Rutherford, the former president of the Watchtower Society, wished it's representatives to dress themselves in a clean and decent manner when presenting their literature at the doors. This tradition continues to this day.

Men:
Clean-shaven
Hair well trimmed above the collar
Suit or sports jacket with dress slacks
Dress shirt and tieTie
Dress shoes
Portfolio or suitcase
No: dreadlocks, tattoos, body piercing, "soul patch", beards, jeans, turtleneck sweaters, sneakers, hair coloring other than natural colors.

Women:
Hair - streaks OK, but no unnatural colors.
Makeup OK, modestly applied.
Dress, suit-dress, or blouse/sweater and skirt
Skirt, short slit only. Length below the knee is best.
Button collar one higher than you are used to.
Nylons, dress shoes
Usually don't bother with a hat or other formal head-covering.
No: dreadlocks, tattoos, body piercing, slacks/jeans/pants of any kind, sneakers, hair coloring other than natural colors.

Resulting Context:
Congregation members have gone so far to mildly accuse me of "fooling" them. As far as possible, be honest regarding your stand regarding the JW's. Your goal is to put them at ease, not to creep them out. If asked where I have come from, I usually respond, "My husband attends XXX congregation."
You may get fed up with fitting in,and have an overwhelming desire to express yourself. If you are at the point where individuality must express yourself, do it! Once in a while I wear slacks. Nothing terrible happens, I'm not expelled or anything. When I do wear slacks though, it does mark me as an "unbeliever", and I am treated more like "fresh meat" than "interesting stranger".
Your partner may demand that you fit in. I don't have this problem, as I usually dress conservatively anyways, and my husband is very accommodating. I always ask before we go if I look OK.

Known Uses:
Dress up for a visit to the Kingdom Hall, conventions and assemblies to keep the JW's at ease.