Last weekend, I went into Mount Vernon to the bowling alley with my Greek organization. In the midst of attempting to organize games for over thirty people, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a woman smiling at me, probably my grandmother’s age. I smiled, anticipating questions about Kenyon College. Instead, I heard these words come out of her mouth.
“Did you look at yourself in the morning when you got dressed?” She continued to smile sweetly as she told me I was dressed like a slut, that if she were my grandmother she would never let me out of the house looking like that, that I should rethink my intentions when I get dressed. Needless to say, I was completely and utterly shocked. The first thought that ran through my mind was “I’m so glad that that woman actually isn’t my grandmother.” In fact, I decided to call my mom after my Mount Vernon outing. I was upset, and when she asked which skirt I was wearing I described my outfit to her. She laughed—she knew that skirt and turtleneck and said she was sure I looked cute.
I grew up in a household where my mom embraced my fashion choices and guided me to learning how to dress myself appropriately while still teaching me that objectification was never my fault. In my high school, girls were humiliated into changing into their gym shorts if the school counselor deemed their shorts too short or their shirts too tight. We had several all-girl meetings with the vice-principle about how to dress appropriately, even though we were in Southern California where it is constantly warm and sunny. As a camp counselor, I constantly have the difficult time of picking out a swimsuit that won’t be too chesty so that I can keep up with my campers. Needless to say, clothing choices are always on my mind. I’m aware that the attitude on Kenyon’s campus is vastly different that that of Mount Vernon, and consequently, it’s always a culture shock leaving our college on the hill. However, I’m tired of being told how to correctly be a woman. I’m tired of wondering whether my skirt is too short, if I’m giving off the wrong impression, if I’m asking for unwanted attention. While all my friends assured me that they didn’t think that I was dressed inappropriately, this grandmother’s words still troubled me.
Outside of our liberal arts haven, the world is still backwards. This election and Trump’s policies show it. I wish that I could just laugh it off and say that that woman was being horrible, but she wasn’t. Her tone was concerned and she genuinely thought that I would was “asking for it” in my outfit.
I thought that this exchange was food for thought in how divided thought processes are right now in the United States. Women shouldn’t be told that their outfits are open invitations for sexual assault. Abortion rights shouldn’t be argued against. We need to stop worrying about the societal role of a woman. Moreover, we need to start simply treating each other better. We need to be better.
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