Purity Culture vs. The Curvy Woman

By Leah Watkins

Ahh, yes, purity culture. From the knee-length jean skirts to the purity rings worn by the Jonas Brothers, it has been a confusing and frustrating journey. By definition, purity culture is the abstinence of premarital sex, arousal, and dressing modestly. While I do agree with waiting to have sex (albeit being VERY difficult, and there should be more grace and discussion, but that’s for another post), you can’t stop sexual arousal due to it being biological, and you can’t ignore sexual build-up in the adolescent. But my real beef with purity culture today is the modest dressing, mostly because I could never do it.

Now, when I say I could never do it, I don’t mean I was walking out of my house half-naked. My mom worked very hard to show me how to present myself in what I wear and say. What I am referring to is my shape. Being a black woman comes with the perks of curves. I used to think it was a curse. I felt that God designed my body to be too much because I didn’t look like my less curvy peers. I would wear the same jeans as my classmates, and I would get the phrases “You got a black girl booty” or “Leah, we always laugh because you have no waist, then BAM, your booty!” from my friends. What my friends were describing as “slim thick” was interpreted as I needed to hide my curves so they wouldn’t call them out. Also, if you couldn’t tell, my school was predominantly white.

When I entered college, I was excited about the possibility of more diversity. I joined a Christian club, led worship, and made new friends pretty quickly. But, because of how my college was, diversity was still a slight challenge. I was still met with similar comments. “Leah, I could never fill out an outfit like that.” “Ugh, you're so brave when it comes to your style you just don’t care!” Brave? For wearing a dress? Interesting. I don’t think I’ll be getting a purple heart for filling out a dress. I always hated the twinge of resentment in their tone. Because I did care, I just couldn’t hide my curves, and by this point, I didn’t want to. I loved my shape and knew that God created me in His image. I was still respectful in my wardrobe, and if anyone had a problem, it was on them.

When bathing suits would come into discussion, I would get asked what I felt comfortable wearing. When I said a two-piece, I got weird stares.

“I couldn’t wear one because I would be showing too much skin, and I don’t want to draw attention from guys.”

To which I responded:

“I get it! But for me, everything “falls” out anyway, even in one piece. No matter what I do, I will have some cleavage, and I don’t like wearing shorts because of the way it cuts into me. It’s just how I’m shaped, and I can still be modest. Also, I get looked at even when I’m in sweats or jeans. I’ve been getting catcalled since I was 14, and I just deal with it.”

Silence. Then, they changed the subject. I had unintentionally struck a nerve for two reasons. 1) I challenged their thought process by saying I didn’t care. 2) I spoke openly about the male gaze and made them uncomfortable. They never wanted to consider that men looked at women no matter what they were wearing. For them, their clothing offered a kind of control that saved them from what the “unmodest” girls experienced. Catcalling, sex, or even assault couldn’t happen if you dress a certain way. It was a safety mechanism. 

When I entered my husband’s church and began to experience the same reactions, I finally figured out what I needed to say: “Thank you, and you can wear this too!” I meant every word. Because they could wear whatever they wanted. It threw them off slightly, but it was still a better reaction than in college. When I speak on this topic, I am not only talking about black women. All curvy women of any race have experienced this treatment. It is the same for women who are not curvy. As humans, we all look at what we find attractive, and that’s ok. It’s natural and means your body is working properly. What’s not ok is making someone feel uncomfortable about their body, male or female. Celebrate the body God gave you, no matter how it looks! Lastly, curvy women in the church, I see you. I’m with you. Keep being you, wear your cute outfits, and fill out those dresses. You’re outfit might have a few dips and hips, but that does not mean you aren’t modest. You are beautifully created, and your curves are special. Trust me, my husband has NEVER complained about them.

Until Saturday, friends! Comment your thoughts below and let me know your brain thoughts. Kyrie Elieson— Lord, have mercy upon us.