Reaction to a Reflection on Head Covering

A charming and thoughtful personal account of one woman's journey with head covering of various sorts.

A couple of highlights, for me:

I was the little girl in the large, floppy hat.

It was called my “davening hat,” and I wore it dutifully every morning during prayer services as a child. Even though I was raised in an Orthodox home, my parents sent me to a Conservative day school starting in kindergarten, and I did quite a few things differently at school than I did at home.

All students, girls included, were required to wear kippotduring our school prayer services. This upset me on several levels. First, I did not want to wear what I recognized so distinctively to be boys’ clothing; gender difference was a particularly sensitive issue when I was at an age when cooties were still relevant. But more than that, I did not like the idea of some obscure (and apparently fickle) religious authority instructing me what I should or should not wear on my head. A healthy spirit of defiance beginning to stir, I went to see the principal, my 5-year-old self sitting across from him at his handsome oak desk, my feet not nearly touching the floor.

Together we came up with an ingenious solution: I could wear a hat instead. But even though we had shaken hands on the idea, my small palm getting lost somewhere in the conciliatory gesture, my flower-emblazoned pink sun hat made me feel silly in the reverent pews of the school sanctuary. The deceptively cheery flower perched front and center did not match the gloomy pout persevering underneath. I felt uncomfortable. The hat made me look different and strange—a blaring sign that a disgruntled kindergartener was flouting communal norms.

This is both a familiar experience for me (without it even involving a separate piece of clothing) and something I both fear and expect for my daughter.  How do I bridge the gap between our family's practice and a world that has smaller and more separate "boxes"?  I grew up often feeling different, and it was hard- but it also made me who I am, in ways that I now think were worth it.  It's an on-going question.  But I appreciated this story.

Ans skipping to the author's adulthood, newly married:

But when I one day chose to wrap a colorful Israeli scarf around my head, similar to the ones my mother always wore, my head covering signaled to the world that I was different. While my teenage-self had blanched at the idea, my adult self wore the look proudly. My scarf was an external sign of oneness with my community.

No head covering is arbitrary—every detail, to the carefully trained eye, is significant.

For me, however, covering my head has evolved from an attempt to appease my community into an effort to belong to my community.

 In other words, a head covering is a symbol of identity- and only feels right if it aligns you, in your own vision, with your perceptions of yourself and who you see as your community.

 

 

A Link, As An Easy Return

I came across this short illustrated guide to Hasidic women's head-coverings, and thought t would be a good way to get back to posting here...

Here it is: Shpitzels, frisettes, sheitls, and more

I'm interested in the differences between the various sorts of small amounts of false hair that are delineated here- especially how restrained false hair is labeled so differently from loose false hair.  I'd love photos as well as the illustrations, but they do make the differentiation very clear.  I partiularly love the note at the end, about wigs: "The last is considerate very liberal headgear in Williamsburg, and women are often asked not to enter a synagogue uncovered."

In the meantime, I've added a new blog project that has been getting a bunch of my attention during the little one's naps- Nursing At Shul, where I'm putting out information that people share with me about breastfeeding in the synagogues they go to.

I've been camera-less for a while, but it has recently been restored to me, so hopefully we'll be back in business" with both photos and textual content.

Halakha of the Toupee, Part 2

R. Moshe Feinstein (March 3, 1895 – March 23, 1986) comments on the halakhic permissibility of toupees, and on their interactions with tefillin.

מי שקרח ראשו אם מוטר להניח שערות זרות ודינם בענין חציצה בתפילין

אני לא שמעתי ששייך דבר כזה שלמי שקרחו שערותיו יהיה שייך שיצמחו שם שערות זרות שיניחו על הראש, ואם איכא דבר כזה היה זה דבר מותר לעשות, ולענין חציצה לתפילין קודם שנצמחו אין זה חציצה כיון שאי אפשר לחסירם וכל מי שאין לו שערות לא יסירם, ואם  ליכא דבר כזה אבל הוא רק דביקת השערות זרות להגוף ע”י דבק נמי כיון שכן ישאר לעולם ורוצה בזה לא יחצוץ לתפילין, ואם הוא פאה נכרית שיכול להסיר בכל עת שרוצה אף שהוא לנאותו שהוא בוש מלגלות ראשו בבהכ”נ יניח את של ראש בלא ברכה וכשיבא לביתו יגלה ראשו ויניח תפילין בברכה

Translation:

Someone who is bald: Whether it is Permitted to Wear False Hair, and the Law in the Matter of חציצה and Tefillin.

I have not heard that a thing like this is possible for someone who has lost their hair- that foreign hair that they place on their head will then grow there, but if there is such a thing, it is permissible to do.  As for the matter of separation (חציצה) for tefillin before they [the hairs] are grown, this is not a separation since it is impossible to remove them, and anyone who does not have hair does not remove them.  And if there is no such thing, but rather he just attaches the foreign hair by means of glue, similarly, since they remain forever, and he wants them- they are not a separation (חציצה) for tefillin.  And if it is a wig that he can remove at any time that he wants, even if it is for aesthetic purposes, and he is embarrassed to reveal his head in the synagogue, he may put on the head-tefillin without a blessing, and when he gets home, he reveals his head and puts on the tefillin with a bracha.  
Commentary:
The first thing that I noticed, in this teshuvah, is that one may delay putting on tefillin in the proper way in order to pray with a minyan without embarrassment (בושה). I would then suggest that this is even more so the case when the issue one is dealing with is tzniut/communal standards rather than individual embarrassment without many religious implications. [A little research into textual views of baldness reveals Mishnah Bechorot 7:2, which disqualifies a totally bald kohen (without even a fringe around the edge of the head) from service in the Temple and Bava Kama 60b, where there is the story of a man with two wives- one plucks out his dark hair and the other plucks out his white hair, leaving him bald. However, these don't give a strong implication of shame or inappropriateness about the baldness itself, although the first does cast it as a מום, an imperfection of the body.]

So a woman who does not want to reveal enough of her hair to put on tefillin with all the relevant pieces of the tefillin touching her hair/head directly could put them on over her covering, as long as she put them on without it either before or afterward, in private. Even when one is comfortable showing that much hair (not actually all that much hair if one is wearing a scarf, once you've practiced a little bit- but plausibly a little more than a tefach according to R. Soleveitchik (the two-finger measure, rather than the four-finger measure... I should really find out where he writes that and share it here, at some point.)), getting the tefillin around one's covering can be complicated, depending on style. The chance to just not worry about it and put on tefillin without the whole arrangement (in my case, with a kippah or cap instead of a scarf) gives an additional option for managing one's day, and for praying in public on a weekday.

It also presents an interesting and surprising interaction between one's feelings and one's halakhic obligations. Now I don't Like davening in the morning without my tefillin, but have definitely put them on before davening, then taken them off and gone to shul, when there's a reason for me to go to a shul/minyan where it would be uncomfortable for me and for the people around me for me to wear them. This is a pretty similar circumstance, and R. Moshe seems quite comfortable with the situation. It's a model of handling conflicting needs- everything gets fulfilled, just with some delay.  It is significant because it treats emotional needs as halakhically significant, in justifying non-ideal mitzvah fulfillment.

It's more remarkable because it's letting someone look like they're fulfilling a mitzvah when they are not, and plausibly runs into an issue of marit ayin. That issue would be more significant for someone wearing a scarf, since a toupee might not be known to be a toupee, while a scarf is obviously not a part of the person. That does detract from my comfort in apply R. Moshe's teshuvah for wearing a tichel with tefillin. It would work better for someone wearing a wig, (who would likely need it more- I don't know how one would manage a wig and tefillin at the same time in a kosher manner).

Neither Fish Nor Fowl?

I came across this quote in the midst of a piece about mikvah, and it resonated with me in a very uncomfortable way.

"At one salon, a woman asked if my husband was home and when I responded no, she sighed in relief and pulled off her sheitl, wig. Women around the living room followed suit, pulling off sheitls, tichels, scarves, and hats, a collective shedding of our inhibitions. This was a safe space to open up and be in solidarity as women."
-http://www.myjewishlearning.com/blog/the-torch/2014/08/27/jewish-women-deserve-better/

It highlights the ways in which I am both part of the Orthodox community and in which I am specifically not.  I too would not remove my scarf if the host's husband were home- but without knowing in advance and packing a kippah or cap of some sort, I'm not going to take part in that collective intimacy of relaxing from the public face of hair covering- because I don't have a way of covering my head without my tichel on.  The issue is only accentuated since I presume some of this was a discussion of Torah, about which I feel even more strongly about doing with a covered head.

I don't think I've ever actually been in one of these situations.  But the thought of spoiling some sort of connection, or being excluded from it, because I am fulfilling two different Jewish values with my covering, is painful.  Yes, it's a pair of choices that I made- but out of a sincere attempt to follow halakha diligently.  Changing my mind would be a rejection of that.  But it can be something of a lonely place.

Wigs and Men, or Halakha of the Toupee, Part 1

I forget quite how this one came to my attention, but it's Jewish head covering, of a less-than-frequently-discussed variety.  Having built all that excitement (and as you saw from the title), the question is about men's toupees.  Namely: how do you wear tefillin if you wear a toupee?

Clearly, you can see the connections to women who wear tichels/scarves, sheitels/wigs, hats (hats), etc and still want to put on tefillin in a public space.  This stuff can get tricky to accomplish, so what does the halakha have to say about it?  Does the tefillah shel rosh have to touch the head?

The Mishnah Brurah (27:16, commenting on Shulchan Arukh 27:4 "Nothing should make a separation (חציצה) between the tefillin and your flesh, whether the tefillin for the hand or the head", and the Rema: "This is specifically about the tefillin, but one does not need to be careful about the straps") considers the question, and gives the following comment:

אין להקפיד - והאחרונים כתבו דאין להקל רק במקום הכריכות אבל מה ששייך להקשירה יש להחמיר אף ברצועות בין בשל יד ובין בשל ראש וכתבו תוכחת מגולה על המניחים התפילין ע"ג פאה נכרית הנקרא פארוק"ה ואפילו אם רק הרצועה מונח על הפאה נכרית. ומ"מ משמע מדברי המ"א והח"א דאם יש לו מכה בראשו ורק במקום שהרצועות מונחים ולא במקום הקציצה מותר לו להניח הרצועות ע"ג סמרטוטין שעל המכה או ע"ג כובע דק ולברך אע"ג שיש חציצה בין הרצועות כיון דבמקום הקציצה אין חציצה וכן בשל יד אם יש לו מכה אפילו במקום הקף הקשר שסביב ידו מותר לו להניח הקף הקשר ע"ג סמרטוטין ולברך אך בזה יזהר לכסות מלמעלה כדי שיתקיים לך לאות 

ולא לאחרים לאות:

Translation:
One does not need to be careful: And the Achronim wrote that one only needs to be careful in the place where they come together.  However, since it is pertinent to the knots, one should be stringent also with the straps, both for the tefillin of the hand and of the head.  And they wrote a clear rebuke about wearing tefillin over the foreign hair called a perukeh (i.e. a wig), even if only the straps rest on the false hair.  And in any case, we learn from the words of the Magen Avraham and the Hayei Adam that if one has a wound on his head and it is only in the place where the straps cross, and not where the tefillin itself sit, it is permissible to wear a rag or a thin hat, and to bless (upon putting on the tefillin), even though there is a separation (חציצה) between the person and the straps, since there is no separation where the tefillin itself sit.  Thus too for the tefillin of the hand...

Comment:
This halakha seems to be somewhat self-contradictory: why should it be okay for straps to rest on bandage, but not on a wig?  Perhaps it is because the bandage is temporary and prevents pain (and possibly blood getting on your tefillin straps), while the wig is likely on-going but more easily removable.  [A historical note: the Mishnah Berurah's author lived from 1839 to 1933, so late for men to be regularly wearing wigs, even when he was young.]

On the one hand, the Shulchan Arukh on its own would seem to open up the wearing of tefillin with the straps over a wig or other covering, as long as one was careful not to let anything come between oneself and the tefillin.  However, the Mishnah Berurah is considerably more concerned, and forbids this, even though it cites what sounds like a permissive precedent, namely the case of bandages under the straps being permitted.

The Mishnah Berurah's reasoning is based on concern that the knots of the tefillin straps Do need to touch the person without any separation, which he extends from the knots to the entire volume of the straps.

Historical Head Covering: Mehdor

Since some of us have a little more time this week- I seem to be upping the blogging schedule.  Here's some pretty interesting information about the Mehdor, a Jewish women's head covering from Morocco.

The Mehdor was made out of silver wire and horsehair or cattlehair.  It was basically a combination of a wig and an ornament/hat combination.  The mehdor was the most elaborate of Moroccan women’s headdresses, but it was worn daily in one region of the country.  It would cover a woman's head from ear-to-ear in front, with two forelocks of "woven hair" visible.  Basically, it came with it's own bit of "wig" in the front.  These bands would then be gathered into braids (after/behind the visible part) which tied the mehdor onto the woman's head.

(In this image, you can see that the "hair" in front is part of the mehdor.)

On festive occasions, women would add a red silk scarf- called a feshtul- trailing down the back behind the mehdor.  Affluent women would then add pearl tiara- called a tasfift- over it.  (This tasfift is related to styles worn by Spanish Jews, and shows a connection and impact between the two Jewish cultures.)  Over it all a they might add another scarf, called a sebniyya- which would fully conceal the mehdor itself.

(This is an image of a woman wearing a tasfift.)

Creating a mehdor was a collaborative process.  First, a silversmith would arrange cattle-tail hair lengthwise, and bind bundles of it with silver wire.  He would then attach vertical silver tubular half-cylinders to this base, which were also decorated with enamel cloisonné and inlaid with colorful beads.  After that, seamstresses added a padded, layered cotton lining with a cylindrical thickened edge at top.  (This gave it shaping.)

Like a number of other historical head coverings (like the Shterntikhl in Eastern Europe, for example) it was used to display family’s wealth.

Being Seen: A Reflection on "My Fashion Choices—and My Husband’s—Reveal the Risks of Looking Hasidic"

A friend pointed out this article, in which the author compares how it felt to wear a wig on the train on her own, to do so in the company of her husband in Hasidic clothing, and  to wear a scarf on the train.

Vintage Hair Pieces

And for a moment of consideration about wigs, hair pieces, and other ways of changing the way your head looks, here's a remarkable photo.  (Found here, linked up here.)  When does it become apparent that the hair on your head isn't yours?  Are these dramatic enough to proclaim "This has to be a wig"?  Does it matter?


If you wear a wig, do you want people to know or not?

A Modern Text: A Very Focused Review

One of the journals I read (it's often my "I can't focus in shul, let's read for 5 minutes during the announcements/brachot after haftarah/etc reading) is Conversations.  In the winter 2012 issue, there's an article by Rabbi Marc Angel called "A Modesty Proposal: Rethinking Tseniut"  (It's available online).  It's a broad approach to his philosophy of tsniut in general, and I'm not going to address his whole article.  But here's what he has to say about women's head covering, and my own thoughts in response:

Here are a few items that udnerscore the gap between the concept of tseniut and the technical halakhic rules that are supposed to foster tseniut:
1. “Women’s hair is considered ervah, nakedness.” Normative halakha applies this statement only to married women. Single women need not cover their hair, since men are used to seeing them with uncovered hair and will not be aroused.

This ascribes one particular reason to the requirement for married women to cover their hair.  Rabbi Angel argues that women's hair (in a moment, he'll limit it to adult women's hair) is arousing, but that we presume that this is not true of single women.  I've seen it argued elsewhere that while women's hair is attractive, single women are permitted to reveal it in order to "catch" a mate...  If you allow a degree of attractiveness in between "completely platonic" and  "generally arousing", the argument begins to break down a little bit.

Is this a valid argument? In olden times when girls were married off at an early age, this assumption may have held true. Seeing girls up to the age of early teens with uncovered hair may have been a normal feature of life, not generating untoward thoughts on the part of men. Yet, today most women do not get married while they are still children. If a woman in her 20s or 30s has her hair uncovered, what difference would it make to men whether she is single or married? Most men would not be able to tell whether such a woman is single or married.

Another interpretation of the reason behind the mitzvah is to help us tell who is married and who is not.  It falls then less into the category of tzniut, admittedly (and makes trouble for the gemara on which Rabbi Angel is relying, but it is not the only gemara that discusses women's head-covering), and more into the category of a status-marker, like wearing a kippah might be (marking one as a Jew, among its other uses), or wearing a wedding ring.

Yet, halakha allows the single woman to go bare-headed, while a married woman must cover her hair. If the purpose of head covering is to foster tseniut and to prevent men from looking at women’s “nakedness,” then there is no substantial reason today to differentiate between married and single women. Either all women of marriageable age should cover their hair, or none of them need cover their hair because men are accustomed to seeing women with uncovered hair. Indeed, Rabbi Yosef Mesas rules that married women need not cover their hair in our days, since the normal practice of women in our society is to go with hair uncovered.  He wrote: “Since in our time all the women of the world have voided the previous practice and have returned to the simple practice of uncovering their hair, and there is nothing in this that constitutes brazenness or lack of modesty…therefore the prohibition of covering one’s hair has been lifted.”

In other words, he argues that social norms of modesty have shifted, and therefore Jews should follow the same norms as the rest of the society in which we live.  And modesty is always about social norms to a certain extent.

But it can also be able establishing our own communal norms- and certain parts of the Jewish community take that perspective very seriously- to the point of declaring immodest things that are considered more than modest enough in the general society (for instance long, relatively loose pants).  (Yet another perspective declares modesty to be external to society and to have fixed, inviolable rules.  That perspective would reject Rabbi Angel's argument as absurd.  That perspective has a hard time dealing with history, though.)

Even without going to that extreme, there might be room to decide that we see some value in some intermediate practice- or even for going "whole hog" in order to maintain our identity.  On the other hand, I see a lot of justice in this argument.  It's a pretty fair one- as long as you consider modesty to be a purely social/communal phenomenon.

2. “Women’s hair is considered ervah.” Yet various posekim allow women to cover their own natural hair with a wig. As long as they have fulfilled the technicality of covering their hair, they are not in violation of halakha.

The weighing of the technicalities and the intent of halakha tend to come up at a draw.  I sympathize with Rabbi Angel's argument, myself.   Nevertheless, I can see a concern with fulfilling a technicality when you don't feel strongly about the intent.  If you don't understand the intent of hair-covering, or feel it is inapplicable (as Rabbi Angel himself seems to feel or at least accept as reasonable), then why not fulfill a mitzvah while not marking yourself as outside the norm?

In some circles, it is expected that married women wear wigs; if they do not do so, they are considered to be religiously deficient. Does this make any sense? Women will spend thousands of dollars to buy wigs that often look better than their own hair. They will wear these wigs, which can be quite attractive, and be considered to be within the laws of tseniut. However, if a woman “wears” her own hair, in a modest fashion, such a woman is deemed (by many) to be in violation of halakha. If a woman’s hair is indeed nakedness, how can it possibly be permitted for them to wear wigs—also made of hair? Would anyone suggest that a woman is permitted to wear a skin-colored dress that is printed with the design of her private body parts? Of course not. Such clothing is obviously anti-tseniut. Likewise, if a woman’s hair is nakedness, covering it with a wig is anti-tseniut.

 I'm fond of this argument, because it's so blatant.  However, since I see a fairly significant difference between hair and one's genitalia, breasts, etc, I can see some space for claiming that this argument is too overstated to be reasonable.  After all, as long as one's wig is part of one's external apparel, it acquires a certain status in our minds.  And since there are plenty of women who don't cover their hair at all, all around us, while almost no women walk around with uncovered genitalia, there's a difference in gradation going on- maybe.  After all, I do see observant women who wear vaguely skin-colored shirts under otherwise two-revealing tops, and that seems to be acceptable...  Just because two things carry the same general label doesn't mean that they fit into an exactly identical category.