Texture?

Almost every store-bought kippah I've seen (crocheted, obviously) have the same texture- just plain, solid single crochet.  The patterning is all done with color-work, which a machine can do more intricately than I can- probably than any person can.

But I've barely seen any texture in such kippot, except in one "model" or two, with a sort of cross-over stitch (not one I know how to make, yet, actually) that makes up the pattern.

A handmade kippah can be made with all sorts of different stitches and textures- single crochet in the standard variation, single crochet that goes through only the second side of each stitch (leaving a small ridge), double crochet, or a variety of combination stitches- I've tried leaf stitch very successfully.  (Leaf stitch is: two single crochet in one stitch, skip the next, repeat.  Adding stitches seems not to make too big a different in the pattern- I've been adding a third stitch to the 2 stitch spaces, and leaving the skips alone, which comes out well.)

(It's hard to photograph so that textures like this show- hopefully the stripes at least show enough to give you a sense of how the fabric looks.)

I am making an attempt at moss stitch (an aran stitch, according to a book I have) now, although as a first attempt, I don't know that I'll make the whole kippah in that stitch. It could be interesting to do some stripes in this pattern...

I've seen one or two kippot made with different textures, by other people, but not often.

I can never tell whether the texturing that I do is for my own enjoyment, or whether the people who wear my kippot appreciate it.  My husband seems to enjoy it- or says so when I ask.  I do wonder how much it is noticeable.

More Wedding-Wear

Here's one of those adaptations for a slightly-smaller than I'd like scarf- layering another one underneath, for some added inches.   The ends of that other scarf also gave me some bulk in the bun area of this headcovering. It's a little less out-going than my usual wedding-wear, but this was a wedding where we were closer to the groom's parents than to the folks getting married, and in a community I was quite unfamiliar with- so I decided to go a little less dramatic than usual.  I still like how it came out.

This was a wedding in a community that was significantly to the right of my own, or of the communities where I am usually a  guest.  I considered pulling my scarf further forward than I'd usually wear it- but eventually chose not to.  Regardless, it was pretty clear that I wasn't "from around here"- I think there were only one or two other women wearing tichels at all- most of the local married women wore wigs.  Regardless- I never know how much to adapt my own practice to respect local minhag (custom- perhaps not a strong enough word), and how much to hold fast to my own practice.

Also even such restrained color as this is was more than most of the women were wearing.  When did black and white (mostly black) become a uniform for women too?

More Thoughts On Egalitarianism

After yesterday's post, I think I need to explore and map out some more about how I think about egalitarianism, and the relationship between head-covering, tallit and tefillin, and communal aspects of egalitarian practice.  

I don't have a perfect legal relationship built up.  

Combining everything into one package is where I started- both because of my Reform background that presumed equality and sameness between men and women and because that was my feminist framework at the time.  I presumed that any adult Jew ought to do the same things- wear all the same ritual garments, etc.  I saw no reason not to.

Over time (mostly college), I saw that there were different sorts of considerations- concerns over beged ish (men's clothing- the prohibition against cross-dressing, very basically), and a general feeling that wearing a kippah was too masculine.  For some of my peers, the solution was to find a feminine adaptation- for kippot- anything from a lacy kippah to a scarf or hat.  For others, it was to just decide not to take on the practice.  It rankled me.  

Still, it eventually sunk in.  

Maybe it helped that I realized that the equality I was looking at and dreaming about wasn't complete- I wasn't even aware, then, about inequalities in Torah study, or the way that even I, the great egalitarian dreamer, wasn't so egalitarian about home ritual...  (I light shabbos candles in our home, my husband usually makes kiddush.  He doesn't want to light candles, when I offer- even though for me, it's one of the most potent religious experiences of my week.)  

Either I accepted that we can't make such changes for everyone over night, or I realized that one can want to take on some mitzvot without taking on others- I still don't know what I really think.  It seems to depend on what I'm thinking about.  

When I write without thinking, when I write with my emotions, I still go back to that notion that women ought to take on everything- because equality is the dream.  I realize now that we're not there- change doesn't happen overnight.  I don't wear a tallit katan, because it feels too masculine.  I keep meaning to try again (I did, for a few months, and felt uncomfortable with that), but so far, I haven't done it.  Still, I want to move in that direction- serious observance, egalitarian.  The question is- how patient do I need to be?  

When My Movement Doesn't Match My Values

I just came across an article which argues that Ramah camps (the Conservative Movement's summer camps) are not modeling egalitarian ritual behavior (meaning they require boys to wear kippah, and tallit and tefillin at the appropriate age- but don't even suggest it for girls, much less require it, even though egalitarianism is at least a stated ideal in most Conservative communities), and that this is contributing to a failure in the movement's move toward women's participation and leadership.

These are the sorts of things that get my blood boiling.  In pluralistic settings, I get that one can't require women to do these things (although I was a pretty big advocate for "if you want to daven from the amud/read Torah, you need to wear a tallit/kippah" in college, before giving it up as exclusionary).  I understand that plenty of people hold positions that say that one is ok or even desirable, but the other- usually the ritual gear, is beged ish (men's clothing), or something of the like.

But in a Conservative movement camp?  In a community where we want to accept non-egalitarianism, but where the majority is egalitarian?  Fine- don't make it required.  But make it highly suggested.  Maybe even make it the standard- for which one can get an exception.  (Either way, some children will be taunted and made to be unusual.  How ethical is it for me to change which ones it will be?)

These things are significant Jewish ritual items, and for me at least, once they became a regular part of my life, they help.  It isn't some mystical thing- but when I'm struggling to pray, if I can just get my tallit and tefillin on, the rest starts to flow better.  And, if you think doing more mitzvot is better (a generally positive position)- then why not encourage girls to at least try these mitzvot out while at summer camp?  Why not ask our counselors to be role models?

If my daughters (hypothetical, at least for now) aren't going to get egalitarian role modeling at a Conservative camp, why should I send them there, instead of to an Orthodox camp where they'll at least get role modeling of frumkeit and, quite possibly, more time learning?  (Of course, this is utterly un-researched.)  Seriously- the thing that ties me to the Conservative Movement most strongly is egalitarianism.  If that isn't presented as positive to our youth...

Easy and Pretty

Here's just a quick shot of today's headgear: a cotton scarf and decorative headband.  I enjoyed stuffing the ends of the scarf in underneath, making it look like there's a lot more volume in my hair than actually exists.

Also, an interesting link about identity and women's dress, in particular, women's clothing that is sometimes perceived as oppressive.  I only noticed now, as I am posting this, that it's from Al Jazeera- I'd never have known.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Scarves...

(Actually I never read that book.  Should I?)

Rather like the heat of the middle of summer, travel puts certain extra demands on one's head-covering.  Not only are you spending lots of time in one place, but, if you're anything like me, you want to be able to sleep on the bus/plane/train/car without your scarf/etc coming off.

My other pet peeve about traveling is that I want to be able to lean back (see: wanting to sleep) without my bun or other lumps getting in the way.  This is rarely a concern during my every day life, but during a bus trip, it's essential.  If you have short hair, this probably isn't a worry- but my hair is waist length (and I can't bear to cut it)- so even though it's quite fine in texture, it makes a solid lump at the back of my head.

My solution: I braid my hair tightly (to prevent knots), then tie a triangular scarf.  I fold the braid into a vague bow shape- so that some is on the right, and some on the left, vaguely balanced.  Then I take the bottom corner of my scarf and, keeping the braid inside, tuck that corner under the knot of my scarf.  Basically, I make my own snood.  (If I had a real snood, I'm sure that would work- but somehow, I don't.  I have some berets, but a. they're wool and it is still summertime, and b. they seem a little too short and tight over the ears to do this successfully.)

I generally leave the scarf ends to dangle- I've tried making them into a small crown, but they tend to fall down at some point.  So, in the spirit of simplicity, I just left them down this time.

Here's me, home again:

Historical Head-Covering: Yemenite Wedding Headdresses

We're off to another wedding tonight, so in its honor, here's a post about Yemenite Jewish wedding head coverings.  These are much more exciting than (the future post of) what I wore to a wedding...  Enjoy!

When I started to research Yemenite Jewish head coverings, I fell into the trap of presuming that there was one standard Yemenite Jewish style of dress.  Instead, I found that the images in my mind, particularly of Yemenite bridal headdresses are actually the way that brides in Sana'a were dressed, and that different regions had different customs.  The ethnic diversity of Jewish customs in fact was even more diverse than I had set out to demonstrate.  So take all of this as a general statement, rather than a description of all the details of how Jewish women all over Yemen used to dress for their weddings.

There was even one set of photographs that came up again and again, showing tishbuk lulu, the Sana'a wedding headdress, on a variety of websites- apparently the standard photo of a Jewish Yemenite bride.  These headdresses are frequently also bedecked with flowers and rue leaves.

 In contrast to these couple of extraordinarily elaborate photos, some more searching revealed others with very different styling.  Instead of a high, pointed headdress, some of the other regions seem to show brides with hood-like headdresses, or with decorations that come down onto the forehead.

Thanks for this set of photos goes to http://www.hennabysienna.com/yemen.html.  The same page also has a historical picture of Sana'a's wedding headdress.

I also found the interesting note that new mothers also wore (at least in some part(s) of Yemen) a headdress similar to that of a bride.

This has all been internet research- I hope to have a chance to do more formal research and to share it with you, at some point in the future.

Ethnic Dress

I came across this link courtesy of alreadypretty.com, a fashion and body image blog that I'm fond of.  It talks about the way that women are regarded in professional settings.  It asks whether the way that women are advised to dress in order to get respect actually forces us to play down our own guiding principles- and how to bring ethnic clothing into a professional context.

It seems a little bit off-topic for this blog, but given my recent post about wearing a tichel at work, it seems to be just what the doctor ordered.

What do you think of it?

Taking Pictures- A Picture-less Post

I'm wondering how you deal with photographs.  I mean, by that, photos with your head uncovered.  Photographs from before I was married don't feel like a problem.  It was, in context, nothing that people couldn't see by seeing me in person at that point.  But what about now?  A picture is not real life.  And yet, I'm hesitant.

This last Friday night, we ate at home, and didn't go to shul first.  So I didn't get dressed for the outside world- neither in how I covered my body nor how I covered my head.  I could have thrown a shawl around my shoulders and still taken a photograph for this blog- but I didn't.  It didn't feel appropriate.

On the surface, that's completely logical- I wouldn't show photos of myself that show other parts of my body that I usually cover- no matter how acceptable that is in contemporary American society.  (Notice that I never questioned that I'd have thrown something around my shoulder...)  Why is hair different?

My husband tries to remind me that I don't cover my hair because I think that it's erva- I do it because that's how Jewish women indicate that they're married, and out of yirat shamayim.  Nevertheless, it doesn't feel right to show a picture like that.  Sometimes, I just listen to my instincts.

A Very Little Research Lends Me Perspective

I've been researching head coverings from different Jewish communities around the world.  It's amazing how much context it is lending to the way I'm seeing contemporary Jewish head coverings, right now.

Looking at historical head coverings, they vary regionally.  Now, they vary fairly little by region, and more by "how frum you are".  The communities aren't local, they're almost hierarchical.  Modern Orthodox women wear this, Hareidi women wear that, etc.

The same goes for men.  You may have heard the joke describing how to identify a man's Jewish affiliation by where he wears his kippah (the image slides up the head- Reform at the very back of the head, near the top of the neck; Conservative a little higher, but still slanted toward the back; Modern Orthodox flat on top; Yeshivish tipped forwards toward the forehead).  Similarly, there are identifiers like this chart (you'll need to scroll down a bit) from Wikipedia, where different materials are used to identify "how frum" a man is.  (I joke that I could wear any of them and send the same message- you put a kippah on a woman, and all its other contextual messages go flying out the window...)

In some ways, I am making use of this set of stereotypes.  By covering my head like someone from a "frummer" community than my own, I reach into that sort of authority that stems from a communal respect for "authenticity".  On the other hand, it makes me seem somewhat separate from "my own" community in some ways, and leads to concerns like the ones I've shared about how  I'll be seen in professional contexts.

Something about the modern, global world makes community into a statement of belief and lifestyle, rather than an affiliation with the people who live near you.  My local Jewish community consists of a folks with all sorts of different practices and observances.  There's no way to tell where I'm from based on how I dress.  But you can tell something about what religious perspectives I stand for, just by looking at me.

It's a force for homogenization in how we dress- and a shift in what parts of our identities we express visually.   I wonder what it would be like to wear what American Jewish women wear on their heads, rather than what a certain sort of observant Jewish women wear on their heads.  Would it feel different?  Would I notice?  Would I feel more or less constrainted in my choices and creativity than I do now?