“Taught from infancy that beauty is woman’s sceptre, the mind shapes itself to the body, and roaming round its gilt cage, only seeks to adorn its prison.” ~Mary Wollstonecraft

“Isn’t that the problem?  That women have been swindled for centuries into substituting adornment for love, fashion (as it were) for passion?” ~Erica Jong

“Our only hope for the redemption of woman from the thralldom of dress lies in the belief that her hitherto limited sphere of activities has been so insufficient for her intellectual occupations that she has been forced to expend her thoughts in decorating her person, instead of enlarging her mind.” ~Mercy B. Jackson

I have a confession to make. I love fashion. It’s true. I love clothes. I love shopping. I peruse fashion blogs daily.  Try as I might to come up with a more meaningful hobby that will help me abandon this shallow pursuit, I find myself drawn again and again to the accumulation of clothing. And especially shoes. (sigh)

I have struggled with this on a number of levels and have proclaimed multiple vows of abstinence after being appalled by the shallowness, the mindless consumption, the greed, the emptiness of the fashion world. But for me, try as I might to escape it, clothing has offered tremendous creative opportunities to a

The fashion blogger known as the Sartorialist. One of my constant addictions.

woman with a creative mind and clumsy hands.

Nonetheless, I battle. In recent years my attention has turned to thrift shopping because of it’s more socially conscientious appeal. That makes me feel better as a Christian, as a citizen of the world, as a wannabe protector of little children and desperate women in sweatshops around the planet. But as a feminist I find that I am still uncomfortable. Perhaps I’ve done less to imprison them–these victims of globalization–but am I still the obliging victim of a system that has long imprisoned women? By indulging my love for clothes (and shoes! Did I mention shoes?) am I continuing to entertain a scheme that for centuries, millenia, has prevented my gender from reaching their full potential in other spheres by intoxicating them with the trappings of self-adornment?

The most tragic example of this, of course, is the high-heeled shoe. I’ll admit that I love them. But I also loathe them! Not only is their main function to make women’s legs look longer, not only are they terribly uncomfortable and bad for our backs, but they are also meant, primarily, to change a woman’s gait so that it’s sexier– i.e. less solid, stable, more wobbly, more vulnerable.

Gross! And yet…they’re so pretty.

So this is my conundrum. This is my little battle of the day. Insignificant? Perhaps. But not every daily battle has to be huge. Can fashion be redeemed? Is it an acceptable hobby as long as it stays in its proper sphere? Is it a legitimate creative outlet? Is it, by it’s very nature, anti-woman?

I don’t know, but I’ll definitely mull it over this weekend as I cruise my usual thrift-shop circuit.