No Slacking

When I posted this link to the Washington Post article about the role of women in the Abrahamic religions, I suffered a brain cramp — the seventy-fifth thousandth of the past week — which was quite an improvement over the previous week’s record, by the way.

I had meant to include an anecdote about one of Cuppa’s experiences, but, alas, I forgot. It’s not easy being me.

However, I now take you back in my mysterious time machine to a Saturday in the mid-sixties when various youth of our church congregated for a workday. Cuppa was present, but she and I weren’t an item then although we became one shortly after and have remained that way for the remainder of the past century and well into this one. (May that reality continue for yet another decade or two or three.)

I have a recollection of washing windows that day but of not much else except for a dim memory of some of the kids who were present: Ron, Jan, Pat, Cuppa, Val, (another) Pat, and others, I’m sure.

Within that memory, I seem to see Cuppa, Val and Pat coming in the side door to visit the loo. And I seem to see the pastor or his designate barring the way and refusing them entrance. Because they were wearing slacks and not dresses! In the event, the ladies were required to visit the restaurant across the street to access a friendly commode. Quite possibly, we all went there for lunch; I can’t recall.

Of course, I would have forgotten the incident had I not later fallen in love with the lady and, therefore, having been reminded of the event from time to time as it came up in conversation.

I’m certain I thought it was utterly silly at the time, but we weren’t a rebellious lot and loved the church, so no one was ready to take the case to the Supreme Court of Canada or the U.N.’s Human Rights Council.

But it certainly gives one pause all these decades later — even if it requires two blog posts for this old brain to rally sufficiently memorialize the silly incident. I shake my head and file it under the I Swear You Can’t Make This Stuff Up category.


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9 Responses to No Slacking

  1. Lorna says:

    I remember being asked to leave the Sergeant’s Mess, where I’d gone with my mum and dad, because I was wearing pants. They were gorgeous, elephant-bottomed purple slubbed silk pants with a matching shirt, and I had paid a fortune for the look, but we ate elsewhere that day.

  2. See what I mean about “man’s religion”? Nonsense…

  3. Ginnie says:

    We’ve come a long way … but, to be honest, I think some of the outfits of today are OUTRAGEOUS … they seem to be worn to shock !

  4. Bernie says:

    I remember a time when a woman’s dress code was much more conservative than it is today – I can’t imagine a world in which I couldn’t wear my slacks. Hey AC we all get those senior moments – your doing just fine….:-)Hugs

  5. Dimple says:

    A good example of man’s religion: law over love.

  6. Linda Fraser says:

    The only time I was subject to dress code issues was at high school in the 1960’s where the dress code for girls was skirts or dresses, no slacks/pants and no one was allowed to wear blue jeans. I had a 5 km. walk home from school and in the winter in Toronto, that required warm snow pants over your legs for the chilly walk home. The whole dress code idea was expensive and awkward for me. I had allergy issues with nylon and other hosiery items too. I am very happy that such codes are a non issue these days. Even in the schools where uniforms are worn, girls can wear warm slacks/pants all winter. It’s good when social ideals coincide with climate limitations.

  7. Jinksy says:

    I’d have demanded antrance to the gents loo then, if there was a seperate one, and watched the look on their faces abotu that… LOL

  8. Jinksy says:

    Or even about. Though abotu is not SO far off the mark if we consider the subject of this post… 🙂

  9. Ruth says:

    No public highschool I went to allowed slacks for girls or women, and I graduated in 1972. Yet females were allowed to wear outrageously short miniskirts. One of my teachers showed all her goods everytime she lifted her arm to write on the board.

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