Women and Gender Part I: Clothes

Shiraz, as in many rural places in the Midwest (where I am from), is also somewhat more conservative than in the city. There are more women wearing chador, and more women wearing the full black stockings and garb I was more used to seeing in the conservative neighborhoods and villages of Iraq. Still the young people dress more like those in the cities.

Most women in the city, and particularly younger women, wear a manteau, which is an approximately knee-length coat. These have varying degrees of hip-ness, depending on the wearer’s personal style. The hijab, or headscarves, are worn more loosely and are more shawl-like here, and might even look like a winter scarf tied over the ears and under the chin—-young women here particularly are pushing the boundaries of what defines a headscarf. The chador is a Persian word for tent, and that is the long flowing black cape that covers all but the wearer’s face and hands—and probably is designed after the man’s cape but worn on the head rather than on the shoulders. A face covering defines the burqa—which has more of a local tribal origin than a Muslim one and I haven’t seen any here. Only one woman had her face covered with her chador, and since she was pacing along a well-trafficked road, I think she might have been begging and was embarrassed to be seen.

I do not like wearing the chador myself, (or abaya as it’s called in Iraqi Arabic), since when I put it on I usually quickly fainted in the heat and I also have no skill in keeping it on my head. However, in the winter and in the elements it does have some practical value. Again, chador means tent, and with a tent comes some privacy. For example, if you need to use the bathroom and there’s no rock or tree anywhere around, you can create a private space within which to manage this task. You can carry packages underneath the cloak, safe from thieves. You can also change clothes and sit more comfortably underneath it, without threatening your modesty. For what that’s worth.

There are also the koshkoi here, the nomadic people, and I have seen more of them here in Shiraz than in Teheran. Partly this is because of the more rural surroundings. You notice the women in particular by their long flowing and brightly colored, often floral skirts underneath their chador. Most other women don’t wear skirts, just knee-length coats and slacks by themselves, or under the chador.

Perhaps the only other thing I ought to mention for this post is that all of these outer coverings come off the second a woman goes inside, into the privacy of her home or exclusively into the company of other women. Then, the women are dressed just as you or I might be, depending on where we live. The outer coverings as mandated by the authorities get more or less conservative, but underneath the women still express their individuality.

The main difference I might suggest about clothing between the West and the East is that in the West, we women predominantly are taught to dress attractively to please men in general--either those we know well or a passing stranger on the street. Our looks are emphasized as our highest worth to others, and this has its accompanying social problems (anorexia, low self-esteem, the 'she was asking for it' rape debate, etc). There, the only people who see your clothing and body are those you know well--your women friends and your male relatives; people with whom you already have a deeper relationship. The original intent of the covers is to emphasize the character and personality of the person, rather than the body. While this has many social problems too, I can't help but wonder if there isn't some value in this that we in the West have lost.

I don't believe in mandating any particular form of clothing for women, whether to prevent men's stares or to attract them. I think the answer lies somewhere between the extremes, and truly liberating clothing is that which is comfortable, flattering, suited to the climate, and most important, that it allows a woman to function freely in her daily life, whatever her chosen vocation.