On a recent average day on the interwebs I, as one is wont, came across a few stories about women's bodies, some famous, some not. These sites I visited are typically commenting on North American or British cultural figures (since I mostly surf the web in English). These stories can be about slut shaming women or fat or thin shaming women's bodies. Basically, all this stuff seems to come down to policing women's bodies and how we use our bodies. After two stints of living in the Middle East, first in Doha, Qatar and
now in Jerusalem, Israel, I'm left to conclude that body policing is
ever present for women. But the feeling is different in the West than in the Middle East.
There are no commercial billboards in Jerusalem. None. Really, I know, this is hard to believe, but it's true. Not a one. No billboards means no half-naked airbrushed bodies (of any gender) staring at you as you move around town. (This is also true in Doha, but more surprising in Jerusalem because other Israeli cities do have them.) I love this. I don't feel harassed about what I'm wearing or not wearing. It's totally refreshing to shop without being told what to buy all the time. (I loved Christmas in Doha for the same reason; it was marketing free!) There's also no advertising on the buses. Although, it might be good if Egged (Jerusalem's bus company) added those ads that Translink has about don't been an idiot on the bus by wearing your headphones at max volume and crashing into other people with your backpack.
Along with no billboards is a general absence of massive commercialism. (This is unlike in Doha where people spend money like it grows on trees, cause it kinda does for them.) In large part this is due to the low income level in much of the city. Jerusalem is poor -- many of the people and the City itself because it has a bit of a problem collecting taxes from poor people. In the City Centre of Jerusalem, the main shopping street is Jaffa Rd (the road you used to take to get to Jaffa at the coast). Jaffa Rd has been seriously upgraded by the installation of the LRT and it's a lovely place to walk, have a coffee, and shop. Many of the retail spaces on Jaffa are too small to interest the major global brands or chains (who often put up those big glossy billboards) to set up shop. You have to go to the big mall in the south end of the City (Malha) to find chain stores; it is destination shopping. There's a mall near the Old City, Mamilla, but it is relatively small and its outdoor design gives the illusion that you are walking through a downtown street. (Which you sort of are because Mamilla Mall connects the Old City's Jaffa Gate to the "New" City's Municipal Hall.)
Jerusalem is a conservative, religious city. This is why there are no billboards: the Ultra-Orthodox protested against them (and they know how to protest e.g., lighting street fires, turning out en masse to rallies, etc.). At least half of the population of Jerusalem is observant religious and they dress according to religious precedent. This means you can sort people into general categories based on their clothes. Thanks to a fantastic exhibit last fall at the Israel Museum on the Haredim, I quickly learned to distinguish Orthodox and Ultra-Orthodox women on the streets of Jerusalem. Orthodox Jewish women wear long sleeves and skirts (below the knee) of all sorts. Ultra-Orthodox women wear long sleeves (usually of stripes), long skirts (black or navy) to the mid-calf or ankle, and heavy stockings (even in the summer). All married Orthodox or Ultra-Orthodox women cover their hair (hats, scarves, wigs). Ultra-Orthodox men are in black pants and suit jackets, with a white long-sleeved shirt. Orthodox men may wear khakis and a collared shirt with a tallit (prayer shawl) underneath and the tassels hanging out. All Orthodox or Ultra-Orthodox men (regardless of marriage status) will wear kippa (yarmulke). Kippas can be useful to distinguish what sub group a man belongs to; same for the black hats of the Haredim.
I observe fewer Muslims in Jerusalem than Jews so I'm less clear on their distinctions. It seems that depending on their level of observance Arab Muslim women of East Jerusalem may wear tight clothing with or without a chador/abaya or long-sleeved ankle-length coat on top. And, many Muslim women over the age of 13 will wear hijab. But not all: Sometimes you see the jarring combination of skinny jeans, a very short tunic, and hijab. No doubt there is a good explanation for that combination, but I'd only be speculating at this point. Arab Muslim men often wear long sleeve shirts with khaki pants; occasionally I see men dressed in khakis and long shirts with a sports jacket and a kaffiya.
Jerusalem's secular population (I'm in here) tends to keep things pretty conservative while in Jerusalem. It's just easier (and frankly, safer) to move around town when your hemlines and necklines aren't pushing religious conservative boundaries. That doesn't mean that secular women dress like religious women, it just means you keep more conscious of how you dress in Jerusalem than you would in, for example, Tel Aviv.
Clearly body policing exists in both the West (North America and Western Europe and Tel Aviv, Israel) and the East (relatively more traditional Middle East), but it is different. In the East it's about wearing enough clothing to be "respectable", and "under control". It seems that men, when they see bits of the female body can be tempted to behave "badly" or something. I'm still slightly confused on this point. When I first lived in Doha, I was terrified of Sharia law. (A friend of a friend of mine was pulling all the diplomatic strings she could find to try to resolve a nasty Sharia problem on account of her having flipped the bird at an aggressive male driver. Very scary.) Every morning my routine included a quick clothing scan before I left the house: knees - covered? elbows - covered? jacket and pashmina for cover up? If that's not a form of body policing, I don't know what is. I never encountered one myself, but there were stories that in the early 2000s, the relgious mullahs used to stalk the malls in Doha (Landmark and City Centre) carrying short whips. When they came upon a Western woman they considered to be immodestly dressed they took action with the whip and, I gather a stern dressing down in Arabic. While visiting a small town in Oman toward the Yemeni border, I had the unfortunate experience of leaving my ankles exposed (and only my ankles) when out for dinner. Despite my imposing male escort, I became a major attraction (or distraction) on the main street of Salalah. I really would have done anything for an abaya and hijab that night. I envied the women wearing niqab who could just melt into the crowd.
In the West, many women will wear what they want. Not that there aren't social norms about clothing. You don't wear a bikini to the office. But, women will use clothing for personal expression, to experiment with power, to elicit a response. It seems with clothing standards relaxed, the focus moves to our body shape and size, more overtly. Western women began clothing their bodies differently (from the maillot to the bikini; long to mini skirts; turtlenecks to lowcut blouses) as part of their empowerment: revolutions in fashion parallel women's changing social roles from the war and post-war periods. I'm not sure that dressing scantily is the same expression of empowerment as wearing pants was. And, I'm left wondering if we have displaced the efforts to control our bodies through clothing to control through critiques of shape and size?
There are no commercial billboards in Jerusalem. None. Really, I know, this is hard to believe, but it's true. Not a one. No billboards means no half-naked airbrushed bodies (of any gender) staring at you as you move around town. (This is also true in Doha, but more surprising in Jerusalem because other Israeli cities do have them.) I love this. I don't feel harassed about what I'm wearing or not wearing. It's totally refreshing to shop without being told what to buy all the time. (I loved Christmas in Doha for the same reason; it was marketing free!) There's also no advertising on the buses. Although, it might be good if Egged (Jerusalem's bus company) added those ads that Translink has about don't been an idiot on the bus by wearing your headphones at max volume and crashing into other people with your backpack.
Along with no billboards is a general absence of massive commercialism. (This is unlike in Doha where people spend money like it grows on trees, cause it kinda does for them.) In large part this is due to the low income level in much of the city. Jerusalem is poor -- many of the people and the City itself because it has a bit of a problem collecting taxes from poor people. In the City Centre of Jerusalem, the main shopping street is Jaffa Rd (the road you used to take to get to Jaffa at the coast). Jaffa Rd has been seriously upgraded by the installation of the LRT and it's a lovely place to walk, have a coffee, and shop. Many of the retail spaces on Jaffa are too small to interest the major global brands or chains (who often put up those big glossy billboards) to set up shop. You have to go to the big mall in the south end of the City (Malha) to find chain stores; it is destination shopping. There's a mall near the Old City, Mamilla, but it is relatively small and its outdoor design gives the illusion that you are walking through a downtown street. (Which you sort of are because Mamilla Mall connects the Old City's Jaffa Gate to the "New" City's Municipal Hall.)
Jerusalem is a conservative, religious city. This is why there are no billboards: the Ultra-Orthodox protested against them (and they know how to protest e.g., lighting street fires, turning out en masse to rallies, etc.). At least half of the population of Jerusalem is observant religious and they dress according to religious precedent. This means you can sort people into general categories based on their clothes. Thanks to a fantastic exhibit last fall at the Israel Museum on the Haredim, I quickly learned to distinguish Orthodox and Ultra-Orthodox women on the streets of Jerusalem. Orthodox Jewish women wear long sleeves and skirts (below the knee) of all sorts. Ultra-Orthodox women wear long sleeves (usually of stripes), long skirts (black or navy) to the mid-calf or ankle, and heavy stockings (even in the summer). All married Orthodox or Ultra-Orthodox women cover their hair (hats, scarves, wigs). Ultra-Orthodox men are in black pants and suit jackets, with a white long-sleeved shirt. Orthodox men may wear khakis and a collared shirt with a tallit (prayer shawl) underneath and the tassels hanging out. All Orthodox or Ultra-Orthodox men (regardless of marriage status) will wear kippa (yarmulke). Kippas can be useful to distinguish what sub group a man belongs to; same for the black hats of the Haredim.
I observe fewer Muslims in Jerusalem than Jews so I'm less clear on their distinctions. It seems that depending on their level of observance Arab Muslim women of East Jerusalem may wear tight clothing with or without a chador/abaya or long-sleeved ankle-length coat on top. And, many Muslim women over the age of 13 will wear hijab. But not all: Sometimes you see the jarring combination of skinny jeans, a very short tunic, and hijab. No doubt there is a good explanation for that combination, but I'd only be speculating at this point. Arab Muslim men often wear long sleeve shirts with khaki pants; occasionally I see men dressed in khakis and long shirts with a sports jacket and a kaffiya.
Jerusalem's secular population (I'm in here) tends to keep things pretty conservative while in Jerusalem. It's just easier (and frankly, safer) to move around town when your hemlines and necklines aren't pushing religious conservative boundaries. That doesn't mean that secular women dress like religious women, it just means you keep more conscious of how you dress in Jerusalem than you would in, for example, Tel Aviv.
Clearly body policing exists in both the West (North America and Western Europe and Tel Aviv, Israel) and the East (relatively more traditional Middle East), but it is different. In the East it's about wearing enough clothing to be "respectable", and "under control". It seems that men, when they see bits of the female body can be tempted to behave "badly" or something. I'm still slightly confused on this point. When I first lived in Doha, I was terrified of Sharia law. (A friend of a friend of mine was pulling all the diplomatic strings she could find to try to resolve a nasty Sharia problem on account of her having flipped the bird at an aggressive male driver. Very scary.) Every morning my routine included a quick clothing scan before I left the house: knees - covered? elbows - covered? jacket and pashmina for cover up? If that's not a form of body policing, I don't know what is. I never encountered one myself, but there were stories that in the early 2000s, the relgious mullahs used to stalk the malls in Doha (Landmark and City Centre) carrying short whips. When they came upon a Western woman they considered to be immodestly dressed they took action with the whip and, I gather a stern dressing down in Arabic. While visiting a small town in Oman toward the Yemeni border, I had the unfortunate experience of leaving my ankles exposed (and only my ankles) when out for dinner. Despite my imposing male escort, I became a major attraction (or distraction) on the main street of Salalah. I really would have done anything for an abaya and hijab that night. I envied the women wearing niqab who could just melt into the crowd.
In the West, many women will wear what they want. Not that there aren't social norms about clothing. You don't wear a bikini to the office. But, women will use clothing for personal expression, to experiment with power, to elicit a response. It seems with clothing standards relaxed, the focus moves to our body shape and size, more overtly. Western women began clothing their bodies differently (from the maillot to the bikini; long to mini skirts; turtlenecks to lowcut blouses) as part of their empowerment: revolutions in fashion parallel women's changing social roles from the war and post-war periods. I'm not sure that dressing scantily is the same expression of empowerment as wearing pants was. And, I'm left wondering if we have displaced the efforts to control our bodies through clothing to control through critiques of shape and size?
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