Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84It offers freedom, first of all, in the sense of being rightly related to my Creator and enables me to maintain an attitude of permanent worship. I like to think that the twenty minutes I spend prayer-walking my way to work each morning–when I luxuriate in the holiness of God’s own house with its great blue sky domed above me and the zebra finches bickering incessantly on the fencerows–are minutes I’ve stolen from the mirror. I don’t wear makeup, and I don’t have wardrobe or hairstyle decisions to bog down the start of my day. Second, it offers freedom from comparison, that ever-lurking “thief of joy,” because I am not beholden to any fashion standard, nor am I setting an example that makes another woman feel unworthy. And, most blessedly, it offers me the freedom to allow the right relationships of other men toward me and, ultimately, freedom from the enslavement of objectification. In other words, by endeavoring to dress and behave in the manner I feel most honors my womanhood, I hope I am inspiring men to behave like true men. Like a temple adorned from the outside with decorations that denote worthiness, my clothing consecrates, communicates, sets aside, and sets apart. By wearing a head covering, I am making a clear statement to the visible and invisible world that my allegiance is to God. But having said that, my head covering has not separated me from anyone, or prevented me from forming deep and strong friendships with many amazing women and men the world over. They know that for me it is not about piety or perfectionism, but a reminder of the grace that covers me every day. They respect me because they know that dressing simply gives me a great sense of peace and belonging: belonging to God, and, as a married woman, belonging to one excellent man. By covering my hair, I’m saying my hairstyle doesn’t matter, but my mind, heart, and character do. By covering my body, I’m saying my confidence doesn’t come from fashion or fitness, but from a deep sense of knowing I am worthy just for who I am, not what I look like. Wearing a head covering says that I not only accept but love the woman God has created me to be. And it aligns with my belief that dressing with modesty, dressing with the deepest respect for myself, will in turn awaken respect in others. Of course, I still get stares, and sometimes “You look so beautiful!” or, “Your clothing is just so peaceful.” But always, always, I get great questions, and I love the opportunity to tell people why I dress the way I do. The question I’m most often asked is, “Do you have to?” What I hear is, “Is this really your choice?” I fully understand the question, espe- cially as I’m part of a community in which all women wear the same modest style. The answer is no, I don’t have to. I wear what I wear because I choose to, for the reasons mentioned above, and for another reason too: so that my three sons see that the love of Jesus, and the deep love and respect of my husband, are all I need to feel whole. Norann Voll is a writer living in Elsmore, New South Wales, Australia. A version of this article appeared on the “Voices” blog at www. bruderhof.com, the website of the community that publishes Plough. Plough Quarterly • Summer   Photos courtesy of the author