Pocketless pants and new hermeneutics: A pastor’s confession
Photograph by Waldemar via Pexels
Rev. Justin Cox
In 2018, I began a lifestyle change that has seen me drop some serious excess weight. While the main objective was to get healthier, a byproduct of dropping 60 pounds has been the ability to expand my wardrobe and fit back into pieces of clothing that haven’t seen the light of day since the grunge music era. Shirts that once hugged my body a little too closely have been resurrected as I’ve slid into them with renewed confidence. And, like an adventurous claustrophile, I began to push the boundaries of what I knew as “too tight and snug.”
Thus began my deep dive into the darkest corners of my closets. During one of the rummages, I scooted past pairs of old TOMS shoes, a duffel bag with a broken zipper, a board game missing a few crucial pieces, and unfamiliar brown plaid pants folded nice and neat inside a collapsible box. Picking them up and giving them a once over, they resembled something Daniel Day Lewis’ character Bill the Butcher could have worn in the film “Gangs of New York.” Out they came, and on they went.
While “skinny” jeans might not be for everyone, these fit me perfectly. I slapped on a pair of thin black suspenders, threw on a bowler-style hat, and started to give myself a once-over in the mirror. Not bad, I thought. Continuing my one-man fashion show, I went to put my hands in the front pockets.
However, my digits slipped right past my upper thighs because there were no pockets. A second later, I realized the issue.
These were my wife’s pants.
This wasn’t the first time I’ve raided my wife’s side of the closet. I've actually worn some items of hers before. For over a decade, I've “borrowed” several pairs of pants from her. It started innocently enough with a case of mistaken identity. I thought her black jeans were mine. Next came a popping bright burgundy pair, which I sadly can’t locate anymore. I think she stole them back or discarded them out of jealousy. She’s not telling either way. She returns the favor when she can, co-opting my warm cardigan and roomy sweatshirts without a hint of my consent.
I noticed early on that women’s pants were surprisingly comfortable and many times less stiff than my standard Levi’s, but there was something off about them. Something I always thought odd.
The pockets. Or perhaps the lack thereof.
As a minister, I strive for opportunities to expose people to different ideas, which often require decentering and deconstructing long-held beliefs. This is filled with moments and comments from cradle churchgoers who have carried theological interpretations from their childhood well into adulthood. Some are still life-giving, while others are not so much.
I know I’m about to preach to the choir here because this isn’t new news to women. For years, I’ve heard them mention, moan, and scream with frustration for pants, dresses, and skirts where designers gave attention to adequate pocket size and depth. Wearing pants designed for women, I can see their disappointment. Modern cell phones stick halfway out back pockets, and the minimal front pockets do well to fit a peppermint or tube of ChapStick. Why is this? According to journalist and freelance writer Melanie Radzicki McManus,
Centuries ago, all clothing was created sans pockets. Men and women carried their belongings in small pouches tied around the waist. Then, some 400 years ago, pockets were sewn into men’s clothing, but this same feature was omitted from female garments. In the early 1800s, slimmer silhouettes came into style, so women no longer could wear pockets under clothes but had to wear them over clothes — and their pockets got much smaller. Some say it was a way to keep women powerless. If they had no way to secretly carry items around, it would be harder for them to travel independently or conduct clandestine affairs.
While the past century has seen steps to address this issue, most designers still disregard or choose not to take the issue seriously. In a time where gender equality is often claimed, my wearing my wife’s pants reminds me that it’s not yet realized.
There are several ways to approach this issue, and here is the one I find most helpful; I want to bring attention to this problem and, like many hair bands from the 1980s, make it a point not to conform to preconceived gender normative concepts concerning clothing.
My wife and I are doing this with our daughters as well; when we go to Carter’s, Old Navy, or any other store selling kids’ clothes, we don’t let the “girl and boy” sections determine what we buy for them. We tend to buck the norm when we can. This goes for our faith too.
As a minister, I strive for opportunities to expose people to different ideas, which often require decentering and deconstructing long-held beliefs. This is filled with moments and comments from cradle churchgoers who have carried theological interpretations from their childhood well into adulthood. Some are still life-giving, while others are not so much.
Some of my peers might enjoy a “Good message this week, pastor,” followed by a pat on the back. However, I much prefer an affectionate smile accompanying a “You know, I’ve never heard that scripture preached that way before.” I’ll take one of those, even if they decide to issue me a “Bless your heart” afterward.
Be it fresh exposure to new hermeneutics or bringing attention to gender inequality, I believe it all falls under the kin-dom of God work I’m trying to live out.
And I plan to do some of that living wearing my wife’s pocketless pants.
Who knows. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll give me a pair of women’s low-rise skinny jeans for Father’s Day this year.
Lord knows, they’d get more wear than a bland tie.
Justin Cox received his theological education from Campbell University, Wake Forest University School of Divinity, and McAfee School of Theology where he earned his Doctor of Ministry. He is an ordained minister holding standing in the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship and American Baptist Churches USA. His thoughts and reflections are his own.
The views expressed are those of the author and not necessarily those of American Baptist Home Mission Societies.
Get early access to the newest stories from Christian Citizen writers, receive contextual stories which support Christian Citizen content from the world’s top publications and join a community sharing the latest in justice, mercy and faith.