Today is our fifth wedding anniversary. I was going to write something about marriage, or husbands, or something like that. Something light.
But if you’ve been paying attention to the news from Friday, you’ll understand why I don’t feel capable of writing something lighthearted. Not right now. I don’t think I’m even able to do a very coherent post, certainly not an eloquent one.
We are all crying with the families of the victims now. We are all heartbroken, numb, hugging our loved ones a little closer, giving our children a little more attention and patience.
Whenever something like this happens, one of the first questions is usually “how could this happen?” For some, it’s “how could G-d let it happen,” for others it’s society, or the government, or whatever. But we all wonder why. And we will never know.
After the Indian Ocean tsunami in 2004, I remember learning the concept that everything we do has an impact in the world. In the language of Judaism, every mitzvah, good deed, adds light to the world. Adds light to the darkness which is constantly threatening to swallow us up.
This concept brings me solace in times like these. After the hurricane, the war in Israel, and this unfathomable tragedy, the idea that by doing good, we are helping. Even if it’s imperceptible. Even if it feels like the horrors and the evil are just too much to battle.
I saw this on Facebook. Maybe it’s a place to start:
May all the mourners be comforted, may the memory of the victims be for a blessing, and may we only hear good news and know peace in our time.
Having guests is a big mitzvah. We learn in the Talmud that it’s one of the few mitzvos that we can enjoy the fruits of in this world, yet the principle is still intact in the World to Come. So it’s kind of a big deal. It can be inspiring, enjoyable, entertaining. But what happens when the guest makes us uncomfortable, insinuates disapproval or outright insults us? What do we do in a situation where one spouse wants to have a guest, but that guest makes us uber uncomfortable, effectively making Shabbos, usually a delight, into a day of tension and stress? When it puts a strain on our marriage?
I ask because a reader contacted me with the following dilemma, and she would love to hear your advice on this tricky situation.
In the last post on covering my hair, I wrote about my sheitels. One thing I mentioned is when I wear my sheitels: When I’m going somewhere and want to blend in; when my husband is around; or if I’m just feeling like it. To use a pie chart, here’s how it breaks down (the units are measured in hours per week):
Since 13 or so of those hours of sheitel-wearing are on Shabbos, during the week it really feels like I don’t wear my sheitels all that often. I’m not wearing one right now. Right now, I’m wearing a comfy, floppy, easy-to-put-on hat. That’s my go-to head covering for the morning, the evening, and whenever I just don’t want to put a whole lot of effort into it.
There are certain segments of Orthodox Jewry that do not wear sheitels at all, for various reasons. So they wear other things. I chose four hair coverings that are the most prevalent in my circles. Here they are:
Snood
They’re not just for Renaissance fairs.
The word snood has been around since about 725 CE, and they have been in and out of fashion throughout history, making a resurgence in the mid-18oos and again during the Second World War.
Basically, it’s a circle of fabric with an elastic band all the way around the opening. Netted, tatted, knitted, crocheted, or knotted, they typically have a woven appearance. They can be snug to the head, or hang down a little bit. Because we want them to cover our hair, snoods worn by Orthodox ladies will have a lining in them.
These are exceptionally easy to throw on, and are the epitome of comfort. You don’t need to tie them or anything. Simply pull your hair back into a ponytail bun, pop on a snood and you’re ready to head out the door.
I wore snoods more when I was newly married, but my style and preferences have evolved so that I don’t wear them much anymore (no offense to snoods). However, any place where there are lots of frumladies, there will be at least one snood. Guaranteed.
Also known as mitpachot (Hebrew), they can be square, rectangular, and even triangular. Most of my tichels happen to be square, which is a great shape for tying a “classic” tichel (see video below on what that is). However, if I want to be a little fancier, or pretend to be a little Sephardi, I will choose a rectangular tichel, which I can tie in a more elegant manner.
You may remember Rivka Malka from her Women Who Inspire Us post a while back. Well, she is an expert tichel-wearer, and on her website, rivkamalka.com, she has a number of video tutorials on how to tie tichels in fabulous, beautiful ways. I even got to participate in one, “The Classic,” which was appropriate as it’s the way I nearly always wear my tichels.
Tichels take a slightly higher amount of effort to put on, and so I will don one when I feel like investing an extra couple of minutes in my appearance. When I do take that time, it’s a great feeling, one of elegance, grace, and a distinctly Jewish style.
The downside of tichels is that when some hair starts sneaking out, it’s a little trickier to adjust them. Also, when I tie them tightly enough that they stay in place, it can be a bit tight. When they are tied too loosely, they slip back. So it’s a matter of finding the right balance. Sometimes I wear a band (a wide stretchy headband like this) underneath the tichel, which helps keep it on a little more securely, and can also jazz it up.
Hat
These can range from super-fancy (think royal wedding) to super-simple. I have seen some gorgeous hats on Shabbos, which, if I weren’t a sheitel-on-Shabbos kind of girl, I would love to rock one of those fancy hats. Mostly, I opt for simple hats.
For me, hats function exactly like a snood. I put my hair up in a pony bun, throw on a hat and I’m done. What I like about hats is that I feel like they have a little more personality and pizzazz than a snood, and give me a slightly more polished look without any extra effort. Also, hats are a more subtle way of covering one’s hair, less obvious than a snood or tichel.
I’ve had success finding hats at H&M as well as at Target. The only downside with buying a hat at Target is that it’s likely everyone else will have thought the hat was cute, too, and bought it, and then I’m wearing the same hat as 100 other frum ladies in Baltimore. I don’t like that, so even though Target has some cute hats, I usually pass on the purchase.
Pre-tied
These are a relatively new trend (within the last four-five years, I think). Basically, it’s a tichel which is, wait for it, pre-tied. There’s a little elastic strip sewn in the back, and two (or three, depending) little tails that you can tie. Or not. I prefer to tie them. What’s nice about them is that they are as easy to put on as a hat, though they usually fit much more snugly, and hug the shape of the head.
I haven’t had the best success in finding ones that I find flattering. If they’re too small, it’s like my face is gargantuan and they constantly slip back. If they’re too big, I feel like it looks sloppy and dwarfs my head. So, I have one that I will readily put on, and a couple that I will grudgingly wear. However, many of my friends look fine in pre-tieds, so it must be me, or my head, or something.
Like a snood and tichel, they are a distinctly Jewish hair covering, and I don’t think anyone but Orthodox ladies wear these.
To Sum Up
Those are some choices of non-sheitel hair-coverings. Of course, if none of those are your style, you could always go for something like this:
it was Purim, people
What’s your preferred non-sheitel hair covering choice?
Sheitel or tichel? Snood or pre-tied? Band fall or hat fall? If these choices don’t mean anything to you, you’re in good company. They didn’t mean anything to me before I delved into the world of Orthodoxy.
Part of choosing to be Orthodox was agreeing to cover my hair after I got married. I’m not going to go into detail about the “why” of this mitzvah. If you’re curious about it, I’m including some linkies:
Today I’m going to talk about my experience with my sheitels.
A sheitel, a wig, a faaaaaabulous wig. The subject of much discussion in Yeshivish circles. How to wear it, how often to get it done, how long it should last. Because of sheitels, I’ve seen grown women duck and cover speedily at the first droplet of rain. I’ve seen gorgeous, layered sheitels, falling near to the middle of a woman’s back. I’ve seen sheitels that are the epitome of practicality, with nary a nod to fashion. Sheitels so expertly blended with real hair that one would honestly never know it was a sheitel. Sheitels which clearly do not match the original, as a shock of hair reveals.
A brief history of my sheitels
I purchased my first sheitel when I was engaged, and spent around $1400. It was the first one I tried on, which is great mazel, or so everyone told me. It was cut and styled beautifully by the sheitel macher who sold it to me, and when she was finished I walked out of her salon with glamorous curls and long, side-swept bangs. I felt marvelous, I felt beautiful, I felt … anxious.
This was my first exposure to sheitel style anxiety. From the time the sheitel was styled, I felt a crushing anxiety that I shouldn’t mess up the coiffure, that it should stay PERFECT. And I felt this anxiety every time I would get my sheitel done. It was really aggravating.
Eventually, I learned that I should stick with uncomplicated styles, which tend to look decent for a while, and are less disappointing when they “fall.” Also, I just learned not to take my hair too seriously. It was not worth the stress.
this was still too high-maintenance for me
About six months or so into marriage, I purchased a second sheitel, a band fall. This is a sheitel without bangs, worn with a fabric band, or scarf, or whatever. It’s about half the price of a “full” sheitel (that’s the one with bangs), and I assigned the fall to be my weekday sheitel, saving my full, more expensive one, for Shabbos and Yom Tov.
nice and laid back. and half the cost.
It took me a while before I felt comfortable with my sheitels, but I’ve finally gotten there. I purchased a new full sheitel when we moved to Baltimore, and I absolutely love it. It’s very comfortable, not too much body, it wasn’t a fortune (okay, not a fortune for a sheitel), and I got a simple cut which works for me. I feel like it’s the fruit of four years of struggling with my sheitels – I knew what to look for when I was shopping for one.
Generally, I wear my sheitel when my husband is around, when I want to be incognito, or if I just feel like it would look better with my outfit. So I don’t wear one everyday, and sometimes I go a couple days without donning one. Other times I’ll find myself wearing one so constantly that I start to get tired of it. It just depends. When I’m not covering my hair with a sheitel, I’m covering it with other things, but we’ll get to that later.
How *not* to let people know you’re wearing a wig
When I was newly, newly married, I worked in a office. My boss was an Orthodox guy, but I was the only other Jewish employee, and I was basically the only other Jew that my co-workers had any interaction with. They didn’t know about the whole covering my hair with hair thing.
Eventually, one of my co-workers complimented me on how my hair looked perfect every day.
“Oh, this?” I said. “It’s a wig.” I saw her face quickly turn crimson. “For religious purposes, um, mumble bleargh….” I trailed off. I realized that I should probably think of a considerate, intelligent explanation for why I was wearing a wig. I still feel bad that my attempt at a nonchalant response made her so embarrassed.
One of my other co-workers didn’t believe that it was a wig, so she came up right to my head and inspected.
“No way! That’s unbelievable.”
Yes, it is a little unbelievable. Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have believed that I would be covering my hair with a wig, but, here I am.
What I love about my sheitels:
I don’t have to try hard to look nice. I can just put one on and BAM! Instant polish and coif. I cannot overstate how awesome that is. The only thing I use my hairdryer and flat iron for is entertaining Little Man.
I feel comfortable that all my hair is really covered. With tichels and hats and other coverings, I feel like there’s always some hair peeking out somewhere, and I’m constantly adjusting and tucking the errant hairs back in (I’m sure my tichel-only friends are much better at it than I am). With my sheitel, I don’t have to worry about it. With those sheitel clips in, that baby isn’t going anywhere.
The ability to blend in (unless it’s August and I’m still in long-sleeves when everyone else is in tank tops and shorts). In locations with scant Orthodox presence, it’s nice to have a less conspicuous option. Doctor’s offices, DMVs, the airport, you get the idea.
What I don’t love about my sheitels:
Well, there’s the price tag. They’re not cheap (though there is a fabulous sheitel consignment business here in Baltimore, and I have friends who have purchased sheitels through gemachs), and there’s not always a guarantee that spending $2K will lead to a good sheitel.
Someone else has to style it for me. I tried to do it myself. Big mistake. I do not have that talent. Also, if you don’t like the haircut, it’s not growing back.
When I’m feeling tired, I can’t really just plop onto the couch. I’m more reticent to lay my head down on a pillow when I’m wearing my sheitel. It’s not like I’ve never done it, but it’s just not great headgear for lounging.
At the end of the day, I like my sheitels. I’m happy to cover my hair with them. They work for me. And when they don’t, I have other options, which I will discuss in part two. Stay tuned!
One thing that Judaism has is lots and lots of mitzvos. Mitzvos that govern how to eat, talk, get dressed, get married. Most of the mitzvos are related to specific acts (like cooking) or specific times (like waking up in the morning). There are, however, six mitzvos that one is supposed to keep in mind all the time. They are known as the six constant mitzvos.
I was reading an article on Aish.com, and it reminded me that I hadn’t thought about these mitzvos in a while (yes, the irony is not lost on me).
One of the neat things about these six mitzvos, is that all the other mitzvos help feed into them. They are all kind of a way to develop a continual state of being aware of G-d. The six constant mitzvos are supposed to be what I’m thinking about all the time (yeah, I’m not there yet), and all the other mitzvos I do, like making a bracha before and after I eat something, for instance, are supposed to help me remember these basic six mitzvos. I love it when things are all interconnected like that.
So, a quick look at the first one:
Know that there is a G-d.
Yep. Rule number one. Think the first of the ten commandments. This is it, more or less.
It’s important to note the phrasing of this mitzvah, specifically that it says to “know” that there is a G-d, not to “believe” that there is a G-d. This is kind of tied in to last week’s Torah Tuesdays, about choosing to see the miracles in our life. When taking a closer look at the mind-boggling structure and order within nature, it can solidify one’s understanding that there is a Creator who arranged all of that.
One perk of this mitzvah is that it’s one of the easier ones to do as a mommy. Just take a moment during the day and say, “Hey, I know there’s a G-d.” It’s not the kind of mitzvah which can be interrupted by a baby, or that interferes with dinner prep. The trickiest part is remembering to do it. I heard of a lady once who took time to review the six constant mitzvos everytime she was at a stoplight.
That’s it for this week. Short and sweet. Take some time each day and try to do this mitzvah.
