We were packing for Rome and the guide book cautioned us not to wear anything above the knee or sleeveless in the churches.
Not a problem for me, my days of mini skirts and spaghetti straps are long gone.
More of a problem for my daughter who likes to flex her muscles in the face of authority at times.
“What are they going to do if they see someone in shorts or a sleeveless dress?”
She was sceptical that such a mandate could be enforced given the massive tourist industry and the volume of headstrong young people like her entering, and roaming around, the eternal city.
I suppose she had never come face to face with another country’s dress code. Heaven help her in some of the more restricted cities of the world. I’d been stoned for less when I was her age and she knew that story,
“Oh Mum, that was a lifetime ago, things are different today!”
Are they?
Had no-one taught her the saying,
“When in Rome do as the Romans do”? Literally, in this case!
No more was said. We arrived, she unpacked the appropriate knee length dresses with cap sleeves and loose fitting capris and we went out.
It was Saturday so we found a church, not hard in Rome, and entered its hallowed magnificence to hear mass. Almost immediately she nudged me,
“Look over there,” she whispered and we saw two young girls with white felt shawls wrapped around their shoulders and tucked into the waist bands of their shorts.
Evidence of enforcement.
On the way out we saw “body cover up” attendants at all the doors. They held white rectangular pieces of fabric across their arms and were handing them out to men and women alike who were not dressed modestly enough for Roman places of worship.
My youngest was suitably impressed and made sure she had her own, attractive shawl with her at all times…just in case!
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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