Nobody in fact likes to talk about their underwear, and Mormons most likely have better reason than most to be reserved. They don't even call it "underwear." The term they prefer is "garments," which is in use from the King James Bible, and gives these scraps of white cloth a formal name to go along with the vaguely talismanic character they grasp in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They don't look like anything special: a white T-shirt and boxer briefs, slightly longer than standard, characteristic in nothing much but their flush and the fact that all adult, devout Mormons, men and women, be dressed in them.
Mormons don't use the word "underwear" to converse about their garments, and they surely don't use the word "magic," or actually consider that garments have any particular powers to stop bullets or stay them from getting sick or serve as a sort of nylon-and-cotton flame retardant. There are stories of some of these belongings, like there are stories of the relics of Catholic saints curing epilepsy or blindness, but to most Mormons these are faith-promoting rumors, evocative but archaic folklore. The garments are a sign of dedication, a marker of faith, to be respected for the same reasons that it's considered rude to burn a Koran, but barely mystical.
When confronted with raised eyebrows, Mormons frequently point to Jewish yarmulkes and tizzy, or the communion dresses of wide-ranging children, or the turbans of Sikhs and collars of some Christian clergy. Sacred clothing is hardly an innovation Joseph Smith came up with, and surely mockery of a yarmulke or a Sikh turban would be horrifying and verboten in most of the tolerant Western world, even in the genealogically Protestant United States, where "religion" is supposed to be amazing that you believe, not something that you wear, and sacred clothing seems strange and exotic. But, of course, Mormon garments are underwear. In the resolutely public world of modern America underwear is rather less dignified - and more chuckle-inducing - than something you put on your head. Mormons know this. Many of them discover the garments as awkward as any other American might. They are manufactured by the church, and particularly for women, wearing them can be a chore: the cut might be slightly off, or the bottoms baggy, or the collar rubbing. And, of course, garments mean that wearing a sleeveless dress flashes your underwear to the world, which is trying in Texas or Arizona. In the past forty years or so, covering the garments has become a marker of diffidence for Mormons, particularly women, and sleeves are therefore necessary. Combine that with the scoop neck garment shirt that many older Mormon men motionless wear and you can usually choose out Mormons on vacation in Florida.
Except for changing it often, my mother never told me what to do with my underwear. Probably because I am not a Mormon. Thank decency for that. The Mormon religion however, has an entire set of rules about that stupid issue. They look upon their under drawers as religious items that have to be worn, or else … no one is sure precisely what the “or else” entails.
There is cause for a likely conflict of interest. The underwear can only be purchased directly from the Church commissary. Even Sam Walton and Wal-Mart have been shut out of the market.
The plus side of the undergarments, as Mormons prefer to call them, is that they are said to protect the wearers from temptations and evil things. Gods will Ministries have not verified whether they are bullet proof, although traces of Kryptonite have been found in cloth samples. The underwear is said to keep Mormon chicks modest. It seems that not all Mormon females wear the sacred, secret duds, as a number of extremely hot; boastfully dressed Mormon chicks have been noted. Mormons are required to wear their underwear at all times, for their entire lifetime. No mention is made about ever changing them. This may deter many from joining the church. Also, it is not certain if the garments can be removed when engaged in sex, especially with an atheist. Once we get past the sniggering, Mormon underwear presents a fascinating site of study. Why are they worn and what do they represent? The answers, I suspect, differ really depending on who is talking. Anything that is so obviously personal, so close to the body, will undergo continuous transformation and be constructed in ways that ecclesiastics will never capture or admit. Whatever the official explanations or rationales, I’m sure they are less rich than more personal understandings. I’m also confident that garmies work on levels that Mormon leaders may not fathom. To give but one example, garmies fit nicely into the costly signaling theory of collaboration that is vogue in evolutionary studies of religion.
Mormon doctrine and academic theory aside, we can get some sense for the myriad customs Mormons perceive garmies in this pleasant piece by Valerie Tarico. Judging the symbolic possible by remarks from various garmie wearers past and present, I can envision an entire cottage industry for cultural anthropologists similar to that which surrounds Islam and the hijab. The difference, of course, is that garmies don’t provide a rich field for fashion, commodity, or authenticity analyses. This is not to say that garmies have not changed over time. As this LDS chart shows, they have:
It is to say that garmies, in spite of the challenging re-design and sales efforts of Mormon’s Secret, probably won’t be a fashion or identity statement anytime soon. But as Tarico recounts, garmies could become popular for other reasons:
In Mormon folk religion, Garments have particular powers. Stories are told of wearers being saved from bullets or a fiery death in a car crash. One story tells of a Mormon warrior during WWII who was killed by a Japanese flame thrower – but his Garment survived intact. The stories go back to Joseph Smith himself, who died in a hail of bullets without his Garment on. His friend, Willard Richards, who was trying his, emerged unscathed. Mormon historian Hubert Bancroft described the incident in his 1890 History of Utah: “This garment protects from illness, and even death, for the bullet of an opponent will not penetrate it. The Prophet Joseph carelessly left off this garment on the day of his death, and had he not done so, he would have escaped unharmed.”
Bancroft’s 1890 story about Joseph Smith and his bulletproof garment raises an fascinating opportunity. Two years earlier, in 1888, the Paiute prophet Wovoka revived the Ghost Dance and began hosting Native American visitors from around the country at the Walker Lake condition in central Nevada. In 1889, the Lakota shaman Kicking Bear visited Wovoka on behalf of the Sioux. By the time Kicking Bear arrived back in South Dakota, what would become the Sioux edition of the Ghost Dance had become more millenarian and militant. Kicking Bear told Lakota warriors that if they wore particular shirts, bullets could not harm them. Tragically, many Lakota discovered otherwise at Wounded Knee in 1890.
To outsiders there is little more charming about the Mormon religion than the underwear that Mormon temple initiates are expected to wear day and night. As one previous supporter put it, “I’ve been an exam since 1967. All that time, the underwear questions were the first ones I got from people who found out I had been Mormon.
A Mormon woman describes what happened when her husband told her that he had stopped believing in god. It is a moving story of the tensions that can arise flanked by believers and non-believers in the same family.
But despite the story being a serious one, there were some passages that made me laugh out loud, as in this one about what pressed her over the edge and made her decide to confide in a Mormon neighbor about her husband’s apostasy.
When Sean replaced his temple garments — the sacred underwear he’d promised to wear day and night — with boxers, I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much betrayal. But her Mormon neighbor and the church could not help her and as she too slowly relinquished her Mormon faith, the couple discovered some advantages to abandoning the Mormon lifestyle. Whoa, we suddenly have 10 percent more income. Whoa, our weekend free time just doubled. Whoa, we can try alcohol, coffee and tea — the trisect of forbidden drinks. And for her to the final sign that she had left her Mormon beliefs behind involved changing her underwear. When I shed my garments for greasy Victoria Secret panties, my self-esteem skyrocketed, and our late nights shifted to other things. Editorial cartoonists have a tradition of drawing politicians in their underwear. President Clinton is often drawn with his pants around his ankles and boxer shorts with a pattern of little hearts. The same treatment is due for chronological adulterer politicians like Newt Gingrich, Arnold Schwarzenegger and too many members of congress to list. Even Batman and Superman wear their underwear on top of their tights. As a leader cartoonist, I cherish my right to draw anyone I want in their underwear. Mitt Romney is a little dissimilar. He doesn’t seem to be an adulterer, and is certainly no superhero. As a devout Mormon, Romney is supposed to wear religious “garments” as his underwear, and I assume he does although he refuses to answer questions about his underwear. If Romney would talk about his underwear, I would be less motivated to draw him in his underwear; Romney’s “garment” silence interests me. Here are a couple of my cartoons with Romney wearing his Mormon “garments.” I have gotten a bit of flack from readers about drawing the mysterious underwear on Romney, but not as much as I anticipated, and I’ll keep drawing him this way at least waiting he talks about his underwear. Deprived Bill Clinton will continue to be haggard in his underwear whether he talks about it or not.
Mormons don't use the word "underwear" to converse about their garments, and they surely don't use the word "magic," or actually consider that garments have any particular powers to stop bullets or stay them from getting sick or serve as a sort of nylon-and-cotton flame retardant. There are stories of some of these belongings, like there are stories of the relics of Catholic saints curing epilepsy or blindness, but to most Mormons these are faith-promoting rumors, evocative but archaic folklore. The garments are a sign of dedication, a marker of faith, to be respected for the same reasons that it's considered rude to burn a Koran, but barely mystical.
 |
| Under garments |
When confronted with raised eyebrows, Mormons frequently point to Jewish yarmulkes and tizzy, or the communion dresses of wide-ranging children, or the turbans of Sikhs and collars of some Christian clergy. Sacred clothing is hardly an innovation Joseph Smith came up with, and surely mockery of a yarmulke or a Sikh turban would be horrifying and verboten in most of the tolerant Western world, even in the genealogically Protestant United States, where "religion" is supposed to be amazing that you believe, not something that you wear, and sacred clothing seems strange and exotic. But, of course, Mormon garments are underwear. In the resolutely public world of modern America underwear is rather less dignified - and more chuckle-inducing - than something you put on your head. Mormons know this. Many of them discover the garments as awkward as any other American might. They are manufactured by the church, and particularly for women, wearing them can be a chore: the cut might be slightly off, or the bottoms baggy, or the collar rubbing. And, of course, garments mean that wearing a sleeveless dress flashes your underwear to the world, which is trying in Texas or Arizona. In the past forty years or so, covering the garments has become a marker of diffidence for Mormons, particularly women, and sleeves are therefore necessary. Combine that with the scoop neck garment shirt that many older Mormon men motionless wear and you can usually choose out Mormons on vacation in Florida.
Except for changing it often, my mother never told me what to do with my underwear. Probably because I am not a Mormon. Thank decency for that. The Mormon religion however, has an entire set of rules about that stupid issue. They look upon their under drawers as religious items that have to be worn, or else … no one is sure precisely what the “or else” entails.
 |
| Nice garments |
There is cause for a likely conflict of interest. The underwear can only be purchased directly from the Church commissary. Even Sam Walton and Wal-Mart have been shut out of the market.
The plus side of the undergarments, as Mormons prefer to call them, is that they are said to protect the wearers from temptations and evil things. Gods will Ministries have not verified whether they are bullet proof, although traces of Kryptonite have been found in cloth samples. The underwear is said to keep Mormon chicks modest. It seems that not all Mormon females wear the sacred, secret duds, as a number of extremely hot; boastfully dressed Mormon chicks have been noted. Mormons are required to wear their underwear at all times, for their entire lifetime. No mention is made about ever changing them. This may deter many from joining the church. Also, it is not certain if the garments can be removed when engaged in sex, especially with an atheist. Once we get past the sniggering, Mormon underwear presents a fascinating site of study. Why are they worn and what do they represent? The answers, I suspect, differ really depending on who is talking. Anything that is so obviously personal, so close to the body, will undergo continuous transformation and be constructed in ways that ecclesiastics will never capture or admit. Whatever the official explanations or rationales, I’m sure they are less rich than more personal understandings. I’m also confident that garmies work on levels that Mormon leaders may not fathom. To give but one example, garmies fit nicely into the costly signaling theory of collaboration that is vogue in evolutionary studies of religion.
Mormon doctrine and academic theory aside, we can get some sense for the myriad customs Mormons perceive garmies in this pleasant piece by Valerie Tarico. Judging the symbolic possible by remarks from various garmie wearers past and present, I can envision an entire cottage industry for cultural anthropologists similar to that which surrounds Islam and the hijab. The difference, of course, is that garmies don’t provide a rich field for fashion, commodity, or authenticity analyses. This is not to say that garmies have not changed over time. As this LDS chart shows, they have:
It is to say that garmies, in spite of the challenging re-design and sales efforts of Mormon’s Secret, probably won’t be a fashion or identity statement anytime soon. But as Tarico recounts, garmies could become popular for other reasons:
In Mormon folk religion, Garments have particular powers. Stories are told of wearers being saved from bullets or a fiery death in a car crash. One story tells of a Mormon warrior during WWII who was killed by a Japanese flame thrower – but his Garment survived intact. The stories go back to Joseph Smith himself, who died in a hail of bullets without his Garment on. His friend, Willard Richards, who was trying his, emerged unscathed. Mormon historian Hubert Bancroft described the incident in his 1890 History of Utah: “This garment protects from illness, and even death, for the bullet of an opponent will not penetrate it. The Prophet Joseph carelessly left off this garment on the day of his death, and had he not done so, he would have escaped unharmed.”
 |
| Comfortable garments |
Bancroft’s 1890 story about Joseph Smith and his bulletproof garment raises an fascinating opportunity. Two years earlier, in 1888, the Paiute prophet Wovoka revived the Ghost Dance and began hosting Native American visitors from around the country at the Walker Lake condition in central Nevada. In 1889, the Lakota shaman Kicking Bear visited Wovoka on behalf of the Sioux. By the time Kicking Bear arrived back in South Dakota, what would become the Sioux edition of the Ghost Dance had become more millenarian and militant. Kicking Bear told Lakota warriors that if they wore particular shirts, bullets could not harm them. Tragically, many Lakota discovered otherwise at Wounded Knee in 1890.
To outsiders there is little more charming about the Mormon religion than the underwear that Mormon temple initiates are expected to wear day and night. As one previous supporter put it, “I’ve been an exam since 1967. All that time, the underwear questions were the first ones I got from people who found out I had been Mormon.
A Mormon woman describes what happened when her husband told her that he had stopped believing in god. It is a moving story of the tensions that can arise flanked by believers and non-believers in the same family.
But despite the story being a serious one, there were some passages that made me laugh out loud, as in this one about what pressed her over the edge and made her decide to confide in a Mormon neighbor about her husband’s apostasy.
When Sean replaced his temple garments — the sacred underwear he’d promised to wear day and night — with boxers, I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much betrayal. But her Mormon neighbor and the church could not help her and as she too slowly relinquished her Mormon faith, the couple discovered some advantages to abandoning the Mormon lifestyle. Whoa, we suddenly have 10 percent more income. Whoa, our weekend free time just doubled. Whoa, we can try alcohol, coffee and tea — the trisect of forbidden drinks. And for her to the final sign that she had left her Mormon beliefs behind involved changing her underwear. When I shed my garments for greasy Victoria Secret panties, my self-esteem skyrocketed, and our late nights shifted to other things. Editorial cartoonists have a tradition of drawing politicians in their underwear. President Clinton is often drawn with his pants around his ankles and boxer shorts with a pattern of little hearts. The same treatment is due for chronological adulterer politicians like Newt Gingrich, Arnold Schwarzenegger and too many members of congress to list. Even Batman and Superman wear their underwear on top of their tights. As a leader cartoonist, I cherish my right to draw anyone I want in their underwear. Mitt Romney is a little dissimilar. He doesn’t seem to be an adulterer, and is certainly no superhero. As a devout Mormon, Romney is supposed to wear religious “garments” as his underwear, and I assume he does although he refuses to answer questions about his underwear. If Romney would talk about his underwear, I would be less motivated to draw him in his underwear; Romney’s “garment” silence interests me. Here are a couple of my cartoons with Romney wearing his Mormon “garments.” I have gotten a bit of flack from readers about drawing the mysterious underwear on Romney, but not as much as I anticipated, and I’ll keep drawing him this way at least waiting he talks about his underwear. Deprived Bill Clinton will continue to be haggard in his underwear whether he talks about it or not.
