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I told you I wasn't making this up.
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tappu:
At some point in their lives, usually before a mission or marriage, worthy Mormon men and women undergo a special ritual called the endowment ceremony. I didn't know much about the endowment at that time, only that it took place in special sacred buildings called temples and that you weren't supposed to talk about the ceremony outside the temple. Oh, yes—and that after your endowment you had to wear special underwear called garments for the rest of your life.
I had seen garments, of course. My parents wore them, so it wasn't unusual to see my father slouching around the house in nothing but. Garments looked like normal white underwear, at least for the men, except that the briefs reached to your knees and the top had a scoop neck so they wouldn't show if your collar was open. They came in both one- and two-piece varieties. They also had arcane marks stitched into the fabric right over the nipples. I knew the marks symbolized something or other, but I had no idea what.
Garments for women were similar, if a little more frilly, but the really strange thing was that you were required to wear your garments next to your skin, with nothing between. That meant that the garment had to go on first, with the bra, panty hose, and whatever else going on over it. I can't imagine a more uncomfortable Christian dress code, unless you want to join the Amish and throw a floor-length skirt, a long-sleeved blouse, and a bonnet on over the top of that.
The scoop neck of the men's garment does leave a fairly visible signature, particularly if you have on a white dress shirt over it. Less reverent Mormons call that distinctive arc the "celestial smile," since you can't get into the Celestial Kingdom without it.
That's from Bill Shunn's site, www.shunn.net, specifically from the East Lansing chapter of The Road to Apostasy, which covers his trip to Clarion as a devout 17-year-old. And for my personal click-through convenience, it looks like the entirety of Terror on Flight 789, the true life story of Bill's adventures as a Mormon missionary and international terrorist (or: how to get kicked out of Canada), is now online.
tappu:At some point in their lives, usually before a mission or marriage, worthy Mormon men and women undergo a special ritual called the endowment ceremony. I didn't know much about the endowment at that time, only that it took place in special sacred buildings called temples and that you weren't supposed to talk about the ceremony outside the temple. Oh, yes—and that after your endowment you had to wear special underwear called garments for the rest of your life.
I had seen garments, of course. My parents wore them, so it wasn't unusual to see my father slouching around the house in nothing but. Garments looked like normal white underwear, at least for the men, except that the briefs reached to your knees and the top had a scoop neck so they wouldn't show if your collar was open. They came in both one- and two-piece varieties. They also had arcane marks stitched into the fabric right over the nipples. I knew the marks symbolized something or other, but I had no idea what.
Garments for women were similar, if a little more frilly, but the really strange thing was that you were required to wear your garments next to your skin, with nothing between. That meant that the garment had to go on first, with the bra, panty hose, and whatever else going on over it. I can't imagine a more uncomfortable Christian dress code, unless you want to join the Amish and throw a floor-length skirt, a long-sleeved blouse, and a bonnet on over the top of that.
The scoop neck of the men's garment does leave a fairly visible signature, particularly if you have on a white dress shirt over it. Less reverent Mormons call that distinctive arc the "celestial smile," since you can't get into the Celestial Kingdom without it.
That's from Bill Shunn's site, www.shunn.net, specifically from the East Lansing chapter of The Road to Apostasy, which covers his trip to Clarion as a devout 17-year-old. And for my personal click-through convenience, it looks like the entirety of Terror on Flight 789, the true life story of Bill's adventures as a Mormon missionary and international terrorist (or: how to get kicked out of Canada), is now online.