Sister Missionary Fashion Show

One of the many things I have to do to prepare to leave for my mission is finding clothing to wear. And it can be difficult sometimes because, you know, there are rules...

Sister missionaries have to dress even more modestly than most Mormons do, BUT the church has changed the guidelines so they don't have to look as...as...conservative? (I'm being nice).

This is how they used to dress. 

As you can see there are a lot of long skirts and dark clothing. I know for certain that the skirts used to have to come to mid-calf. It's hard to find that length so most missionaries settled for long skirts. I'm not sure if un-form fitting or button up shirts were rules too (some people have told me yes) or if that was just what developed over time. Regardless, it wasn't attractive. 

The elder definitely have it easier because of what this says:

At the very least they don't look dumpy. 

I'm really not trying to be mean! It's just how it was. Plus, I bet it was frustrating because a good amount of these girls dressed very fashionably before and after they were missionaries. They looked like totally different people. 

Finally the church realized that people were not as responsive to sister missionaries as to the elders. Some of it was because they thought the sisters were polygamists. But I think it was because women thought that if they joined the church they would have to dressed like the missionaries who were teaching them did and men were worried they're wives would. 

So the church changed the guidelines. They now encourage patterns, colors, more form and less bagginess, and allowed to the skirts to be shorter, they just have to cover the knee while sitting down. 

http://missionary.lds.org/dress-grooming/sister/

My mom and I have been worrying about this for awhile. It was important to both of us that I look fashionable (especially in Paris!!!), but we still needed to make sure I was modest. After a few shopping trips we think we're on our way. I'm supposed to have 8-10 out fits. I have a few dresses, but our goal is to have skirts which can be paired with several different shirts which will create opportunity for a lot more than 10 outfits without taking up too much space.

I divided them into winter and spring.

Winter

Spring. As you can see I like turquoise, but I bought
a skirt with pinks and yellows for variety.

In addition to skirts, shirts and dresses I've also bought several sweaters in different colors; turquoise, purple, black and white, I'm still looking for a pink one. I've also bought a white dress jacket because I've heard that some mission presidents require dress jackets for baptisms and meetings with the president. I haven't heard if that's the case for my mission, but I thought it couldn't hurt. I'm looking for a black one too.

The last thing I should talk about  are the shoes. As cute as the clothes can be now, you pretty much can't have cute shoes because they aren't practical. This is the part that is killing me the most. I LOVE shoes, but there is no way you can wear high heals and walk 9 hours a day, especially on the cobble stones of Paris. And you don't even really want to buy cute flats because most of them with wear out in a couple of months and they don't have very good support. 


So, I broke down and bought ugly, but durable and comfortable shoes; one pair black and one pair brown. Hopefully, after a few months in the field I'll be so focused on the work that I won't care as much. I'm thinking about bringing a pair of white flats, even cheap ones, because I wouldn't wear them too often and they would really help complete a few summer outfits. I have to convince my mom first because there is the issue of luggage space.

Getting My Mission Call Part 2

Tuesday night, the night before I was told my call would come was stressful, but only because I was feeling guilty over my possible reaction to my call. You see, my minor is French teaching and it's kind of important that I know French. However, the language wasn't coming easily for me and going on a French speaking mission was exactly what I needed. If that wasn't going to happen, then I needed a "useful" language like Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Russian or maybe German.  


However, I was horribly conflicted because I was worried that having these feelings meant that if I didn't go to a country with a "useful" language then I would be mad the whole time and wouldn't be a good missionary. These feelings had been plaguing me for months, but on that Tuesday it was so bad I couldn't sleep. Eventually with some praying and soul searching I realized that I had to be the one to make the decision to be a good missionary. Once I did that I finally found the relief I had been waiting for and promptly passed out on my pillow.


The next day I went about class as usual just waiting to get done with my classes so I could check the mail. Right before my last class I received a text from my roommate telling me to "check it"! What?! The mail? Couldn't check that because I was at school. Facebook, maybe? When I called my roommate all she did was yell "CHECK IT" in the phone and hung up, so I was still in the dark. 


Then I saw this on my Facebook.

I wanted to skip my last class, but I realized it wasn't like my call was going to change or anything during the time I was in class. So for 50 minutes I sat through Korean History and looked at the clock every 30 seconds.

Finally, I rushed home and called my parents to tell them I would be calling them back in a few minutes with the news! My roommates took this picture. 

They wanted to do it in front of the Eiffel Tower in our apartment, but I 

thought it would look stupid if I didn't get called to Paris.

Then I took the envelope and drove to the road that goes above the Temple.I ripped into my call (I always thought I would cry for a few minutes before hand, but I wasn't that patient).

The first word I saw was "hereby" which was a relief because it meant I was actually getting a call rather than a rejection letter. Then I saw "France Paris". 

Honestly, I was shocked. I figured that if I were lucky enough to go French speaking it would be to New Caledonia or Montreal. I couldn't believe I was actually getting to go back to that beautiful, beautiful city.

The top half of France is my mission. The bottom half of Belgium and all of 

Luxembourg are part of it as well. They're shaded gray on the map.

I called my parents and, after my mom finished screaming, I drove back to my apartment and told my roommate's. And we took this picture and called a million people to tell them the news.

Getting My Mission Call Part 1

For any non-members reading this blog, a "call" is what we Mormons have named the place one is assigned (called) to serve as a missionary. Not to be confused with a  "calling". You can look that one up yourself. 


Also, a "ward" is what we call individual Mormon congregations. All the Mormons in a certain area ("Stake", as in the stakes that hold town a tent, not the meat) are divided into wards of about 300 people based on where they live, kind of like school zones, and then are assigned a time and place to meet for church.


And now to continue with my story...






Eventually I had my interviews and my papers were submitted. And then the waiting began for my call.


This was the hardest part of the whole process. There is really no set time that it takes. One normally hears that in Utah it takes about two weeks, but not always. And whenever someone heard that I was waiting for my call they felt that they had to tell me all the horror stories. Most of them had to do with their Stake President forgetting to turn their papers in or losing them all together. My roommate's call took 4 months! When she called to see if they got them at the mission office in SLC they just said that they had received them, but they just didn't know where to send her yet.


So with all of these stories in my head I waited. Then, a week later, a guy in my ward who'd turned his papers in the same day as me got his call to Sweden (Yay Nick!) and my call didn't come. 


I was given some interesting piece of news though. Apparently the Bishop of our ward got news from Salt Lake that Nick's call was coming the weekend before it came. I had no idea it was possible to know before hand. So now those of you working on your papers right now know that this is a possibility.


But seriously ya'll, the waiting was driving me crazy. I was checking the mail every day, filled with a thousand disappointments every time it didn't come.

The next Sunday came and the executive secretary told me the Bishop wanted to see me. I was convinced it was something bad such as the mission office had just told him they would be unable to give me a call for whatever reason. We had just had a lesson in Relief Society about how the Lord is with you through all trials, so while I walked downstairs to his office I just kept telling myself that I was going to be OK because I had the Lord on my side no matter what (not as comforting as I would have hoped, but I still believe it today).

When I got there the Bishop told me I was going to receive my call either on Wednesday or Thursday depending on how long the mail took. This would be a good time to inform you that in Utah (Provo) calls almost always come on Wednesday. Then there was the awkward moment where I wasn't sure if he was going in for the handshake or the hug. It ended up being this weird sort of side hug.

But I digress. And it's getting late so I'll have to do Part 2 of this experience tomorrow.