It's best if we just let women dress how they like

It was a wondrous sight out here so far deep in the desert. Where had they come from? What would the goats drink?

I remember that moment well because I was concerned for the poor wife who was garbed head to toe in dark black robes in sweltering desert heat.

It was so hot that bleached desert bones were sweating, cactuses folded over in deflated sighs of defeat.

That lady must have been ridiculously hot inside her robes; robes she was required to wear by law. So, she went on sweating and suffering and I just watched them go by on their journey out of sight with their herd of goats. I thought to myself if it was me out here so far away from anything and so blisteringly hot I would take off my robe, let some heat escape, get a tan, after all nobody could see. But she did not and she would never dare.

After a year in Afghanistan I went to the island of Cyprus for a much needed weekend to unwind. Unwind I did. On the beach, topless women, sun touched skin in olive Mediterranean pastels, splashing water on sleek beach bodies. They wore big smiles and enchanting giggles.

I sat and relaxed, watched the sun go down. I noted that even after a year in the desert in the visual abstinence of the beauty of the opposite sex replaced by formless black robes, I was not at all uncontrollably compelled to break down into a wild lustful frenzy; there would be no headlines like "Canadian man turns animalistic on a sexy tourist beach in Cyprus."

I and every other beachgoer were easily able to control ourselves; just the odd stolen glance is all, nothing so feral as to warrant puritanism and censorship of a woman's body.

I sat and felt placated, happy to be back in society with a wider variety and understanding of the freedom of expression. I reflected on that moment I had in the desert and it seemed to me that the oppressive black robes worn by the women to keep in their modesty and drive away lust did not seem so necessary.

Although, as a Canadian, Cyprus was a little too untethered even for me. That Canadian cold dictates we dress conservatively, practically, and ergonomically. It is far more practical to think of your body's circulation when the winter snows come. I am fine with tasteless insulated green winter boots if they keep my toes attached to my feet.

Ten years ago my first visit to the beach in Vietnam was particularly interesting watching the dressing habits of the Vietnamese. Often I would see people entering the water in jeans and t-shirts, impractical to swim in, but I could see how they make good protection from jelly fish stings.

Of course the conservative Vietnamese swimming suit is only one side of this story. Vietnamese fashion has now become one of the most unique and best in the world with fashion and modeling events, focusing on building intelligent, beautiful, and fashionable industrious women (and a few men). In 2021 Vietnam took victory in at least three international beauty contests, with only more to come in the next few years. Their creative will and artistic form throughout the fashion and beauty world is remarkable, and the momentum seems to be almost unstoppable at this point. Almost.

The organizer of Miss Universe Vietnam was recently fined VND70 million because one of its judges, supermodel Vu Nguyen Ha Anh, was wearing a dress deemed to be too revealing. And once again I thought about the dark robes, about the choice of ethical policing while a blind is turned to other crimes, like my neighbors constantly blasting karaoke through the neighborhood unimpeded and backed by their threats of violence if any one says anything to them. The paradox of condemning an artistic sexual expression while there is total silence on "bia om" karaoke bars full of fun-loving hedonism and beautiful scantily clad ladies. For me this seems to be proof that fining Ha Anh does not protect the ethical sensibilities of the nation. Only art is impeded while real crimes are ignored.

I tried to put myself in Ha Anh's shoes, how she feels when some men said what it is she can wear and can not wear. As an intelligent and artistic force, bringing positive recognition to Vietnam from around the world, Ha Anh must have felt hurt and betrayed, ugly and dirty, her free expression stifled like a body forced into a dark robe under the desert's sun.

The literal fashion police in their disheveled and unkempt appearance, their morals held high on their head, focusing on ethical crimes of all things but ignoring TikTok and mobile phones stealing children's imaginations. I say it is best if we just let woman dress how they like.

Let the simple and timeless phrase "you look great dear" continue to save many husbands a horrible headache.