LDS Women Are Airing Their Underwear in Public

Big changes are coming to women’s garments in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and members—both current and former—have a lot to say about it. From jubilant cheers to skeptical side-eyes, the announcement of new lightweight fabrics and sleeveless designs has sparked a conversation that’s equal parts excitement and existential crisis.

First, let’s get one thing straight: garments are sacred. They’re a tangible reminder of the covenants made in the temple and, as the Church Handbook puts it, “an outward expression of an inner commitment to follow the Savior Jesus Christ” (General Handbook: 38.5.5). Symbolically, they’re linked to the coats of skins God gave Adam and Eve as they left the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3:21)(if you’re unfamiliar with garments, they are shown and explained in this video). But let’s be real—they’re also underwear. And for LDS women, that means they’ve long dictated what we can and cannot wear.

For men, garment-friendly clothing is usually a non-issue. But for women? That little cap-sleeve top and biker-short bottom have been the bane of our fashion existence . They’re hot (especially in humid climates), they limit about 90% of clothing options, and let’s not forget the times we’ve accidentally flashed our garments to the entire Relief Society because a dress we thought would work definitely did not.

So, when the Church announced new lightweight, sleeveless designs and skirt-length bottoms, it was like the heavens opened and angels sang. Finally, a breathable, modern option! But let’s not overlook the real MVP of this update: lower armholes. Yes, you heard that right. For those of us who’ve been battling the Great Armhole Squeeze of 1924, this is the true miracle. Sleeves are one thing, but a little airflow under the arms? That’s the kind of divine intervention we’ve been praying for.

But with the excitement came a chorus of complaints: “Why didn’t this happen sooner?” “Why were we lectured about modesty for so long if it doesn’t matter now?” And my personal favorite: “The Church is lowering its standards to fit in with the world. As for me and my house, we will cover our wrists and ankles.”

Let’s address the modesty elephant in the room. Yes, modesty was hammered into us for decades, but let’s not pretend that was unique to the Church. The idea that a woman’s clothing could “tempt” men was a cultural norm, not just a religious one. Thankfully, society has shifted, and we now recognize that men are responsible for their own thoughts, regardless of what women wear.

The Church has been shifting, too. Sixteen years ago, when I was serving in Young Women’s, we were already moving away from modesty lectures. It was clear that asking teenage girls—who were growing like weeds and often on tight budgets—to find skirts long enough to satisfy every leader’s modesty standards was, frankly, unrealistic. Let’s be honest: dressing modestly often requires financial privilege. Don’t believe me? Go to Macy’s website, search for dresses, and sort by price. Spoiler alert: the cute, simple ones cost more.

I’m not dismissing the pain of those who felt judged. This is a good moment to apologize for skirt checks, swimsuit shaming, and any other well-meaning-but-misguided attempts to police each other’s choices. But let’s also acknowledge that most of this judgment happens within the Church. Our non-LDS friends aren’t tracing our underwear lines or scrutinizing our Instagram posts to see if we’re wearing garments with that square-neck dress. Nope, that’s all us.

I’ll admit, I’ve been guilty of this kind of judgment too. But in recent years, Church leaders have repeatedly reminded us to focus on our own covenants and worry less about others’. That’s a message worth internalizing.

The real challenge now? Refraining from judging each other as we navigate these changes. Some may cling to the old standards, and that’s fine—as long as they recognize it’s a personal choice, not a universal mandate. We all have our extra-orthodox quirks. For example, some people don’t wash clothes on Sunday. It’s a meaningful standard for them, but it doesn’t make them superior to those who do a load of laundry after church.

As for me, I’m thrilled about the new styles. As someone who suffers from heat exhaustion, I’ll be first in line for those sleeveless designs come summer. I don’t plan to overhaul my wardrobe, but I’ll definitely pick up a few new pieces. And if anyone wants to judge me for it, well, I’ll just remind them that my covenants are between me and the Lord—not them and my Instagram feed.