A brazen hussy

Many years ago when I was in my early teens, my mother and I hit the big city to go to some sort of a play put on by the church.  It was at a huge, unfamiliar convention center and we wandered a bit before entering a large auditorium filled with people in dresses and suits.  It simply had to be the right place.  As we were looking for seats I kept getting evil glares from people.  I was bewildered.  When someone actually hissed something along the lines of "brazen hussy" I finally noticed that all the women were in dresses and I was wearing--gasp!--pants.  Red pants at that.  (Hey, this was the '70s.  Fashions were hideous. Just watch the old Brady Bunch reruns.)  It seemed we were in some sort of Saved Christian revival and pants were not acceptable for women.  Apparently they were the equivalent of slutty.

Fast forward to BYU this weekend.  I was just there to attend a musical performance and I wore my favorite black cami, bra and sweater.  I felt like a stripper. Shirts layered two and three deep that covered up to the clavicles were everywhere. And there I was showing a hint of what might possibly be cleavage!  I kept my sweater wrapped well around me the entire night lest someone hiss "brazen hussy" at me.  Wearing pants, showing clavicles.  Where will the sluttiness end!?