Recently, I was attending a community meeting.
There was as always scholarly insight and important information shared. I was and always feel fulfilled by these meetings.
I’m having trouble remembering some of the meeting’s highlights, because for me that meeting came down to an unfortunate remark from a rabbi.
So I’m walking through the meeting, getting ready to leave when the rabbi, who I choose not to name, walks over to me.
Instead of reaching out his hand and saying simply “hello,” he alludes to my clothing with a put down.
I was wearing a khaki pair of slacks, blue shirt and khaki jacket.
His comment to me was, “what are you, the ice cream man?”
That was the best he could do.
Why do I comment on this?
A couple of years ago, I was at a kosher market with a friend. We were picking up food for our shul’s seudat shlishi (Shabbat dinner). We were both wearing tan autumn jackets, the type of garment that keeps the chill off as the seasons turn from summer to fall.
In this market were men and women, mostly dressed in black. One man we both knew, donned in a black suit, white shirt and black hat came over to us and asked without a smile on his face, “are you guys trying to be twins?”
The irony of such a quip didn’t dawn on him as we all looked around at a market filled with people dressed just like he was dressed.
So what am I getting at?
Walk to shul on Shabbos, frequent a store during the week and in the Orthodox community in recent years, even sweet, cute little children are wearing shades of black.
If a child now is in pink or blue or yellow or green or heaven forbid, red, it is clearly looked down upon. It’s almost like an unsaid competition of the blacker your clothes, the more religious you are.
Wear khaki, and you are now the “ice cream man.”
If the sages themselves, in colorful robes, scarves and head coverings were to walk in certain neighborhoods, doors would be locked at their approach.
This, of course comes from the top down. It comes from smart aleck remarks from a sub-culture more worried about the white and black of their clothing than they are concerned about helping one another as human beings.
What it’s also done is it has yet again separated one part of our community from another. A Torah scholar could wear a blue shirt and that would not be considered frum enough in some circles. A woman could wear a pretty, floral dress in honor of spring, and be judged as not a good example for her children.
Say hello to people. Make them feel good about themselves. Find out what’s on their minds. Reach out to them.
My God rabbi, where did you get this from?
So what the rabbi didn’t know was that for me, the use of the term “ice cream man” was a double whammy.
I have written before that I am a survivor of sexual molestation.
The person who molested me was a man named Bob Weisman. He owned a truck. An ice cream truck.
He was an “ice cream man.”
That’s the black and white of it.
Nice suit rabbi.

What about the relatively trend of women being confined to black and white only in certain circles.  I think if you would compare a scene from 10 years ago to today of the women leaving certain shuls after Shabbos morning services you would see a vast difference.  It used to be normal for women to wear all types of colors.  To be dressed all in black would be very odd unless you were attending a funeral.  Now almost every single one is dressed all in black, with perhaps a bit of white on some of them, and no colors at all.

I wonder what will happen when Mashiach comes and he’s not wearing a hat.

You say that if the sages were to arrive in our times wearing colorful outfits etc. then they would be looked upon as ’ not frum enough ‘.  It’s not even that much - if they weren’t wearing silly black fedoras (and G-d forbid they be grey or blue) then they would be looked upon as outsiders. I could say a lot more cynical things also, but that pretty much sums it up.