This letter is written in love and with sincere
compassion to all the pretty girls who long to be
"all that," to be in style, to look hot and be
attractive to men and boys.
Dear Pretty Girls ~
I am thinking of you today... and my heart is heavy.
O, how I wish you'd come over so we can talk.
I have so much I wish I could share with you. I saw
you at the store and I saw you walking by the
school; I saw you at the library, and I saw you at
the party; I saw you at the bank and I saw you on
the bus. I saw you at the game night and I saw
you at church. Everywhere I saw you, I saw
other's eyes on you as well. You nervously
smiled at all the attention you were receiving.
It was almost embarrassing to you to be receiving
all the looks you were getting and yet you loved it
at the same time. It was obvious that what you
were craving almost made you sick at the same time.
It was as if you felt cheapened by all the gawking
but you seemed to laugh it off, to brush it off -
with even a bit of surprise and anger at the
forwardness of those who were gazing at you and
perhaps unbeknownst to you: undressing you with
Perhaps my telling you this will cause you hostility
and perhaps you'll be a bit defensive - telling me
that I don't know where it's at or that I don't know
what I'm talking about. I understand that you
might experience that reaction and that you might
attempt to build an argument for your attitude and
for the type of clothing you wear. Most pretty
girls attempt to cover their insecurity by dressing
to please, dressing to attract and dressing to get a
reaction. But, sadly, when they get the
reaction they thought they desired, they're most
often left with an emptiness because they then
realize the reaction was only selfish on the part of
the ones giving the looks and attention... and they
feel empty and used.
I wish you knew that you're a treasure. I wish
you could understand the damage you're allowing
yourself. And I wish I could convey to you how
precious you really are and that your worth really
is far above rubies - O, could you please stay for a
cup of tea so that I could sit with you a bit longer
to tell you that you need to guard the blessing of
your life, the gift of your body and the precious
treasure of the gift you will one day be to your
husband? You see... the man you will likely
marry is somewhere out there. You may or may
not know him at this point now — but he is out there
and along with all the other men, he's in a battle.
And if one of the men out there is your husband then
you know what that means? All the others are
not. Could you remain pure for him in thought,
deed and appearance? Could you protect the
gift of your very life?
I wish you knew what you were really doing as you
choose the type and style of your clothing each day
and as you go about your work and activities.
I wish also that you knew what you are doing to all
the men who are lusting after your enticing body.
I wish you knew what was really happening to you as
an object of their lust. I wish I could convey
to you how dead-end it all really is when you entice
others and they trip and fall over your beauty and
sensual dress. It's a dead end because
they can never rightly or honestly or morally
fulfill the desire they're experiencing at the time
— nor can you, by the way.
I wish you knew the battles in the minds of men and
how your behaviour eventually destroys them as they
tangle themselves deeper and deeper into the sticky
web of lustful thoughts and desires. The
things they love for a moment, they later loathe.
They loathe themselves later because they see your
agreeable behaviour, your interest in them and they
realize they never had any intention at all to
actually draw you to themselves — for they were only
window-shopping and you were buying.
Eventually you both lose.
I wish I could convey to you how your activities,
your walk, the way you sit, the way you lean over,
the way you bend in your tight jeans, the way you
reach for things in your tight-fitting short tops —
O, I wish I could tell you how you're giving away
your precious self—your precious treasure and at the
same time causing a war in the minds of young men
who cannot escape your gaze.
O, how I wish I could convey how young men, old men
and men in between think. They are all enticed
by the form of a woman. They all are
physically aroused by the provocative dress and
behaviour of women. Even if you are actually
baring your skin, the hint of your form, the
emphasis of your hips, your bottom, your thighs or
your breasts will be driving their thoughts wild.
You may be thinking: great... that's what I want to
do. You may be thinking: Sicko's, they should
get a handle on those thoughts. You may be
thinking: those perverts, they only have one thing
on their minds. You may be thinking: Am
I supposed to dress like a nun so they won't look at
me? You may be thinking: what they do in
their thoughts is *their* problem — not mine!
Or... you may be thinking. No, no, no.
Not all guys are like that. My guy friends are
just not like that. They do not think about
all that stuff... we're just friends.
Ah, and there's where you would be wrong.
Your low pants, your sliver of skin, the tight
shirts, the lace peeking out, the way your tight
jeans emphasize your crotch, the slit up the back of
your skirt... the eyes of men finish the form— they
finish the lines, they finish the rest of what you
think you're covering. They guess if you're
wearing a thong or if they can catch a glimpse of
the type of bra you wear. Please don't laugh
and think this couldn't be true. I tell you
the truth, men are very, very visual— they may miss
a lot of other things, the subtle nuances of things,
but they are, indeed, very, very visual.
All men battle the lust of the eyes, lustful
thoughts, lustful longings. All men.
Where they are in the battle depends on how much
they desire to have pure thoughts and pure motives
and pure intentions. Men who seek to follow
after the LORD, men whose hearts are yielded to His
ways are just as tempted as those who aren't walking
with the LORD - please make no mistake - it is a
battle. For all of them. Ask your father, ask
any man. Hot clothes = hot men. No
kidding. What a trap.
But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a
woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with
her already in his heart.
By the grace of God, by shear faith and
determination they fight the battle.
"I made a covenant with mine eyes; why then should I
think upon a maid?"
I wish I could convey to you this day the importance
of modest dress and behaviour. I wish I could
somehow impress upon you that your clothing and
behaviour matters and that men — young and old — are
losing the battle with each passing of an enticing
woman. Your provocative clothing is actually
mean and it's deceiving. You sabotage attempts
at righteousness with flirtatious, revealing
clothing. Ask any brother.
Fashions come and go, and though you think your
popular, trendy reputation depends on wearing the
latest fashion, I want you to know that your
reputation depends on what you do with what you're
I love you, pretty girls, for if I didn't, I
wouldn't have written to you today. And I would have
let you walk on as an object of other's lusts and
affections. I couldn't do that and still love
ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye
light in the Lord: walk as children of
light: (For the fruit of the Spirit is in
all goodness and righteousness and truth;)
Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord.
And have no fellowship with the unfruitful
works of darkness, but rather reprove them.
Please, girls... get dressed; as unto the LORD. And
may He bless and direct your steps and be your all
With love from your friend, pamela