Commentary: Celebrate the new LDS garments. There’s no need to be red-faced about ‘White Tuesday’

On Tuesday, Oct. 28, I awoke to a text that said “CONGRATULATIONS!” It was from a friend who is not a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints but who had nevertheless sent me an article saying the new sleeveless garments were finally here.

I gasped, told her she was the best friend in the world and immediately forwarded it to five more friends. I went to post it on my Instagram story before deciding to be selfish and not share it. Maybe if I didn’t post it, the news wouldn’t spread too far.

I looked up what time the church distribution center nearest me opened and considered canceling my 10 a.m. physical therapy appointment so I could get there right on time. Grumpily, I let logic prevail and decided I would wait to swing by afterward and pick up a few pairs.

Oh, how naive I was.

I’d heard chatter, of course, that people would be lining up to buy the new garments, but I’d assumed it was all hyperbolic internet nonsense until I drove by and was in fact greeted by the awful sight of 75 people already waiting in line.

I was full of emotions. I felt angry that I wouldn’t be able to get them for myself and jealous of people who had time to wait. I felt regret at not canceling my doctor appointment. Most of all, I felt embarrassed that my people were willing to spend hours in line on a 45-degree Tuesday for the chance to wear a tank top.

After posting a video of the line to my Instagram story, my messages were flooded for the rest of the day. I had multiple Utah friends telling me my line was nowhere near the length of the Orem or Lehi stores. I had friends from Boston and Seattle saying they got in and out in 10 minutes. I shared more group texts lamenting that, alas, the church’s online store was still crashed. One friend joked that “the Swifties sold them out,” which made me curious about the Venn diagram of Latter-day Saint women who attended The Eras Tour, and those who waited in line for the new garments. I have a suspicion it’s one circle.

The waiting game

I saw nasty comments on both sides of this “Unspoken Divide” we seem to have here in Utah. Some church insiders were mad because they think it’s worldly to celebrate these changes. Some church outsiders were gleefully using it as proof that the faith is a cult. One commenter coined it “White Tuesday,” and I laughed before feeling mildly sick to my stomach. Because, really, what does it mean that so many Latter-day Saints are so eager to get their hands on these new temple garments?

The whole thing smacks of Black Fridays of yesteryear, when people would camp outside Best Buy or stampede Walmart to get a cheaper TV. Even in the digital era, line-waiting for the latest viral product or experience is very much a thing (remember the invention of Cronuts? The Color Factory?). Earlier this year, “Saturday Night Live” even did a skit called “Big Dumb Line” about the absurdity of visiting New York City to do just that. Whether it’s for deals or social clout, this kind of line-waiting has always felt icky to me. And so I spent White Tuesday in self-pity and ick, until I got another direct message at the end of the day.

This one was from a friend in Arizona who told me she waited in line for four hours and felt justified since it was still 90 degrees there. Then she said, with some embarrassment, that it was a fun cultural experience. We joked about how the last time either of us had stood in a line to buy something was when a new “Harry Potter” sequel came out.

For both of us, those memories are far from gross. I remember dressing up with my mom and staying up until midnight together for the first time. I remember her making an out-of-character splurge to buy two books instead of one, because although we shared a household, neither of us planned on waiting to read the next book. Those late nights at Barnes & Noble were joyful. They were about community. Is it possible White Tuesday could be the same?

If you look at this change on paper, it is so marginal it’s laughable. A few inches less on the shoulders will still mean that anyone wearing Latter-day Saint temple garments is wearing an outfit under their outfit. It’s easy to write it off as embarrassing or peculiar, and maybe it is. But I also wonder why we can’t all just let ourselves, or one another, be excited for a day.

Garments may keep changing

This is hardly the first time temple garments have changed, and I’m perplexed by the narrative that it’s wrong to celebrate the latest designs.

I have to imagine that when two-piece garments became available more than 40 years ago, Relief Society members gleefully shared the good news in the mother’s lounge. I imagine women in the 1920s heel-clicking a little higher at the ward line dance when their friends told them garments would now go only down to the elbows and knees instead of all the way to the wrists and ankles.

White Tuesday cannot be the first time Latter-day Saints — especially the women — have rejoiced over a shift in garment styles. It has just become more public. It’s tempting to judge people standing in line for the chance to wear tank tops for trying to assimilate with “the world.” But I doubt any of us would be happy wearing long sleeves year-round.

A week after White Tuesday, a friend texted to say the church’s online store was back up and running. I immediately dropped what I was doing to make my selections, begrudgingly clocking the notification that shipping would be delayed due to high demand. Then I saw another notification saying another new fabric will become available in the first quarter of 2026.

It was as far from an ad as you could get – a nondescript gray box with text and a simple image. And yet that was all it took to send my wheels spinning on what this new and improved option might be. More breathable? Comfier? Less of an outfit under my outfit?

Now I’m wondering what the next White Tuesday will look like, or what it could look like if I was in charge. In my world, we’d give out hand warmers and Swig hot chocolate to people waiting in line. Maybe someone would dress up like Moroni to hand out free CTR rings, or a “Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” cast member would come to promote her new line of tank tops. There would be friends running into one another, new people meeting and maybe realizing they were distantly related, and church music playing overhead. There would be the lively buzz of a community joyfully anticipating the next big thing in their weird little cult.

Note to readers • Rebbie Brassfield is a writer and creative director in the advertising industry. In real life, she’s a mom of two boys living in the suburbs. Online, you can find her overanalyzing media representations of Latter-day Saints on her Instagram account or podcast, “Mormons in Media” and as co-host of a monthly “Mormon Land” bonus podcast on Latter-day Saints in media. This story is available to Tribune subscribers only. Thank you for supporting local journalism.