Ice Queen

For an Orthodox preteen, Tonya Harding was a hero—and a Purim inspiration

By Dvora Meyers for Tablet Magazine
When Victoria Beckham last week told a panel of sports experts—that is, the ladies of The View—that she thought men should not wear feathers, I took offense at the swipe directed at Evan Lysacek, the just-crowned Olympic figure skating champion. He had pumped his feathered fists after a successful short program and wore a silver snake draped around his otherwise understated black outfit during the free skate. His costume was classier than the one I wore for Purim in 1994, when I went to synagogue as Tonya Harding, the disgraced bad girl of figure skating.

It was hardly an obvious costume choice for an Orthodox girl in Brooklyn. Rollerblading around the synagogue while brandishing a baseball bat, I wore a bright purple leotard over black leggings and rouged my cheeks to beauty-pageant standards. Though my collarbone, knees, and elbows were supposed to be covered (and not in clingy spandex) in keeping with Jewish law, I got around this restriction because I was still under 12 and had yet to enter formal Jewish womanhood, when dress guidelines went from suggestion to requirement. After my Tonya night, I thought, I would go quietly into adulthood, not minding the high necks and low hemlines I would have to wear.

But when I watched television or read my sister’s People magazine, which arrived every Sabbath afternoon, I would stare at the photos of celebrities and long to wear the same low-cut dresses and short skirts. I tried but failed to imagine what I would look like in those outfits. All I could see was my uniform—a long sleeved blouse paired with a plaid skirt that fell below the knees. It was tough to envision myself as an Olympic figure skating champion in such modest attire.

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