The Wrapunzelution has officially begun! Walking around Park Heighhts on Shabbos, the streets are dotted with colors that we are often only treated to in a bouquet of flowers. It’s not everyone yet, but it’s everywhere.

Every day as Andrea and I pack and fold Tichels, answer emails, make plans to do Wrapunzel shows around the US we wonder out loud what is this? What shift is happening that is making people open to challenge the stauts quo in head coverings?

The true answer, like anything Divine remains a mystery, but we’re seeing some things that may surprise you and help us to understand the depth of what’s going on.

Last month I shared with you “how I met my tichel.” Soon I was to discover that there was another Tichel Lady out there. Here’s how I met her!

It was two years since I started my website, Rivka Malka.com, as a way to reach out and connect to Jews whom I wouldn’t otherwise meet. Thanks to the excellent advice of Yisroel Bethea, I started by making tichel-tying videos. At first, I really didn’t want to. I thought, “Most of the people I’m reaching out to don’t cover their hair or are not even married.

Yisroel disagreed: “What will come through is your authenticity. That’s what people want. They know you for your tichels; go show them tichels.” So that’s what I did.

I grew up with a loving, sheitel-wearing mother. My mother always looked put-together. Despite raising nine kids, being “a lady” and looking beautiful for my father was priority for her. She used to tell me the story of how a certain Rebbetzin walked into our home early on in her marriage, and found her looking a bit disheveled.

The Rebbetzin scolded her. “This isn’t the way a Jewish mother looks when her husband comes home.” My mother said “But my make-up is upstairs. I can’t leave the children in the middle of everything that’s happening to put myself together.”

The wise Rebbetzin gave her sage advice: “Keep some make-up downstairs.”

When my mother told me the story, I was quite young and I didn’t really understand why it was a story. It had no plot, no climax. All I knew was that our bathroom cabinet had cosmetics in it and that, of course, who wouldn’t want to look great.

Now I realize that my mother, ever the teacher, was telling me something important. She was sharing with me wisdom of womanhood – not that you always need make-up but that your appearance matters. And it doesn’t stop mattering once you’re raising a family. It’s an integral part of your marriage and, more than that, of your self -image.

 Every job has a dress code, according to what the job is. When you dress in a lovely, put-together way as you show up for motherhood or wifehood, you’re letting the world know –you’re letting yourself know – that these jobs are important.