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MAY 14: Synthetic wigs flew off the
shelves yesterday at Yaffa's Quality Wigs
in the Borough Park section of Brooklyn.
On the crowded streets of the
neighborhood, an increasing number of
Orthodox Jewish women were seen wearing
cloth head coverings, having left their
wigs at home. Sarah Klein, a neighborhood
resident, said that until the confusion
was cleared up, she would leave the house
only if she wore a baglike snood.
For thousands of Orthodox women, one of
the most fundamental practices of daily
life — adhering to the code of modesty
that prohibits a public display of their
hair after marriage — was thrown into
turmoil this week by a ruling from a
distant authority. More than 5,700 miles
away in Israel, several rabbis issued a
ban on wigs made in India from human hair,
which is used to make many of the wigs
sold in Brooklyn. The rabbis said the hair
may have been used in Hindu religious
ceremonies, which like other pantheistic
practices are considered idolatrous in
Orthodox teaching.
As a result, many of the women felt
obliged to put aside their costly wigs,
flocking instead to stores that sold
acceptable replacements.
"You have to hope whatever you have is
good, otherwise you put a thousand dollars
in the garbage," said a woman named Mindy,
who declined to give her last name for
fear of what her father-in-law would
think.
The commotion, like so many others that
take place every day in New York's myriad
enclaves, remained beneath the larger
city's radar, but it was of profound
importance to residents of neighborhoods
like Borough Park, where news of a
rabbinical ruling can spread like flame.
Prohibitions against idolatry are based on
Judaism's founding monotheistic beliefs,
and echo strongly in homes where even
portrait photographs are banned as graven
images.
"The way Orthodox people live their
lives is very complex to begin with," said
Chaya Lewis, an administrative assistant
at a school in Crown Heights. "We do
everything everybody else does, yet we
have guidelines. If this is a problem,
we're going to find a way."
The modesty regulations have given rise
to a thriving Brooklyn trade in wigs,
along streets like 13th Avenue in Borough
Park. Wigs of human hair are particularly
prized, and can cost several thousand
dollars. They not only look better, some
women say, but they also last longer.
One of the most respected Jewish
authorities in the ultra-Orthodox world,
Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, issued the
Indian hair ban from Israel on Wednesday,
prompting some people in Israel to create
lists of stores selling banned wigs and to
burn Indian wigs in bonfires, according to
Ha'aretz, an Israeli newspaper.
Rabbi Elyashiv's ruling was posted on
at least one Israeli news Web site, and
word quickly circulated in Brooklyn. But
the worry was not universal. Many
communities, like the large Satmar
community in Williamsburg, were awaiting
their own rabbis' rulings.
The issue had come up several years
ago, said Rabbi Yisroel Belsky, a leading
authority on Jewish law for the Orthodox
Union in the United States, but was
resolved without a ban. He said it
appeared that practices in the Hindu
temples where the hair of Indian women is
cut might have changed, prompting the new
ruling.
He said he would study the matter and
consider his own ruling, but for now stood
by Rabbi Elyashiv's interpretation. One of
the difficulties, he said, was discerning
just what the Hindu hair-cutters had in
their minds when they made their
offerings, because that had a bearing on
whether their acts were idolatrous.
Many women, rather than risk wearing
Indian hair or out of confusion born of
rumor, simply abandoned their human hair
wigs.
Not Celine Schonberger, 19. She learned
about the problem when her husband came
back from his synagogue on Tuesday and
asked if her wig was Indian or European.
"He said I was not allowed to wear
Indian," Mrs. Schonberger said. So she
checked with her wig maker. "It's 100
percent fine," she said. Her mother got an
O.K. from her own rabbi. An aunt bought a
snood. "She couldn't go out with her wig,"
Mrs. Schonberger said.
Others in the neighborhood said
teachers at a local girls school were now
appearing in snoods. Meanwhile, wig
manufacturers are sitting on huge
inventories of merchandise; private makers
are not even returning calls, for fear
they may end up violating the rules. Some
wig makers have advertised in a local
Yiddish paper that their wig hair is not
Indian, residents said.
At Yaffa's, business was bustling at 5
p.m. yesterday. "They emptied the shelves
already for synthetic," said one
saleswoman.
When the Uptown Girl Snood Factory
Outlet in Borough Park opened at 11 a.m.,
a line was already at the door, said
Michelle Aaron, the manager. "Thank God,
today's been great," she said, noting that
it was the second anniversary of her
father's death. "He sent me a blessing,"
she said.
Mrs. Klein, 48, was picking out a new
snood. She said she wanted to hear more
from the rabbis before going back to her
wigs. "I will be back in a wig once I know
what the rulings are," she said.
Fortunately, she said, she did not have to
go to Manhattan yesterday wearing the
headgear.
"I would look funny," she said. "One of
the goals of modesty is to blend. When you
wear a snood on the subway, you never
blend." |