The Tichel Trend and Redemptive Consciousness

As readers begin this article, they may think I am opening a can of worms. And indeed, while I love provocative and even polemical conversations, I want to bring up a topic loaded with a painful history and explore it through what I consider a beautiful lens. I want to bring a redemptive (pun intended) tone to the conversation surrounding women’s head covering with a scarf as opposed to a wig—something that for decades has been fraught with divisiveness, shame, and blame. More fundamentally, I want to show how this developing story is a reflection of a macro step toward redemption, as redemptive consciousness slowly but surely begins shining in and through the Jewish people.

Recently, I have noticed a subtle yet noteworthy trend in the frum world. Honestly, I have not done enough research to know its exact scope. And yet, even if this trend is still very small, I want to acknowledge it—and perhaps even manifest into existence the beautiful things that are yet to come.

I am referring to the growing voice of women who cover their hair with a headscarf rather than a wig, a voice that is softly yet definitively beginning to be heard in more mainstream circles. Elie Rosenbluth’s podcast on the Living L’Chaim Media Network and “The Little Tichel Lady” account on Instagram, where she uses her headscarf store as a platform for women to share their experiences of covering their hair, are just two examples.

This voice moved me deeply and excited me for reasons that go well beyond the discussion of head coverings, as I’ll explain. And yet, from the very outset, I want to state something clearly. As I write these words, I myself cover my hair with a long lace-top sheitel. Moreover, while I agree with the ideas I am about to present, I do not judge myself, you, or anyone who covers her hair with a wig. Nor do I judge women who do not cover their hair at all. I simply have deep respect for anyone who keeps this beautiful mitzvah in whatever way she is able, because I know well how much mesirus nefesh it entails for so many of us.

While there have always been voices against sheitlach in general—or against certain lengths and styles such as lace tops and the like—those campaigns were, in my opinion, very exilic in nature. As I perceive it, however, the subtle shift that is now taking place is quietly and modestly redemptive. The difference is not merely in the conclusion being reached, but in the spirit from which it emerges.

To me, this new awareness is definitionally redemptive. Why? Because one of the defining features of Galus is fragmentation: fragmentation between communities, conflicting desires and goals, body and soul, the different “parts” in the language of IFS, Hashem and the Shechinah, dry Halacha and broader Ratzon Hashem. In exile, the law and the spirit themselves can become fragmented.

One could explain that every mitzvah has both a body and a soul. The body consists of the dinim, the details, and the technicalities involved in performing the mitzvah. However, every mitzvah also possesses a soul—the divine essence within it, the goal and vision Hashem has in mind when He commands it.

In Galus, we have rightly focused on the body of the mitzvos, sometimes without being able to fully grasp their soul. This model is not merely understandable; it is absolutely correct, and it is the very reason for our survival as a nation. If the body is missing—if the structure does not exist—then the light of the soul has nowhere to rest or shine, even when the eventual reunification takes place.

However, as incredible and indispensable as this has been, throughout Galus Jews could be scrupulously observant of Halacha while, in one way or another, not fully reaching the soul of a mitzvah—not being completely aligned with what Hashem ultimately had in mind.

To me, seeing that some women are intuitively sensing that scarves are a more optimal way to fulfill kisui rosh—not necessarily as a halachic category, but as a deeper alignment with Ratzon Hashem—is profoundly moving. Whether or not that intuition is correct, the very desire to fulfill a mitzvah in the way one believes is most aligned with Hashem’s will feels, to me, deeply redemptive.

Many would ask: How do I dare state publicly that tichels are more optimal than sheitels when many of my mentors and so many righteous Jewish women today cover their hair with sheitels?

I would not.

In fact, I believe that wearing a sheitel is an optimal form of head covering. It is fully halachic, and it complies with what Hashem asks of us. However, as I understand it, sheitels are optimal within an exilic reality. If your halachic authority permits them, there is absolutely nothing wrong with wearing a sheitel in Galus.

I would love to write more about why I believe that sheitels are not a redemptive form of head covering. But for now, I would simply like to suggest the following.

The reason is that, to me, the distinction between Galus and Geulah is fundamentally the distinction between concealment and revelation.

While Geulah is essentially about revelation, Galus is fundamentally about disguise and concealment. In Galus, Hashem’s immanent Presence is hidden while those who brazenly deny and defy Him often appear to thrive. In Galus, the Jew struggles to perceive his own goodness and naturally experiences shame and a lack of confidence, while the perfection of his Divine soul—the “Lost Princess”—is held captive behind the thick prison walls of exile.

Geulah, by contrast, is all about revelation. It is about peeling away the layers and uncovering what is ultimately real, truthful, and authentic. Perhaps that is why, as Mashiach draws closer, authenticity itself has become increasingly attractive—provided it is not distorted or abused as an excuse to justify the weaknesses of the animal soul.

When Mashiach comes, we will no longer be able to disguise who we truly are. And as I see it, sheitels themselves are a form of disguise. They are disingenuous—not, God forbid, in an unethical sense, but in a way that does not yet reflect the higher standard of emes that will characterize the Messianic era.

Why do we cover our hair while simultaneously attempting to appear as though we have not covered it? Is there not something fundamentally deceiving about that?

When Mashiach comes, we will live in a reality where “what you see is what you get,” and equally, “what you get is what you see.” There will be complete transparency. Paradoxically, hair covering itself will become an act of revelation rather than concealment.

Thirdly, as I mentioned earlier, throughout contemporary Jewish history there have been campaigns against wigs. This emerging voice, however, is entirely different—in what it says, in how it is presented, and perhaps most importantly, in who is presenting it.

First of all, it is not a campaign against wigs or against the women and communities that wear them. Rather, it is women sharing their own journeys while promoting what they personally experience as a hiddur in kisui rosh. It is not about condemning what is wrong from a place of fear, but rather about promoting what they believe is even better from a place of love and commitment to Hashem.

Consequently, at least from what I have encountered, this voice is remarkably unpretentious. I do not hear the undertone of, “I am holier than you because I wear a headscarf instead of a wig.”

Most importantly, I believe it matters who is leading this movement. To me, the medium is just as redemptive as the message. It is women themselves bringing about bottom-up change, rather than a mekubal from Meah Shearim, a Sephardic Rav, a Chassidish Rebbe, or the Vaad of an ultra-Orthodox town imposing change through institutional authority, sometimes accompanied by insensitive and unfounded claims attributing tragedies that befall Jews or Jewish communities to women wearing sheitels, lace tops, and the like.

Positive, bottom-up change initiated by deeply committed women feels profoundly redemptive to me. Just as I imagine the Messianic process itself, it is not systemic or institutionalized. It does not emerge from authority or fear, but rather from the inner desire of every Jew to fulfill what Hashem wants from us—from the ahavah mesuteres that burns within every Jewish soul.

Regarding bottom-up change more broadly, I believe it will characterize the Messianic process itself. As Hashem becomes increasingly revealed and Jewish consciousness expands and heightens, individuals and communities will evolve organically, as the Jewish spirit and authentic Torah leadership become increasingly aligned, bringing to fruition the Messianic reality of palpable divinity and authentic righteousness.

I even have a personal theory. While Torah leadership and authority have traditionally been entrusted to men—reflecting the masculine role of the mashpia, the giver—I believe that these organic, intuitive, bottom-up, redemptive steps will increasingly be brought about through women. As the mekabel, the receiver, we take what genuine Torah leadership has given us, nurture it, beautify it, and allow it to blossom into a beautiful sprout of redemption.

Let us remember that we only left Mitzrayim because of the “awakening from below,” the feminine dimension interjecting into the cosmic plan, embodied by women such as Yocheved, Miriam, Shifrah, and Puah.

“Like in the days of your departure from the land of Egypt, I will show you wonders.” “In the merit of the righteous women, we were redeemed from Mitzrayim, and in their merit, we will be redeemed in the future.” May we merit to witness those wonders soon, in our days.