Femininity is not just lipstick, stylish hairdos, and trendy

"Femininity is not just lipstick, stylish hairdos, and trendy clothes. It is the divine adornment of humanity. It finds expression in your qualities of your capacity to love, your spirituality, delicacy, radiance, sensitivity, creativity, charm, graciousness, gentleness, dignity, and quiet strength." Thus spoke James E. Faust, a servant of faith and wisdom, whose words shine like a jewel polished by reverence and truth. In this teaching, he reminds all generations that femininity is not a mere surface—an ornament of fashion or appearance—but a sacred flame within the soul, a reflection of the divine nature that breathes tenderness into the heart of the world. He speaks of woman not as the decoration of creation, but as one of its greatest sanctities—the spiritual balance to man’s strength, the melody that softens the rhythm of life.

The origin of these words comes from a time when the world, dazzled by the glitter of modern progress, began to confuse beauty with glamour and worth with display. Elder Faust, a leader of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, looked upon a society that often reduced womanhood to appearance—judged by style, measured by attention—and he sought to call it back to its eternal roots. He knew that true femininity is not found in adornment, but in essence; not in what the world sees, but in what heaven recognizes. He declared that woman’s truest adornment is not gold upon her neck, but grace upon her spirit.

When he says, “Femininity is the divine adornment of humanity,” Faust reveals that womanhood is not a social construct, but a divine expression. It is the spirit of nurturing, the capacity to heal with love, to comfort without words, to illuminate darkness with compassion. This divine adornment does not belong to gender alone—it is a force that lives within all who open themselves to tenderness and empathy. But in women especially, it has been entrusted as a gift and guardianship, shaping families, societies, and civilizations. The capacity to love, as Faust names it, is the crown of this divine design—the wellspring from which all her other virtues flow: graciousness, gentleness, and quiet strength.

Think of Florence Nightingale, who, in the blood and filth of war, became an angel to the wounded. She wore no crown, no jewels, no silks—yet her compassion lit the halls of sickness like a sacred lamp. Or Mother Teresa, whose wrinkled hands held dying strangers as if they were kings. These women embodied what Faust described: radiance that needs no adornment, dignity that no fashion could buy, gentleness that held the weight of the world. Their power was not loud, but profound; not commanding, but transforming. Such is the quiet majesty of true femininity—unseen by the vain, but felt deeply by the broken.

The delicacy Faust spoke of is not frailty, but refinement of spirit—the ability to perceive pain in others and to soothe it with compassion. Sensitivity and creativity are her instruments, shaping art, family, and faith into expressions of the divine. Charm and graciousness are not tools of manipulation, but gifts of warmth, inviting peace where conflict dwells. Quiet strength—ah, that is her cornerstone: the resilience to endure hardship without bitterness, to stand firm in gentleness, to rise after sorrow and still bring light. This strength is not forged in pride, but born from faith, humility, and the sacred endurance that only love can sustain.

Faust’s words remind us that the beauty of a woman is not measured by the turning of heads, but by the turning of hearts. The world may praise the fleeting—the cosmetics, the fashions, the applause—but heaven measures the spiritual radiance that never fades. In every age, the balance of the world depends on those who embody love, patience, and kindness. When femininity is honored as divine, society is healed; when it is debased to vanity, the soul of the world grows cold.

So, my listener, honor the divine within you—whether you are woman or man, for these virtues belong to all who walk in light. Seek to live with grace, compassion, and quiet strength. Let your words heal rather than wound, your presence comfort rather than compete. Be radiant not because you are seen, but because you bring light. Let your femininity—or your reverence for it—be a blessing to those around you, a reminder that the gentlest hands often shape the strongest destinies.

And thus, the wisdom of James E. Faust endures across the generations: true femininity is not a mask, but a mirror of the divine. It does not glitter—it glows. It does not conquer—it comforts. It does not demand—it gives. And in its giving, the world itself is renewed, for through the quiet power of goodness, humanity rediscovers its own soul.