Modesty?

I've never really been a modest person.  Growing up, I wore whatever appealed to me.  I'd show up for school in a wedding dress and fairy wings, carrying a paint can.  I once showed up in a red slip covered in Christmas tree garland.  I didn't care at all.  The school secretary had my mother's work number memorized because she called about my dress code infractions so often.  I modeled for a while after graduation, and while I never really got used to wearing heels and short skirts, I could do it and look kind of comfortable.

Since then, I've changed.  I rarely wear shorts.  All of my shirts cover my middle.  I still don't care, but I'd rather not flaunt my post-partum belly and my thighs have expanded so much that I'd rather not be reminded of the vast expanse of jiggly whiteness every time I look down.  Also, I carry a lot of stuff.  You can't fit anything into the pockets on a pair of Daisy Dukes.  I also have three children whom I love dearly and am trying to set a half decent example.  I've set a few rules for my oldest two now that they are dressing themselves.

• Leggings are not pants.  They will never be pants.  If you are wearing leggings, appropriate booty cover will be used. 
• Shirts are made to cover your nipples.  If you're wearing a shirt and I can see nipples, you'd better be pretending to breastfeed or on your way to change into something that covers your nipples. 
• High heels will not be worn until you're done growing and can walk through the house without tripping over the air. 
• Your shirts will not flop carelessly off of your shoulders.  It makes you look like you're not intelligent enough to keep your clothes from falling off your body.
• Skirts are okay, but until you're no longer sitting crisscross applesauce, you're going to wear something under them.  No one wants to see your underwear, unless they're some sort of pervert.  This is where the leggings are a great thing.
• I'm raising a gaggle of gingers. Bathing suits will consist of a short sleeve rash guard top. Nearly every adult in the family has had or will have some form of skin cancer, and I'm a hundred percent certain you guys have inherited this gene. I don't care who is wearing a string bikini. You're my children and it's my job to protect you. Does anyone know how difficult it is to get sunscreen EVERYWHERE on three squirmy and impatient children? It's much easier to throw on a rash guard and do arms, legs, face.  

I'm not a prude and I'm not doing this as a religious thing to avoid "stumbling blocks" or any other bullish excuse.  I'm doing this because I'm trying to raise decent human beings who value themselves for what's inside, not for how many catcalls they get per day.

I pity the fool who thinks leggings are pants.