Narrative Essay Sample about Sabbath

The Sabbath. A day reserved for worship. Growing up in a religious African and Catholic family, every Sunday meant being woken up way too early in the morning and going to church. I remember the sun blinding me through my window as I tried to adjust my heavy eyes to the bright daylight, and being scolded “lève-toi, lève-toi! Get up!” by my mother as I hid under the bedsheets trying to get just a few more moments of rest.

Even on the holy day,  instead of love and laughter, they were mostly filled with frustration. Almost every Sunday morning there was tension in the air. What I wanted to wear to church never aligned with my mom’s vision of what I should wear. Looking back at it, my mom was just looking out for me, because the things I almost walked out wearing--yikes. Instances like Sunday mornings are what created a disconnect between clothing and my identity. Even with a full closet, I still “never had anything to wear.” I never felt comfortable in any of it.

All the blame can’t be put on Sunday mornings, the disconnect of clothing and myself was of my own creation. I put so many limits on myself in fear of feeling out of place. Despite black skinny jeans and a hoodie being my everyday uniform, unintentionally I expressed myself. I told the narrative of a locked character, an empty canvas waiting for a paint stroke. 

Bottoms. From jeans, oversized dress pants, and skirts, bottoms are the foundation of my outfit. Coming from a West African background, attire is an integral part of who we are. It tells our story. Where we come from, our status, and who we wish to become. Clothes are tailored to each individual, each stitch sewn with the wearer in mind. Made specifically for them. The first time I found a piece that was “made for me”, I almost didn’t get them. Low waisted, two-toned denim, contrast stitching, flared. They were everything I wasn’t at the time--experimental--and the first brushstroke on my canvas. I bought them secondhand, the first of many. They had a torn belt on the right side, but despite the imperfections that often come with vintage clothing, I saw the potential in them. These jeans taught me a valuable lesson. Sometimes you have to let go and see the possibilities of testing the waters, even if it makes you uncomfortable.

Tops. Arguably the most obvious part of an outfit. Some might take this chance to really show out. I use tops to express the forefront features that make me who I am. The foundation--bottoms, dictate the highlights--tops. Things I’m interested in and influences all make their way to be the most noticeable in myself, and connectedly in my wardrobe.

Accessories. My favorite part of building an outfit. They’re your chance to take an otherwise basic outfit, and make it pop.  My favorite necklace is homemade and made out of 4 vintage watches. Each with its own unique qualities. Once in a while, someone will notice.

“Are those clocks? That’s so cool!”

The aspects of each of us that accent our personalities can make an appearance. Those minute yet important parts of yourself deserve their time to shine. Hidden parts of myself slowly started to make their way to the surface, because I felt comfortable embracing each little quirk more and more each day. 

I’ve grown a lot from that little girl at 9 in the morning on Sundays, but I’m still on this journey, it’ll never truly be over. Each day a new outfit will be worn, and a new story told. My style will evolve as I do. As I’m building my wardrobe, simultaneously, I’m building myself, slowly turning that previously blank canvas into a masterpiece that dares say “yes-yes” to all the  “no-no’s” of the world, or of their former self.