The Blog of ayomike

LOH week 248

What is the most dominant color in your wardrobe/closet? Was it a conscious choice, or did it just turn out that way over time?"

If you were to open my wardrobe right now, you’d be greeted by a sea of black. Black dresses, black shirts, black trousers, black scarves. It’s not just a color,it’s a presence. And no, I didn’t wake up one morning and decide, “I want to wear only black from now on.” It didn’t start with intention. It simply happened. Slowly, silently, like a habit you didn’t know you were forming until it became second nature.

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At first, black was just convenient. It didn’t stain easily. It matched with anything. It didn’t call for attention. I could wear the same outfit twice in a week, and no one would notice. But over time, black became more than a practical choice,it became a form of expression.

Black is quiet, but it speaks loudly. It doesn’t shout, but it carries depth. When I wear black, I don’t feel invisible,I feel composed. It allows me to disappear when I want to, and stand firm when I need to. It’s not that I’m trying to hide, but more that I’ve never felt the need to scream to be seen. Black lets me own my space without begging for it.

I think, subconsciously, black reflects parts of me that words can’t always explain. I’m not always loud in the room, but my presence is there. I’m observant. Intentional. I value peace, clarity, and a bit of mystery. I can be expressive, yes, but I choose when and how. Wearing black became a quiet mirror for those inner layers.

People often assume that wearing black means sadness or pain. For me, it’s not that simple. It represents strength. A grounded confidence. A calm sense of power that doesn’t need embellishment. When the world around me feels loud or chaotic, black grounds me. It simplifies things. It brings order and peace.

And maybe that’s part of why I kept choosing it, even without knowing. In seasons of life where I felt uncertain or overwhelmed, black made things easier. It became a comfort,something that didn’t demand too much thought. Just slip it on and go. It gave me room to focus on what mattered, rather than fuss over color combinations or trends.

Still, people don’t always notice. They might see the black outfits, but they don’t always ask why. And I like that. Because in some way, my wardrobe tells a story that only I understand fully. It’s my quiet form of art, expression, and even protection.

So no, it wasn’t really a plan. But now, looking back, it feels like my closet knew me before I fully knew myself.

And that’s the thing about black,it might look simple, but it holds more than meets the eye.

Thank you all