
Marriage has the power to change everything, and in Nigeria fashion is no exception. One day, you're dressed in your favourite ripped jeans and a fitting blouse, and the next, someone says, "You look married." It's not just a statement; it's a judgement, a subtle nod to the silent expectations that people face once they cross the threshold into marriage. But what exactly does it mean to "look married"? Is there an underlying dress code associated with saying "I do," or are we all just dressing under the weight of societal expectations?
In Nigeria, where marriage is viewed as a rite of passage rather than a personal choice, fashion often serves as a silent messenger of that transition. There is a shift, sometimes purposeful, sometimes unintentional. Women who once wore body-hugging silhouettes, trendy cutouts, and playful hemlines now prefer structural dresses, monotone outfits, and, of course, the ever-present bubu. Men, on the other hand, are transitioning from wide-leg pants and sneakers to precisely tailored native dress, well-pressed shirts and the dependable leather loafers. It's an evolution that unfolds so smoothly that even people who are experiencing it don't often notice it.
But is this transition an indication of maturity, or is it merely a response to pressure? Because, let's be honest, many times the newlyweds are not making these adjustments out of personal preference; rather, the world around them insists that they do. A married lady is supposed to dress differently, to embrace "elegance" in a way that translates easily to "modesty." The aunties who used to compliment her fashion-forward selections now raise their heads at the sight of a sleeveless dress, murmuring something about 'dress like a wife'. Men, too, have their own set of expectations. A man who still dresses as he used to- “a boy”, according to society, after marriage risks being perceived as irresponsible, unserious, or even immature.
These unwritten standards are not just enforced by the older generation. Even among peers, the perception persists. A group of friends may playfully point out a newlywed, telling her she now dresses "like somebody's mother." A married man who still wears graphic tees may receive comments such as, "Bros, you never gree mature." The message is clear: marriage is not just a relationship; it is a transformation , and your clothes should reflect this.
This pressure isn't always external. Sometimes, the person changing their wardrobe does so because they have a strong opinion that marriage requires a certain level of propriety. A lady may swap her mini dresses for maxi gowns, not because she dislikes them, but because she believes they no longer suit her new role. A man may suddenly find himself drawn to traditional clothing, not because he has always liked it, but because he feels compelled to portray himself differently now that he is a husband. It's a cycle that repeats generation after generation, perpetuating the notion that certain styles belong to the unmarried, while others are designated for people who have taken vows.

Cultural and religious beliefs entrench these expectations. Many communities place a high value on how a married lady presents herself. Modesty reigns supreme, and anything considered as "youthful" or "rebellious" is gently, if not harshly, discouraged. A lady wearing a fitted dress after marriage might be met with whispers, about how she is still "dressing like a girl," while a man who maintains his playful, informal style may receive unwanted advise about "dressing like a family man."
But what happens when someone resists this shift? What if a married woman continues to embrace bold, edgy outfits? What if a married man refuses to trade his sneakers for formal shoes? The reactions vary. Some celebrate the defiance, seeing it as a refreshing departure from tired norms. Others, however, see it as an act of rebellion, a refusal to “grow up” in the way that society expects. The underlying assumption is that marriage should bring about visible change, and if fashion doesn’t reflect that change, something must be amiss.
This expectation is not unique to Nigeria, but it takes on a particular intensity in a society where marriage is often treated as the ultimate achievement. To look married is to signal stability, responsibility, and, in many cases, respectability. This is why women who dress in a way that goes against typical "wife" aesthetics may receive unsolicited advice. "You're someone's wife now" becomes a cautionary phrase, a reminder that marriage comes with an unspoken dress code.
But is this shift truly necessary? Does marriage really require a new wardrobe, or is this just another example of how society polices personal expression? It’s an interesting contradiction—on one hand, we celebrate love as something that should feel freeing and joyful. On the other hand, we impose restrictions on how people in love should present themselves. If someone felt confident in a certain style before marriage, why should that confidence suddenly be questioned afterward?

Some people defy these expectations, refusing to let their marital status determine their personal style. Fashion-forward Nigerian couples are proving that you don't have to "look married" to be married. Women are adopting contemporary trends without concern for how they will be seen, and men are maintaining their youthful aesthetics while still being seen as responsible husbands and fathers. It's a gradual but consistent trend that indicates a growing recognition that style is personal, not prescribed.
Nevertheless, the perception persists. If you go to any Nigerian event, you can probably "spot the married people" based on how they dress. It's a deeply embedded belief that is rarely challenged since it's been the norm for so long. But perhaps it's time to consider what marriage actually looks like. Is it the well-tailored kaftan, the flowing bubu, or the muted colours? Or is it simply two people continuing to express themselves in ways that make them feel most authentic?
For those who choose to embrace a more traditional “married” look, there’s nothing wrong with that. But for those who don’t, there shouldn’t be pressure to conform. The idea that marriage should change how someone dresses is based on an outdated belief that maturity must come with visual markers. But maturity isn’t in the length of a gown or the choice of footwear—it’s in how people carry themselves, in the values they uphold, in the way they treat their partners and the world around them.
So the next time someone says, “You look married,” it might be worth asking: what does that even mean? And more importantly, does it really matter?