Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I am like, 'This is a

Nicki Minaj, voice of bold self-expression and queen of reinvention, once declared: “Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I am like, ‘This is a high-top day’ or ‘This is a bob day,’ but when I get my clothes on that’s when I see.” On its surface, this may seem like nothing more than playful musings on hair and fashion. But within it lies a profound meditation on identity, choice, and the evolving self. For what she reveals is not vanity, but the truth that the self is not static; it is born anew each day, shaped by mood, by vision, and by the garments with which we clothe our souls.

The ancients knew this power well. The Greeks donned their robes not merely for warmth, but as symbols of philosophy, trade, or citizenship. The Romans clothed themselves in togas that announced their rank and role. In every civilization, attire was more than fabric; it was the outer sign of the inner state. When Minaj speaks of a high-top or a bob, she speaks of this same eternal truth: that appearance is not trivial, but a reflection of spirit. And yet, as she notes, it is only when the clothes are chosen, when the ritual of preparation is complete, that the day’s self is truly revealed.

History gives us striking examples of this. Think of Queen Elizabeth I, who transformed herself daily through her gowns and jewels. Each outfit was not only adornment but declaration: of power, of defiance, of sovereignty. Beneath her garments, she was a woman bearing the weight of rule, but by the time she stepped before her court, her clothes had become her armor. So too does Minaj remind us that the act of dressing is not trivial but sacred — a preparation for the battle of the day.

There is also a deeper psychological wisdom here. Minaj confesses that she does not always know who she will be upon waking; she discovers it in the act of dressing. This is no weakness but a revelation: that identity is fluid, and often revealed through ritual action rather than mere thought. Just as monks rise to prayer and warriors to training, so too does the artist rise to costume and adornment. In these acts, the self is clarified, and the day’s character unveiled.

Her words echo the universal human experience of transformation. Soldiers do not feel their strength until they put on their uniforms. Performers do not feel their roles until they wear the costume. Even the humble worker, slipping into a suit or an apron, feels themselves becoming the part the day requires. In this way, Nicki Minaj’s statement is a mirror of all humanity: that we “see” ourselves only once we are clothed for the role of the day.

What, then, is the lesson for us? It is this: embrace the power of ritual preparation. Do not despise the moments of choosing your dress, your hair, your manner. For these are not trivialities, but the outer shaping of the inner spirit. When you awake uncertain, let the act of preparation reveal to you who you are that day. And know that you may be different tomorrow — this is not inconsistency, but the beautiful fluidity of the self.

So remember, O seekers of wisdom, Nicki Minaj’s playful yet profound words: “Sometimes I wake up in the morning… but when I get my clothes on that’s when I see.” The morning is a question; the clothes are the answer. Honor the ritual of becoming. Let each day’s attire, hair, or gesture be not shallow vanity, but the sacred armor of the self. For life is a stage, and every morning you are given the chance to choose your role — not once and for all, but anew, every dawn.