I have a Patreon page where I post F2F caption stories. This latest one is quite detailed, and I think it's enjoyable even without images! If this sounds like something you'd like, you can find more on my Patreon page: https://www.patreon.com/join/5704356The Hijab diaries
Part I
Hanna was a beautiful Austrian girl living in a multicultural area
in Vienna. She was a student in medicine and, during the
summer break, took on a summer job as a Stairbuck barista to
pay the bills. Her family was an ancient one, respected and even
famous in her town in Styria, but not not too wealthy anymore,
and having moved from a small countryside town to the capital,
she was always shocked at the high living costs of Vienna.
Luckily, she had landed that summer job.
One day, she was heading there, minding her own business,
thinking about a tinder date she had scheduled for that
evening. She had already her makeup on and a pretty black
leather jacket on as she was planning to head there right after
her shift anded. At some point, she was stopped by a man at a
stand where Muslims encouraged local women to experience
wearing a hijab. She was kinda curious to try it on, just to see
how it felt and how she would look, but on the other side she
didn’t like it as she saw it as a symbol of oppression and
associated it to a negative meaning, being influenced by the
echoes of Islamophobia that pervaded her surroundings. The
man was really insisting and had a certain natural magnetism.
They discussed for a while, until Hanna eventually accepted. She
also realised that saying yes was probably the quickest way to
get back on her way to work instead of discussing. A couple of
girls took some hijabs and invited aside of the stand. “I hope
this won’t take long” - she told herself.
She was asked to take off her leather jacket and the
top under that, leaving her almost in underwear, and
then they began covering up her blonde hair and
styling the hijab. There was something mesmerising
in the Arab women’s gestures to style the headscarf
and their whispers in Arabic. Hanna listened to their
whispers, without understanding them.
The fabric was tightly wrapped around her head,
making her worry that it would mess up her hair.
“Fuck, not today! I want to look good for my date this
evening!” - she thought, but it was too late to back
off.
She put on her top again, but was told to keep the
leather jacket away, as it wouldn’t match the modest
oufit. She felt embarrassed and almost ashamed as
the Muslim women did the final touches for the Hijab
around her head and adjusted it, noticing the
disapproving looks she was getting from her fellow
countrymen. “God, I hope none of my friends see me
right now!” - she thought, ashamed.
“You’re all set up! Do you want to see yourself?”
“S… sure!” - Hanna replied, a bit skeptical.
Then she looked at herself in a mirror. Her heartbeat
accelerated. She looked so different! To a first
impression, she looked almost like any other Muslim
girl around, as her blonde hair had disappeared under
the headscarf and her facial features looked different
in a hijab. They asked her how she was feeling, and,
uncertain on what to say, she replied: “Hmm, I look
beautiful but… different!”. They took some pictures
and then told her that given how good she looked,
she could keep the hijab.
Not wanting to lose further time, as she was already
late for her shift, she thanked them and left, planning
to take the hijab off once turned around the corner.
However, it was tightly wrapped around her head, so
she struggled. She started to panic, but people were
starting to stare even more, as a woman taking off her
hijab was something unusual. She thought about
going back to the stand but decided to keep it on
until she reached the Starbuck. She counted down the
minutes as people stared her a lot on the subway and
on her way to the place. Once she got there, a
colleague of her, Yusuf, a Turkish guy, spotted her. She
felt a wave a embarrassment. Not him! She was
hoping to find any other colleague but him.
The irony of her situation. They had argued before about
politics and gender roles, now, donning a hijab, Hanna
stood enveloped in the very symbol they had spiritedly
discussed.
“Who would have said, Hanna! That is quite a change!”
Hanna replied in a mix of embarrassment and urgency “I can
explain - this is not… I’ve not become a Muslim!” - she said,
lowering her gaze, and explained her situation. “And I don’t
like it for the record, so I’m going to take it off immediately.
Enjoy this sight while it lasts!” - she added, with a smirk,
noticing the disappointment on his face. She left for the
changing room, where she tried taking the hijab off, first
gently, then frantically pulling it, to no avail, if not chocking
herself. With one last push, she mistakenly grabbed her
shirt, tearing it. “Fuck!” - she screamed. Yusuf knocked on
the door of the changing room. “Hanna, my shift is over, are
you ready?” “I… It’s not coming off. And now my clothes are
a disaster.” - she said, opening the door. “Oh, I see” - Yusuf
commented, with a smirk “Hmm… You could wait for Amina
to come over to help you after your shift is done” “In 6
hours?” - Hanna said, in tears. “I’m afraid so. You could
borrow her dress in the meanwhile”. With a defeated look,
Hanna nodded. She had a similar body type as Amina, and
the modest dress would go well with her hijab.
She adorned herself in Amina's attire, the silky fabric draping
her form in unfamiliar modesty. She put on the long, silky skirt
covering her legs to her ankles and the top part, with a really
high neckline, covering all of her skin, leaving only her face and
hands visible. Hanna took a quick look in the mirror. She felt like
she was wearing a costume. Too bad Carnival was over.
Blushing, she walked out of the changing room area and stood
behind the desk. Hanna didn’t like it but she couldn’t leave, or
she’d lose the job, and she really needed the money. She took a
deep breath and began her long day. Customers treated her
differently. Old men and women were quite judgmental at
seeing a beautiful Austrian girl with no hint of foreign accent
wearing such an outfit. A couple of Arab guys seriously asked
her if she was married. She blushed and nodded, to get out of
the sticky situation, even though she was implying she was
married to a Muslim man. What a shame, her, a pure-blooded
Austrian girl, marrying an Arab, Muslim man. What would her
family say? She felt as of a little electric shock went through her
body, her nipples hardening at the idea. Shit, what a messed-up
thought, she told herself, scrolling it off. Finally, Amina arrived.
“Wow, Hanna! You look beautiful” - she said with a giggle.
“Yusuf told me everything, let me have a look.” “It has been
surreal today” - Hanna commented “Honestly, I don’t know how
do you Muslim girls live with this!” “Oh, come on! It’s not so
bad!” - Amina replied.
After a careful inspection of the hijab, she sighed “Just what I
feared.” “Hmm?” - asked Hanna, panicking. “It’s an ancient knot
that I’m not familiar with, few women use it nowadays.” “Why
don’t we cut it away?” Hanna asked, her face beaming. “We
could, but” - Amina paused - “it’s so intertwined with your hair,
we would certainly cut most of your hair too if we did. Hanna
gulped. “Don’t worry, though. I know the girls at the stand, they
hang out at my mosque. In fact, if you hurry up you could catch
them before they leave!” “I… I can’t, I have a Tinder date soon”
Hanna replied, disheartened. Amina smiled “Well, if you don’t
want to show up at your date wearing a hijab, you’d better
reschedule. It’s going to be a different evening, I’m afraid.”
Hanna groaned. “By the way” - Amina continued, with a sweet
tone “I’m afraid I need my outfit for the shift. But worry not, I
took with me an abaya you could borrow.” Hanna meekly let
Amina disrobe her, apart from the hijab, and dress her in an
elegant black abaya, decorated with yellow and brown floral
motifs and complete with gloves. “I bought it in Saudi Arabia”
she explained, while styling an additional matching layer on top
of her hijab. “It’s perfect for a visit at the mosque!”
On the bus on her way to the mosque, she texted her date,
making up an excuse. It felt surreal to type a message on the
Tinder app while wearing black gloves matching her traditional
Muslim outfit.
Amina told her that the gloves were mandatory for a visit to
the mosque, and Hanna didn’t want to forget them on the
bus, or she might miss a chance to intercept the women at
the mosque. “Done” - she thought as she pressed ‘Send’.
She finally had a moment to reflect, after a day that felt
more like a movie than real life. She noticed that most men
and women were not sitting close to her, preferring to
stand instead. She groaned. She did this too, sometimes,
avoiding to sit close to an immigrant. Now she was basically
one of them. At the following stop, another Hijabi girl came
in and sat next to her, smiling at her. She lowered her
glance. She looked even more exotic wearing the elaborate
abaya her colleague gave her. She closed her eyes and
tried forgetting about the situation she was in, but even
then, the unfamiliar feeling of the headscarf reminded her
of the situation she was in. She could feel her hair itching
under it “I bet it’s getting all greasy under there! Shit, I
should probably book an appointment at the hairdresser
when this shit will be over”.
When she finally arrived at the mosque, she was impressed
by how large it was, with a garden and everything. “Fuck,
and they used taxpayers’ money for all of this!” After a
while, she found the women’s section and, for a stroke of
luck, she found the girls she had seen earlier.
They remind speechless after seeing the blonde Austrian
girl still wearing a hijab, now complete with an abaya, and
visiting a mosque. “Assalamu alaikkum” - they erupted
“Have you reverted to Islam?” “No, actually… I tried to take
the headscarf off but it got stuck. And this dress… I
borrowed from a friend because I ruined mine.” As she
spoke, she realised the story made very little sense. The
girls commented that God is the best planner and that she
should keep doors open.
Hanna nodded and listened to their advices for a while.
Then, she insisted, asking them to free her from the hijab,
as they were the only ones able to help her. They agreed, a
bit disappointed that they had failed in their mission, and
told her to follow them to a private area where women
could undress. She couldn’t take her hijab off in a public
area in a Mosque, after all.
Before removing it, though, the girls tried on a few other
outfits on Hanna, who was too tired to fight back. She tried
on a beautiful North African outfit borrowed it from one of
the girl’s friends and had to admit she didn’t look half bad.
She was getting a peculiar taste in terms of modest
clothing after a while.
Finally, the girls begged her to try on one last dress, an outfit one
the girls had brought from home for a special occasion. It took a
while to disrobe her - keeping on the infamous hijab, of course,
and dress her up again, but when they were done and Hanna
could finally open her eyes, she immediately noticed this was
different. It was a white outfit, with lots of lace and pearls. They
had even given her elaborate earrings. Hanna gulped “Is it… a
bridal dress?” “Yes” - the Muslim girls said, with a giggle. “You
look so beautiful!” “You would make your husband a very happy
man!” - they commented. “Great, the first time ever I see myself in
a bridal dress, and it’s a Muslim one! I’ll never be able to erase this
image from my memory now!” - she thought, speechless. As they
meandered through an open courtyard within the mosque's
expansive grounds, their presence caught the attention of the
Imam himself. Hanna's heart raced as she instinctively lowered her
gaze, trying to disappear into the folds of the exquisite dress. One
of the girls apologised “Dear Imam, we got distracted and didn’t
notice this was a common space. We beg for your pardon.” “I see
we have a newcomer” - the Imam noted, his displeasure evident
at the breach of decorum - “Yes, she’s interested in Islam, and she
wanted to try on a bridal dress because she is dreaming of finding
a Muslim husband.” “Is that so?” Caught off guard, Hanna
scrambled for words, "I am curious, yes, but my knowledge is still
quite limited, dear Imam," - Hanna replied, hating the girls for
coming up with such a lie.
The girls, invigorated by Hanna’s half admission, told the Imam
about how she had tried on a hijab earlier that day and how
her life had changed since, which wasn’t even a lie.
The spiritual guide offered a warm smile and commented that
indeed, God is the best planner. Then stared at Hanna and
told her “I know you still have a lot to learn, but you can make
your profession of faith already now. His ifinite knowledge
will guide you through your journey. Repeat after me: La ilaha
illa Allah, Muhammadur rasoolu Allah”. Caught in the moment
and and not wanting to engage in a difficult conversation, she
hesitantly echoed the declaration, her heart beating like crazy:
“La ilaha illa Allah, Muhammadur rasoolu Allah”.
It hit her that from that moment on, she was officially a Muslim
woman. “I am literally a Muslim now, everything's gonna
change for me, what am I doing?” - she thought. Her, Hanna,
an Austrian Christian woman, was now a Muslim? She thought
aboutfithe stories she had heard aboutfithe way those who
rejected their Muslim faith were persecuted and nearly
fainted, feeling trapped. She nearly lost her balance, a
reaction that seemed to validate the spiritual leader's genuine
optimism for her. “Let her rest” - he told the girls “She just had
the biggest day of her live so far.” He added, and left, leaving
Hanna with the girls.
Overwhelmed themselves and unable to articulate their
feelings, the girls assisted Hanna in changing out of the
bridal gown and into the black abaya, recognizing that
there was no longer any justification for her to dress
otherwise, when Hanna started crying.
“Why did you let this happen to me? I’m so fucked! I can't
possibly tell my family about converting and I can't keep
pretending everything is normal, while dressing like this?
What will everyone think? People will recognise me! I'm
sorry, but I have to take back my words. I cannot commit to
Islam."
In response, her friends began softly reciting a prayer.
Hanna felt mesmerised again by their words. “Could there
be some truth to their beliefs?” - she thought, before
quickly dismissing the thought. After a few seconds, the
girls stopped and began staring at her in awe. “What’s
happening?” - Hanna asked, confused. "Your eyes," one
friend whispered in disbelief, "they've changed to brown."
Hanna felt a wave of dread. The emotions of that day
made her mind shake. “That’s not possible” - she said,
reaching for her phone.
Activating the camera, she was confronted with the
reflection of her eyes, now a deep shade of brown, a
stark contrast to their usual green. "It's just the
lighting," she attempted to reassure herself, though
her conviction wavered. The girls dragged her to a
changing room in the women area.
The light was stronger, but her eyes were still brown.
One of the girl finally began taking off her hijab, to
allow her to see herself better. As her hair became
loose, the girls erupted in a spontaneous scream,
followed by more rounds of prayers. Instead of the
blonde waves she had just a few hours before,
luscious dark brown curls cascaded on her shoulders.
“No! No! This can’t be!” - murmured Hanna in a mix
of shock and contemplation.
“This can't be happening… I’m becoming one of
you!” - Hanna added. She frantically tugged at her
newly darkened locks, but they were undeniably her
own. Her hair was dark brown up to its roots. Even
her skin tone had darkened by a couple of shades,
she noticed, matching with her darkened
complexion.
It took her a few minutes to process what had
happened to her. She had the warm complexion of
Middle Eastern women, even though her facial
structure remained the same. She was an arabised
version of herself. People would barely recognise her
now, no matter what she would wear. Her student ID
looked nothing like her, as her driver’s license did. Her
life was drastically changed. “So, this is real? God
wants me to embrace Islam?” - Hanna asked herself.
For the time being her first problem was going home.
The thought of returning to her shared apartment in
such a drastically changed form was overwhelming. In
a mix of fear and urgency, she hastily draped a loose
veil over her hair, not wanting to get stuck in it again
but feeling a strange urge to cover her hair, and left
the mosque in a hurry, eager to leave that place that
seemed cursed for her.
Lost in her thoughts and physically drained, Hanna
roamed without direction until the reality of her fatigue
set in, steering her towards home despite her
apprehension. The thought of her flatmate's reaction
to her new appearance caused her heart to race with
nervous anticipation, yet she recognized there was
nowhere else to go.
Hanna stepped softly into the apartment she shared with
Emma, another girl from Austria. She had hoped to slip into
her room unnoticed, but Emma was in the kitchen. Her gaze
fixed on the unfamiliar brunette in a black abaya, and asked
her “Who are you? And how did you get into our
apartment?”
Feeling a knot in her stomach, Hanna improvised, "I'm Yara,
a distant cousin of Hanna's. She said she'd be out of town
for a bit and that I could use her room while she's gone."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "That's strange. Hanna didn't
mention that. A cousin, huh? I can see the resemblance. She
never mentioned having Muslim family members, though."
Blushing, Hanna replied “She’ll send you a message. Yeah,
my mother is Hanna’s aunt. She converted to Islam when
she married, and since then, there's been a bit of distance
between her and the rest of the family," she explained,
hoping Emma would buy into her lie.
Emma nodded, understandingly, but then warned, "Just
watch out for the landlady. She's not the most progressive
person and might not be too happy about having a Muslim
tenant.” Hanna gulped. She was a second-class citizen now.
Hanna finally made it to her bedroom, where she finally
disrobed from the traditional Muslim outfit she had been
wearing all day long. With a sense of trepidation, she
examined the transformation her body had undergone. A
natural olive skin tone, different from a simple tan, had
spread through her body, a stark contrast to its previous
paleness. The changes didn't stop there; to match with her
darker complexion, her pink nipples had darkened to brown
and her previously blonde pubic hair had become black
and curled. Apart from her face shape, she looked like a
completely different person, and was hardly recognisable as
her former self. How could she explain all of these changes.
Overwhelmed, she sat on her bed, tears streaming down
her face.
Her gaze drifted to the abaya draped over a chair, a stark
reminder of her current situation. Was this attire her
inevitable future? Did she belong in Muslim modest clothes
from now on? She murmured her first prayer to Allah,
begging for guidance and then, too tired to keep on
thinking, she finally fell asleep.
When she woke up, the unfamiliar feeling of her long wavy
black hair surrounding her face, she realised it had not just
been a nightmare.
Feeling isolated and in need of support, but too embarrassed to
reach outfito her old friends, Hanna called her colleague Amina
for help and guidance. “How did it go? Did they manage to
untangle the hijab?” “Er, yes, but… It’s a long story. Could you
come here? Don’t freak out when you see me, I have… changed.”
When Amina arrived at the address, Hanna opened her the door.
The long, wavy dark hair, the brown eyes and olive skin looked
nothing like her friend. "Hanna?" Amina gasped, her eyes
widening at the sight before her. “Yes, it’s me. I looked like this
when I took off the Hijab! I don’t really know what to do!” Hanna
confessed, her story spilling forth in a torrent of emotions.
Amina, though initially shocked, stepped into her role with grace.
“Oh dear sister, what happened to you is a proof of the power of
the almighty! This is the push you needed. After your conversion,
you were afraid of people’s judgment, now you won’t bother
anymore because your own family would struggle to recognise
you.” “But…” - Hanna, clinging to a sliver of hope, tried to ask her
if there was a way to take back her word. Amina, however,
remained firm.“The path you've found yourself on... it's
irreversible. You've given your commitment. You are now a
Muslim, and this is not something you should take lightly, you
don’t want to disappoint the Almighty.” Hanna nodded, tears
owing down her cheeks. “Aww, sweetie, I know it’s a lot to take,
but I can help you to adjust to all of this.” - Amina added, with a
reassuring smile.
With Amina's deep understanding of the new world Hanna was
navigating, she became an indispensable mentor to her. Hanna
found herself naturally following her advice, soothed by Amina’s
comforting yet firm tone, and slowly realising she didn’t have a
choice anymore.
After having reluctantly sold all of her outfits for a modest sum,
Hanna followed Amina to a to a shop specialised in Muslim attire
located on the outskirts of Vienna. Hanna’s brown eyes went wide
just by looking at the covering outfits. “I thought you meant just
outfits showing less skin, do I really need to wear the headscarf
and everything?” the perspective of having to cover her hair in
front of strangers for the rest of her life was daunting. And what
about all the prejudices against Muslims? Would she have to face
that now? “Yes, it’s mandatory for Muslim women, but don’t worry,
you’ll love it, my dear!” - Amina answered with a smile.
“Let’s start sorting out your wardrobe” - Amina said, delving into
Hanna's extensive collection of fashion-forward attire, which
included dresses, crop tops, miniskirts, and fishnet stockings.
Hanna had an attractive, lithe body and had never been afraid of
showcasing it. “Hmm, you’ve got so many revealing outfits here,
that has to change. You’ll dress modestly from now on! We should
sell them and use the proceeds to purchase more modest outfits!”
“Everything? But... But..." Hanna faltered. “Yes, everything. It's for
the best. You'll see, avoiding temptation will be simpler this way.”
Amina helped Hanna put on a silky blue abaya dress with hijab,
simple, yet elegant. The Austrian girl was really struggling to put
it on, making it obvious that she was new to Hijab. That attracted
some empathy from other hijabs girls who encouraged her by
telling her she looked beautiful, or simply smiling at her.
The first time she’d seen herself wearing a hijab shocked her,
but it was a temporary experiment. Now, she was committing to
this lifestyle permanently. She felt a pang of regret for having
gotten rid of all of her Western clothes to fully embrace modest
clothing. She missed the way a tight cocktail dress and
stockings highlighted her figure. “No no, this can’t be my life
now” - she thought - “I can’t belong in headscarfs and covering
dresses from now on!”
“I don’t know, I understand that modesty is important, but I
kinda liked the way I looked in a crop top or a dress… I feel so
ugly now.” - she commented, while examining her mirror image,
the contours of her figure obscured by the flowing abaya.
“Remember, you're bound to look less attractive in hijab... that's
kind of the point. Do you really need strangers to know how
pretty you are? If you think about it, wearing a hijab is the most
empowering thing you can do as a woman; robbing men of
their ability to judge you for your looks and force them to see
you as a person!”
“I guess you have a point, I never saw it that way” - Hanna
replied, in a humble tone.
“Anyway, there are many different kinds of modest clothing. You
can still develop your own style. You're already familiar with the
Hijab and the Abaya" Amina said, picking a covering black outfit
“but the world of modest fashion is vast. If you're leaning
towards a more conservative style, wishing to keep your mouth
and nose hidden from the public eye, then a Niqab might suit
you.”
Hanna hesitated “I… I’m not sure I'm ready to embrace that path
just yet.”, but Amina encouraged her, “Think about it, nobody
would ever recognise you, you’d feel protected… and it might
be more comfortable than you think!” - she said, handing her
the black outfit with an encouraging smile.
Still skeptical, Hanna slipped into the black dress with Amina's
guidance, its fabric cascading to the floor, and paired with silky
gloves that concealed her delicate hands. It felt odd. Gazing at
her reflection, Hanna felt a mix of emotions. She couldn’t deny
she had a certain grace and elegance, yet she was starting to
resemble a young woman from Iran or Afghanistan, so different
from her old self. "Ready for the finishing touch?" Amina
prompted, encouraging her friend's transformation.
Amina added a matching black veil that covered half of Hanna's
face, introducing her to the unfamiliar feeling of a niqab
graciously covering her mouth and nose. Now her identity was
completely gone, and she looked just like any ultra conservative
Muslim woman. Hanna felt a sudden excitement she could
hardly explain. Her nipples grew hard and, even through the
covering dress, Amina could notice the excitement. “Am I into
this now? Being a submissive Muslim woman?”. “It feels special, I
know! Who would have said someone like you would have liked
it, though!” - Amina said, with a laugh. “Ehm, I feel really
confined, but also protected and safe” - Hanna replied,
embarrassed, her voice muffled by the veil. “But I could never
nd a job, dressed like this! Even wearing hijabs leads to
discrimination!” “My dear, I don’t know how to phrase this but…
there are more important things than a career for a good
Muslim woman.” “Like what?” “Embracing the role of a good
wife and mother, one day. Besides, your student ID doesn't
even resemble you anymore, so it might be time to reconsider
your plans," Amina gently suggested. The thought of
abandoning her dream of becoming a doctor brought tears to
Hanna's eyes. “But I’ve always wanted to become a doctor
and…” “Shh” - "Shh," Amina soothed, "Everything will work out.
You have your coffee shop job. I'll speak to our manager about
your...change; it should all be okay.”
The prospect of turning a summer job into her sole income
and career path was demeaning, but she had to admit Amina
was right. Her best chance now was to secure a full-time
position as a barista at Starbucks, a considerable descent for
someone who once aspired to a career in medicine. “Yes,
please talk to him! I can’t really lose that job right now!” “See
how your priorities are already changing?” - Amina replied
with a laughter.
Amina took pleasure in the reversal of their roles. Hanna, who
once held a sense of superiority due to her prestigious field of
study and viewed Amina as an ignorant underachiever, she
was now dependent on Amina’s guidance to navigate the
complex situation she was in. On top of that, having Amina
worked at the coffee shop for way longer, she was poised to
become Hanna’s natural supervisor for the foreseeable future.
“Anyway, you’re right, you can’t wear a niqab at work, that
would be too much. We need to find you some less
conservative outfits! You should definitely buy the niqab,
though! You could wear it for special occasions!”
They tried on several outfits, more and less conservative, and
Hanna's appreciation for Muslim fashion deepened.
“Hmm, you know what? Let’s try on something more
colourful, this is the kind of outfit you could wear on
special occasions, like Eid Mubarak!”
The outfit was completely different, elegant and
sophisticated. The ensemble featured a dress with a
high neckline, adorned with intricate lace detailing,
contrasting beautifully with the solid color of the
dress. The sleeves of the dress were made from a
sheer fabric with the same lace detailing, billowing
out before gathering at the wrists, creating a very
feminine silhouette.
Complementing the dress were elegant black
gloves, also embellished with lace, to add a touch
of grace but also adhere to the modesty aspect of
the attire.
Hanna was speechless. She felt like some sort of
Muslim princess in it! Never had she imagined that
a modest, full-length dress could serve as festive
wear, yet the reflection staring back at her was
undeniably striking. She oozed an elegance, a
sense of tradition and modesty that she never did
before. “This is so… not like me at all, yet I kinda like
this, after all” - she thought.
“Mesmerising, huh?”
“I have no words, it’s actually beautiful! I never
thought I would learn to enjoy hijab fashion!”
“Let's explore more Eid attire!” - Amina
suggested eagerly.
Next, Hanna tried on a long-sleeved blush
pink hijab dress with intricate lace detailing.
Over the dress, there was a wide satin belt in a
shade of muted rose, accentuating her thin
waist. The skirt part of the dress was pleated,
giving it a full and flowing look. The outfit was
completed by a matching hijab in a similar
blush pink color, styled neatly around the head
and neck. Completing the ensemble were
simple black gloves, contrasting with the light
colors of the dress and hijab.
Every outfit Hanna tried on, was a further blow
to her identity, reshaping her fashion sense.
Why would she miss her skin-revealing outfits,
when she could look so elegant wearing an
elaborate Eid outfit?
After some more outfits, Hanna was definitely hooked.
One of her main concerns about her new lifestyle was
the limited outfit options and the feeling of looking
unattractive. However, seeing herself now, she was
surprised and even scared by how much she relished
her new look.
“This is so unlike me” - Hanna thought, contemplating
her altered appearance. “How can I like this so much?”
“Can I try another niqab on before we leave? Maybe
something more elaborate?” Amina produced an
embroiled black niqab with a wide smile. The feeling
of the niqab covering half her face spread a new
warmth in her body once more. “I feel so safe like this,
my face is unrecognisable, my voice is muffled.
Nobody could ever suspect I’m anything else than an
Arab Muslim woman and that’s scary and reassuring at
the same time” - she explained.
Ultimately, Hanna decided to purchase several outfits,
including a black niqab, along with several other
pieces, including an elegant, silky beige hijab, that
enhanced her silhouette and made her feel like a
princess.
“See, you can still feel pretty in modest clothing” “It’s so true,
Amina! I … I think I could live with this!” - Hanna said, parading
in the streets of Vienna in one of the satin hijab dresses she
had just bought, enjoying her looks..
During that afternoon, she spent all the money she had
received for the clothes she had sold, plus some, Amina
insisted on selecting only the nest silk garments for her. At
the end, Hanna was nearly broke, which given her reduced
career perspectives, was distressing.
Amina comforted her again “It’s an investment, don’t worry!
You’ll marry rich by looking like a princess!” “Oh please!”
Hanna scoffed at the notion. The idea of marriage seemed a
distant thought to her young mind. However, the western idea
of dating was not really accepted in Muslim society, so
marriage was the natural next step for a pretty young woman
like her. Hanna hadn’t thought much aboutfithat, and she
certainly didn’t want to argue with Amina, so she simply
replied “Maybe!”
“No, I’m really serious, we need to find you a nice man soon!
I’ve just got the feeling that you might really make a great
traditional Muslim wife!” - replied Amina, with a honest and
friendly smile.
“Well, I don’t know… I’m taking baby steps by now. I’m
still so new to this culture.” - Hanna said, blushing. Yet
she had to admit to herself she was intrigued.
“It’s very important that you remember that you are only
allowed to marry Muslim men now. It’s one of the pillars
if Islam.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that!” - she replied, taken aback by
the sudden narrowing of her social and romantic
options. After a moment of reflection, she added: ”
Hmm, by the way, are we… Muslim women, really
expected to be subordinate to men?”
“Women have a very important role in the Muslim
world. But well, men are in charge of us - they are our
protectors and maintainers. So yes, we should be
obedient to men who are striving to protect us as they
have our best interests in mind.”
Hanna mulled over this information, finding it
challenging to reconcile with the stringent gender
norms presented. "I understand..." she said, her voice
tinged with hesitation as she grappled with these new
concepts and their implications on her personal
freedom and autonomy.
“Picture this: a man who not only cherishes you but also
ensures your every need is met, spoiling you with the nest
outfits. Imagine not having to work long shifts at the Starbucks.
How does that sound?”
“Pretty great actually!” - Hanna confessed, caught off guard by
her own attraction to such a conventional marital concept.
“That would be quite a change.” Hanna's heart was beating
fast. Why did she like this idea so much? She had always been
a feminist and...
“And you would only take the hijab off in his presence.” Amina continued
“Oh wow… I kinda like hijabs now though… I could get used
to this” - she admitted with a smile. The feeling of femininity
and safeness a modest outfit gave her was something she
would never have expected.
“To show him your beautiful black curls…” - Amina continued.
“Haha stop! Besides, I’m still not used being a brunette!”
They kept talking about Hanna’s future perspectives as a
Muslim woman, further intriguing the former blonde.
