I am not a “Sade Girl,” I am just a woman who loves Sade
Reflections on loving myself through loving Sade.
The Nigerian-born British singer-songwriter Sade, short for Helene Folasade Adu, is much more than a musical and fashion icon. With her greatest hits spanning the ’80s, ’90s, and early ’00s, Sade, from her sensual hips on stage to her rustic, guttural, yet feminine and powerful voice, has for me—to the dismay of my mother—defined what it means to be a woman.
The recognizable blend of jazzy R&B and earthy pop, paired with her luscious voice, haunts you, inspires you, and creates you. For me, it became more than just a musical obsession. If you listen to the few interviews Sade has given over her decades-long career, or even observe her stage presence, you’ll notice that her life as a female artist is different from the cookie-cutter-average-3-month-long-trend-inspiring “artists” that pop up here and there.
Sade is different. Not just in her music, but in how she carries her womanhood and embraces her femininity in an industry steeped in exploitative tactics and unimaginable creative pressures. Sade refrains from discussing her personal life and instead explores her deepest emotions through her music, retaining an elusive and mysterious public persona even while leading an undeniably public professional life. Everything from her gestures to her pauses before answering questions to the sometimes 6-year-long hiatus she takes from the music industry is fascinating because it signals a raw type of maturity and elegance that isn’t easy to name or forget.
Sade captivates me through her intelligent shyness, and I devour her silence every time.
When I first started listening to Sade, at the insecure old age of 16, I was a messy teen trying to live that American-style young-teen rebellion; hanging out with friends my Mum didn’t like, being nonchalant about the casual 60s I’d get on tests, and wearing baggy clothes to hide my all too small and underwhelming figure. As a young’un, I was hyper-aware of my femininity and, perhaps, lack thereof. I got my gender propaganda from stalking the popular girls at my middle school, with their drugstore lip glosses and push-up bras, or from melodramatic and stingy Bollywood actresses.
Yet, as I became older, in the back of my mind, I was exhausted by the notion of what it meant to be a woman. No matter what I did, I was not following one unspoken rule or another. However, as I listened more to Sade’s lyrics about love and loss or religiously watched the occasional interviews she’d grace us with, I came to understand that being a woman is not about what one wears, how one moves, or what one likes or doesn’t like. For Sade and for me, womanhood is defined by curating the type of nurturing soul that loves itself and the world unconditionally—even when the world doesn’t love us women back. I learned from my parasocial obsession with Sade that I don’t need to raise my voice to be heard; I need to speak with more grace and kindness. Even when I am angry.
In recent years, curated personalities have been sold to us through cogent aesthetics with the promise of becoming “that girl.” And Sade’s alluring presence is no exception. So, what does it mean to be a “Sade Girl” according to TikTok or Instagram? It means wearing heavy gold hoop earrings, having floral hand tattoos (I wish), donning red and brown lipsticks, and drenching ourselves in earthy colour palettes. Though a silly Internet trend does have the potential to introduce Sade to a new generation of listeners, the commodification of “what it means to be like Sade” also risks listeners missing out on the true depths of her lyrics, and instead, becoming tied up in the aesthetics of sensuality and performative femininity.
Sade is not for you to wear. She shouldn’t live in your closet, tangled up with all the other trend-satisfying outfits in there. Sade should live in your heart, in your mind, and on your tongue. If not, then you can’t claim that you are a true “Sade Girl.”
Opinion Editor (Volume 51); Associate Opinion Editor (Volume 50) — Mashiyat (Mash) is a third-year student studying Neuroscience and Professional Writing and Communication (PWC). As this year’s Opinion Editor, Mash hopes to use her writing, editorial, and leadership skills in supporting student journalism in the essential role it plays in fostering intellectual freedom and artistic expression on campuses. When she’s not writing or slaving away at school, Mash uses her free time cooking cultural dishes, striking up conversations with strangers, and being anxious about her nebulous career plans. You can connect with Mash on her LinkedIn.
Beautiful article, I am a “Sade girl”, i love Sade, i absolutely love their music. I have been listening to the band since I was 10 years somewhere there. My late parents loved her music, and the love of music was naturally transfered to me. The songs like “cherish the day” and “kiss of life”, has meaningful memories for me and holds a special place in my heart. Thank you Mash, for sharing your thoughts. I think you are beautiful, articulate and truly gifted in writing. I am an amateur writer myself with nothing published. I love this piece.