Has TikTok Killed Personal Style?

In my junior year of high school, I remember looking at old pictures of myself from freshman year. I wore ripped fishnets, thick eyeliner, and all-black clothes religiously. I found myself admiring those photos, not because I was extremely stylish or anything, but because they felt honest. Sure, I stood apart from the rest, but I embraced my uniqueness. After reminiscing, I looked in my new closet to find a random assortment of trendy clothes: rhinestone-studded “Y2K” baby tees, lace camis in a million colors, and an ungodly number of clothes with bows (why were there so many bows?). Don’t get me wrong, the clothes were definitely cute, but they didn’t feel like me. In a box in the corner sat my black clothes, untouched like an ancient relic. Somewhere between my freshman and junior year, my closet stopped reflecting who I was and started reflecting my TikTok “For You Page.” Standing in front of a closet of clothes that weren’t really me, I couldn’t help but wonder: How did we get here?

In an era where everything is filmed, posted, and shared with the world, style no longer feels personal. It instead feels like we’re performing for an audience, being watched by everyone on the internet. Every few weeks, TikTok users ask the same questions: “What are we wearing this summer?” “What are we wearing on Halloween?” “Are we still doing corsets?” Now, more than ever, we cycle through trends so fast that we have to keep jumping to new styles. And no one wants to be the person who didn’t get the memo on the current trend. So we follow them because keeping up seems safer than falling behind. 

TikTok didn’t just show us new clothes; it categorized them. It told us what each piece meant about people and what kinds of people wore them. The rise of aesthetics and “-cores” on TikTok allowed for this categorization to really take flight, with people devoting themselves to “cottage-core” and “coquette-core” aesthetics. Style became something you could simply select and replicate to a tee. There’s no longer a need to experiment with your style when everything is already laid out for you. Not just clothes or accessories are assigned to you, but the personality traits and everything about the way you live life. 

And once you’ve picked a box, the algorithm makes you stay in it. The second you hit like on that first video, TikTok will continue to feed you content of people telling you exactly how to wear clothes, what hobbies to have, and how to behave to be a part of that aesthetic. Everyone on your feed starts to look like you, and it feels comforting in a way, like you’re doing something right. But is successfully blending in with a crowd enough?

So now, rather than adopting styles that naturally align with who you are, aesthetics have become the blueprint that people mold their own personalities around. Instead of developing style organically, through the places you go, the people you meet, and the experiences you live, you adjust yourself to fit the subculture. You lose yourself. Subcultures that once made people feel seen have now become identities that people box themselves into. 

What’s interesting about this is how people use aesthetics to intentionally signify something about themselves. One example of this is the Ivy League aesthetic, which centers on preppy staples like Polo Ralph Lauren, tailored basics, and polished, minimal pieces styled to look effortlessly put together. The look is built around a specific image of academic prestige and quiet affluence, which subtly signals elitism, wealth, and exclusivity. For many, dressing this way isn’t just about impressing others with your style; it’s about trying to communicate things about yourself to others around you. Dressing to say something about yourself isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, the whole point of style is to express your identity. The problem arises when the aesthetic starts defining you instead of reflecting you. In this sense, aesthetics function as a way of manifesting the traits and lifestyle they admire, rather than those traits being authentic to you. 

But all hope isn’t lost. Even with the internet’s pressure to follow trends hovering over you, you can still reclaim your personal style and make it feel like yours again. 

Here are six steps you can take to find your authentic style. 

1. Don’t be afraid to take risks: The risk-takers are the ones who start the trends, so don’t be afraid to get out of your comfort zone. You might not always have the perfect outfit on, but that’s how you grow. You might even end up wearing something unique. It’s scary, but it’s always important to try out new things.
2. Choose what you like, not what your “For You Page” likes: It’s so easy to get caught up with what people are saying they like and don’t like on social media. Try to trust your own instincts on pieces and stay true to your opinion. If you have a vision for certain clothes, go for it! 
3. Give yourself time to develop taste offline: Even though TikTok is a great place for inspiration, the collective hive mind’s opinion can limit your own creativity. Looking around at what other people are wearing in the real world can be a great way to gain inspiration on layering and matching colors and styles of clothes. 
4. Go thrifting: It’s easy to get distracted by popular clothing stores, so going thrifting is a great way to find affordable basics for your closet.
5. Build outfits around staple pieces: Staple pieces are not only reusable and timeless, but they can be great bases for experimenting with new clothing colors and textures. If you decide to splurge on clothes, definitely do so on staple pieces because you’ll be able to use them all the time. 
6. Style Trendy Items With Your Unique Vibe: Many trendy articles of clothing are super cute; that’s why they’re trending after all. The key is to incorporate trends in a way that reflects your own style and personality. A step you could take to achieve this is to integrate a trendy item with one of your favorite outfits. 

• fashion
• style
• tiktok