Sometimes, I scroll through outfits and think, I love this, but I’m not sure if I love it for me, or because someone wore it with the kind of ease I’ve never pulled off. One swipe turns into ten. A mental wishlist forms. Something about their confidence makes anything look wearable.

So I try it. I buy the jacket, the shoes, the layered necklaces. And sometimes it works. But other times, it just feels like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s story.

It’s hard to know where personal style ends and imitation begins. Inspiration is everywhere, Pinterest boards, fashion TikToks, people walking past the café window. That spark of I want to feel like that isn’t bad. But somewhere in the mix, it gets murky: Am I choosing what I like, or just what looks like it belongs to someone cooler?

There’s no clean answer. Maybe style isn’t about originality. Maybe it’s about what sticks. What you reach for again without thinking. What you feel like yourself in, even if it started as a copy.

Confidence is loud, but comfort is honest. I’m still learning to tell the difference. And maybe that’s part of finding style too: trying things, letting some of it feel wrong, and keeping what feels real.