15 Seconds of Style
If you told me a few years ago that I’d be taking fashion advice from a 15-second video, I probably would not have believed you. But today, my closet, and honestly, my entire style I owe a lot to TikTok.
Growing up, I always had an interest in clothes, but I didn’t have a clear sense of personal style. I dressed based on what I saw in stores, what my friends wore, or whatever happened to be trending on social media at the time. It was a mix-and-match game, and I often found myself chasing aesthetics without really understanding what I liked or what made me feel confident.
Eventually, I found my way to TikTok. What started as mindless scrolling quickly became a source of inspiration. I was introduced to creators who broke down outfit formulas, offered budget-friendly styling tips, and introduced me to niche fashion trends I had never heard of. Suddenly, fashion felt more personal less about following rules and more about expressing identity. TikTok became a space where I could experiment, learn, and ultimately refine my style in a way that felt authentic to me.
Discovering My Style
I never really had a set style. I went from ‘VSCO girl’ to ‘Indie’ to ‘Basic’ and now I’m the ultimate embodiment of a ‘Grandma Chic’. Because of my ever changing style I accumilated a closet so big I had more outfits than days in a year.
This is a dream closet. I understand that.
This is a dream closet, I get that. It’s the kind of wardrobe you would expect to see in a rom-com makeover montage, cue the upbeat music, spinning racks of clothes, and a best friend hyping you up in the background. It’s the aesthetic perfection of Cher Horowitz’s closet in Clueless, where every outfit is coordinated, categorized, and somehow effortlessly iconic.
It’s not just about having a lot of clothes, it’s about having the right clothes. The kind that make you feel like the main character, that turn a quick trip to the coffee shop into a fashion moment. It’s organized, stylish, and versatile, filled with staple pieces, statement items, and accessories that tie everything together. My closet represented a clothing store. There was no specific style, specific personality, specific person to it. I am the definition of shop until you drop.
Here is Cher Horowitz’s closet again.
Here is my mess of a closet cleanout
Here’s a look at my closet from a while back, during one of my many attempts to declutter. At first glance, it might look like a productive moment, and to some extent, it was. I did manage to get rid of a good amount of clothes, filling bags with items that no longer “sparked joy.”
Most of the clothes I parted with were ones I had bought just a few months prior. At the time, they felt like must-haves, trendy, cute, and exactly what I thought I needed to stay relevant. But they quickly lost their appeal, either because the trend had passed, they did not quite fit right, or they simply did not feel like me. It was frustrating. I was constantly chasing a new trend, spending money on pieces that were not built to last in either quality or style.
Looking back, that decluttering moment was not just about tidying up my closet, it was suppose to begin a bigger realization. I wish then I started to realize the cycle I was stuck in. Buying impulsively, purging frequently, and still never feeling fully satisfied with what I owned. Haul after haul, new purchase after new purchase.
I think a lot about my fast fashion consumption, and honestly, it’s a little overwhelming. When I add up the amount of money I’ve spent on places like Zara and Shein over the years, it’s hard not to cringe. At the time, each purchase felt small and justifiable, a $12 top here, a $20 dress there, but it adds up quickly, both financially and environmentally.
I bought so many fast fashion pieces during high school. From retail stores like Forever 21 and H&M to online websites. Fashion trends were constantly changing, faster than ever before. Thanks to TikTok, there was a new “must-have” look practically every week, and the pressure to keep up was real. The only way I could afford to stay current was through cheap, disposable clothing. Shein, with its endless pages of trendy pieces and unbelievably low prices, felt like the answer. Just one scroll through my order history is proof of how easily I got sucked in.
The Thrift-Flip Effect
One of the biggest shifts TikTok inspired in me was turning, or really, returning to secondhand fashion. It’s kind of ironic, considering I’ve actually been shopping secondhand my whole life.
When I was younger, I used to go thrifting with my dad at this place I called “the mixed up store.” In reality, it was the Goodwill bins, a chaotic, treasure-hunt kind of place where clothes weren’t neatly hung on racks but tossed into massive blue bins for you to dig through. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was fun. We’d spend hours there, sifting through random items, occasionally finding something special. At the time, shopping at the Goodwill or secondhand stores was very looked down upon. I did not think of it as being sustainable or stylish, it was just a way to get affordable clothes and spend time with my dad.
Somewhere along the way, thrifting became a trend. I would say this was because of TikTok. TikTok brought thrifting into the spotlight, not just as a budget-friendly option, but as a way to define personal style with more intention. I talk more in debt about Goodwill and its effect in the fashion world in my blog “Thrifted, Trending, and Making a Difference: How TikTok is Powering Goodwill.”
Suddenly, thrifting wasn’t just practical it was creative, expressive, and even cool. It reminded me of those childhood memories, but it also opened up a new way of approaching fashion.
Before I knew it, I was doing massive thrift hauls. I’d spend whole afternoons going from one thrift store to the next, scanning racks for gems. My closet started to fill with secondhand pieces I genuinely loved. Items that made me excited to get dressed in the morning. Not because they were trendy, but because they felt like me.
Some days I’d walk out with just one great find, but other days? I’d leave with bags of clothes for under fifty dollars, something unimaginable if I were shopping retail. It was fun, fulfilling, and honestly addicting in the best way. I started documenting my hauls, sharing them with friends, and even incorporating thrifting content into my socials for fun.
Thrifting has become so much more than a shopping habit for me it’s a full-circle moment. What started as childhood trips to the “mixed up store” with my dad has evolved into a deeper appreciation for fashion, individuality, and sustainability. Through TikTok and the resurgence of secondhand culture, I’ve found a way to reconnect with those early memories while redefining my style on my own terms. Each haul, each piece I bring home, feels like a small act of creativity, a reminder that fashion doesn’t have to be fast to be meaningful. And while I may still get swept up in trends now and then, I know that some of the best finds and the best stories are waiting somewhere at the thrift stores.
A New Mindset
Now, I use TikTok more intentionally. I tune into content that is aimed towards sustainable fashion, capsule wardrobes, and personal expression over trends. I’ve learned that fashion can still be fun and fresh without being wasteful. Instead of copying every look I see, I try to adapt what I love into my own wardrobe, using what I already have, or sourcing secondhand.
TikTok helped me see fashion as a form of storytelling. It’s not about being trendy. It’s about being you.
Closing Thoughts
TikTok has been more than just entertainment, it’s been a digital mirror, helping me explore who I am and how I want to show up in the world. Through style challenges, creator inspiration, and (yes) the occasional impulse buy, I’ve discovered that fashion is personal, evolving, and endlessly creative.
So thank you TikTok for influencing my style journey, and teaching me that good fashion doesn’t come from the algorithm. It comes from expressing yourself not expressing others.
For You Fashion 
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