Is Gen Z dressing for themselves or the algorithm?
If I had a samosa for the number of times I've heard from people around me, "'Tum Gen Z toh sab same hi kapde pehente ho. How do I tell who's who?'", NGL (Gen Z speak for god promise) I'd be the queen of samosa land
Step into Delhi Metro on a weekend and you’ll see it all: a corset top thrifted from an Instagram store, big, gold jhumkas with cargo pants and a chikankari kurta, and a friend group headed to Sarojini Nagar market, armed in oversized sunnies and baseball caps (think K-pop idol incognito).
Raised on Instagram reels, Zara hauls, and Pinterest boards, Gen Z’s wardrobe is shaped as much by dopamine from likes as by mom’s old saris repurposed into crop tops. But somewhere between trend cycles that move faster than Delhi’s AQI during Diwali and the ever-homogenising scroll of social media, a deeper question surfaces — is what we wear truly ours?
If I had a samosa for the number of times I’ve heard from people around me, “‘Tum Gen Z toh sab same hi kapde pehente ho. How do I tell who’s who?'”, NGL (Gen Z speak for god promise) I’d be the queen of samosa land.
As leading stylist Rishi Raj puts it: “Personal style today starts where the trend ends.” But finding that point in a world built on algorithms is easier said than done.
What once took years to become mainstream now takes a moment – a viral reel, a trending hashtag, or a celebrity look.
Bhavya Aggarwal, 26, recalled how her style was once shaped by fast fashion. “When I was in Gurgaon and too lazy to come to Sarojini, I’d buy from H&M or Zara because I could afford only those brands. Seeing the same things again and again, I started liking them,” she said.
Her reflection isn’t unique. Many Gen Zs find their choices guided by what’s visible, affordable, and trending. “Pinterest pe woh cheezein dikhti hain jo easily milti nahi ya budget mein nahi hoti,” (On Pinterest, you see what is either not easily available or out of budget), she said. On Instagram, it’s a different game. “Everyone’s an influencer getting paid PRs from luxury brands. What’s trending becomes the template,” she said.
She is not wrong. A study by Sprout Social found nearly 90% of Gen Z consumers consider a brand’s social media crucial to their trust. This constant exposure often leads to a sameness in style — oversized shirts, parachute pants, slicked buns, and bows — an assembly line of “individual” looks.
However, Raj pointed out this isn’t unique to Gen Z. “Every generation had defining silhouettes — bell-bottoms in the 70s, acid-wash denim in the 90s. What’s different now is the speed.” Algorithms aren’t just predicting trends, they’re directing them.
Aditi Giri, 26, captures the contradiction: “Gen Z wants to stand out. Style, makeup, even hair; it’s all performance, expression, rebellion, but most end up looking like wannabes.” The desire to be unique is real, but the execution often follows the same script.
Scrolling through reels, she sees a sameness that contradicts the hunger for individuality. “Even when a style doesn’t suit them, people still wear it. They just want acceptance,” Giri said. It’s a modern kind of peer pressure, driven less by people you know and more by people you follow.
Mohit Nakra, assistant professor of fashion styling at Pearl Academy, believes Gen Z is navigating identity in a world that rewards familiarity. “It’s not that Gen Z lacks personal style; it’s that algorithms reward the familiar.” Viral aesthetics like “clean girl” or “electric grandpa” go from niche to mainstream in weeks.
Meanwhile, fashion’s supply chain is so reactive it’s almost predictive. “What starts as a creative idea becomes mass knockoffs,” Nakra said. This replication dilutes originality, making even “alternative” styles feel mass-produced.
Kabir Jain, 23, said, “I don’t think any of us have a personal style we’ve created completely. Personal style today is less invention, more interpretation.”
Raj described it poetically: “Personal style is a lived-in narrative… it’s what you return to even when trends change. It’s about asking if all brands disappeared tomorrow, would you still know how to dress like yourself?”
For many, personal style has become a tightrope between expressing one’s selfhood and conforming to an already established look. When everyone is styled to stand out, who is really standing true?
The experts are unanimous: slow down. “You look local. You value story over scrollability,” Raj said. It might mean reworking your dad’s kurta, rummaging through your grandmother’s trunk, or discovering a little-known Indian label that isn’t algorithm-approved. “Personal style starts where the trend ends.”
Nakra agrees: “Look beyond the obvious. Remix something regional with something modern. Wear your story.”
You can start by asking- what are the styles or pieces you keep reaching for? Are there colours, cuts, or textures that reflect your energy? Maybe you are into 90s minimalism or maybe you love the chaotic layering of Indian streetwear. Document your outfits. Save references. Comfort is always a good look. Consider why you buy what you buy and find meaning, stories and anecdotes in every piece of clothing. Look at designers or stylists like Raf Simons, Shantnu and Nikhil, even pop culture icons like Zendaya, Diljit Dosanjh, whose styling evolves but always feels personal, Nakra said.
Style isn’t just for the now — it can be legacy too. The idea of a generational wardrobe, both Nakra and Raj believe, involves patience, memory, and emotional durability. It’s the opposite of fast fashion. It’s the leather jacket you wore through your twenties, a kanjeevaram sari that’s been in your family for decades, the white shirt you keep repairing because nothing else fits quite like it.
Fashion isn’t just about what we wear, it’s about why we wear it. Gen Z, like every generation before us, is just trying to make sense of who we are in a world that keeps telling us what to be. And maybe that’s what makes our journey with style all the more real. To truly dress like yourself in a world that’s telling you who to be every millisecond — now that is style.
Step into Delhi Metro on a weekend and you’ll see it all: a corset top thrifted from an Instagram store, big, gold jhumkas with cargo pants and a chikankari kurta, and a friend group headed to Sarojini Nagar market, armed in oversized sunnies and baseball caps (think K-pop idol incognito).
Raised on Instagram reels, Zara hauls, and Pinterest boards, Gen Z’s wardrobe is shaped as much by dopamine from likes as by mom’s old saris repurposed into crop tops. But somewhere between trend cycles that move faster than Delhi’s AQI during Diwali and the ever-homogenising scroll of social media, a deeper question surfaces — is what we wear truly ours?
If I had a samosa for the number of times I’ve heard from people around me, “‘Tum Gen Z toh sab same hi kapde pehente ho. How do I tell who’s who?'”, NGL (Gen Z speak for god promise) I’d be the queen of samosa land.
As leading stylist Rishi Raj puts it: “Personal style today starts where the trend ends.” But finding that point in a world built on algorithms is easier said than done.
What once took years to become mainstream now takes a moment – a viral reel, a trending hashtag, or a celebrity look.
Bhavya Aggarwal, 26, recalled how her style was once shaped by fast fashion. “When I was in Gurgaon and too lazy to come to Sarojini, I’d buy from H&M or Zara because I could afford only those brands. Seeing the same things again and again, I started liking them,” she said.
Her reflection isn’t unique. Many Gen Zs find their choices guided by what’s visible, affordable, and trending. “Pinterest pe woh cheezein dikhti hain jo easily milti nahi ya budget mein nahi hoti,” (On Pinterest, you see what is either not easily available or out of budget), she said. On Instagram, it’s a different game. “Everyone’s an influencer getting paid PRs from luxury brands. What’s trending becomes the template,” she said.
She is not wrong. A study by Sprout Social found nearly 90% of Gen Z consumers consider a brand’s social media crucial to their trust. This constant exposure often leads to a sameness in style — oversized shirts, parachute pants, slicked buns, and bows — an assembly line of “individual” looks.
However, Raj pointed out this isn’t unique to Gen Z. “Every generation had defining silhouettes — bell-bottoms in the 70s, acid-wash denim in the 90s. What’s different now is the speed.” Algorithms aren’t just predicting trends, they’re directing them.
Aditi Giri, 26, captures the contradiction: “Gen Z wants to stand out. Style, makeup, even hair; it’s all performance, expression, rebellion, but most end up looking like wannabes.” The desire to be unique is real, but the execution often follows the same script.
Scrolling through reels, she sees a sameness that contradicts the hunger for individuality. “Even when a style doesn’t suit them, people still wear it. They just want acceptance,” Giri said. It’s a modern kind of peer pressure, driven less by people you know and more by people you follow.
Mohit Nakra, assistant professor of fashion styling at Pearl Academy, believes Gen Z is navigating identity in a world that rewards familiarity. “It’s not that Gen Z lacks personal style; it’s that algorithms reward the familiar.” Viral aesthetics like “clean girl” or “electric grandpa” go from niche to mainstream in weeks.
Meanwhile, fashion’s supply chain is so reactive it’s almost predictive. “What starts as a creative idea becomes mass knockoffs,” Nakra said. This replication dilutes originality, making even “alternative” styles feel mass-produced.
Kabir Jain, 23, said, “I don’t think any of us have a personal style we’ve created completely. Personal style today is less invention, more interpretation.”
Raj described it poetically: “Personal style is a lived-in narrative… it’s what you return to even when trends change. It’s about asking if all brands disappeared tomorrow, would you still know how to dress like yourself?”
For many, personal style has become a tightrope between expressing one’s selfhood and conforming to an already established look. When everyone is styled to stand out, who is really standing true?
The experts are unanimous: slow down. “You look local. You value story over scrollability,” Raj said. It might mean reworking your dad’s kurta, rummaging through your grandmother’s trunk, or discovering a little-known Indian label that isn’t algorithm-approved. “Personal style starts where the trend ends.”
Nakra agrees: “Look beyond the obvious. Remix something regional with something modern. Wear your story.”
You can start by asking- what are the styles or pieces you keep reaching for? Are there colours, cuts, or textures that reflect your energy? Maybe you are into 90s minimalism or maybe you love the chaotic layering of Indian streetwear. Document your outfits. Save references. Comfort is always a good look. Consider why you buy what you buy and find meaning, stories and anecdotes in every piece of clothing. Look at designers or stylists like Raf Simons, Shantnu and Nikhil, even pop culture icons like Zendaya, Diljit Dosanjh, whose styling evolves but always feels personal, Nakra said.
Style isn’t just for the now — it can be legacy too. The idea of a generational wardrobe, both Nakra and Raj believe, involves patience, memory, and emotional durability. It’s the opposite of fast fashion. It’s the leather jacket you wore through your twenties, a kanjeevaram sari that’s been in your family for decades, the white shirt you keep repairing because nothing else fits quite like it.
Fashion isn’t just about what we wear, it’s about why we wear it. Gen Z, like every generation before us, is just trying to make sense of who we are in a world that keeps telling us what to be. And maybe that’s what makes our journey with style all the more real. To truly dress like yourself in a world that’s telling you who to be every millisecond — now that is style.
