Yes, I’m Gatekeeping. No, I’m Not a Hater.
Let’s talk about the elephant in the group chat:
“Link?” “Where’s your _____ from?” “If you’re a gatekeeper you’re not a girl’s girl.”
We’ve all seen it. Posted it. Rolled our eyes at it. There’s this compulsive expectation now that the second you put something cute online, you’re obligated to itemize the entire look like a customer service rep. Top? Linked. Skirt? Linked. Socks? Linked. Soul? Probably linked too.
But here’s the thing: not everything needs to be shared. And no, that doesn’t make me mean. It makes me intentional.
The disappearing art of discovery.
There was a time, pre-TikTok, pre-Instagram, pre-LTK—when personal style required personal effort. You had to look. You had to hunt. You had to develop taste the hard way: by getting it wrong, figuring it out, and evolving. Now, discovery is often replaced by consumption. Aesthetic has become a fast-moving commodity, not a cultivated expression.
This shift has turned fashion into a performance of access. But when everyone is performing the same thing, where does individuality live?
When you ask someone to “drop the link,” you’re not just asking for the item, you’re skipping the process. You’re bypassing the creative labor it took to build that look in the first place. And worse, you’re turning personal taste into a productized, bite-sized checklist. Top. Skirt. Shoes. Done.
But personal style isn’t a list. It’s a language.
And some things get lost in translation when they’re handed over too easily.
Gatekeeping as a form of preservation.
Let’s redefine the word, because the internet has weaponized it. Gatekeeping, in this context, is not about exclusion for the sake of ego. It’s about protecting the parts of style that algorithms can’t replicate.
When I choose not to tag an item, it’s not because I’m trying to flex exclusivity. It’s because I value the intentionality behind the look. I spent time curating that outfit. I thought about silhouette, proportion, texture, and tone. I considered what I wanted to say without having to say it out loud. That’s not gatekeeping out of malice; that’s curating with care.
Sharing everything flattens that. It turns craftsmanship into copy-paste culture.
And let’s be honest, when everyone wears the same thing, it doesn’t matter how good it is. Originality evaporates. Fashion becomes noise.
The false promise of “community.”
There’s a common rebuttal: “Sharing is building community.”
But let’s interrogate that. What kind of community are we building when style becomes standardized? When everyone is shopping from the same Amazon storefront, curating the same Pinterest boards, and dressing to align with a feed instead of a feeling?
True community in fashion should be about connection through perspective, not matching outfits. It’s about dialogue: “What inspired this look?” “How did you style that?” “What references are you pulling from?” Not just “link?”
The obsession with accessibility is often less about community and more about convenience. And those aren’t the same thing.
“Trendy is the last stage before tacky.”
— Karl Lagerfeld
Harsh? Maybe. But look at what’s happening: every niche becomes mainstream within weeks. Every standout look gets mass-produced. Every moment of creative individuality is flattened by demand.
Gatekeeping is how we preserve the tension that style needs: the desire, the curiosity, the chase.
Style requires effort.
Not every outfit needs to be tagged. Not every piece should be traceable.
And no, that doesn’t make me mean.
It means I still believe in the art of fashion. I still believe in the power of discovery. I still believe some things should stay unlinked because effort is part of the experience.
If you really want it, you’ll search. You’ll reverse image. You’ll scroll through eBay for two hours at midnight. You’ll build your own references instead of copying mine.
That’s not elitism. That’s taste-building.
“The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.”
— Coco Chanel
So no, I won’t be tagging that top.
Not because I don’t want you to find it, but because I want you to want it enough to look.