Marcel Winatschek

One Version at a Time

I stand in front of the wardrobe and the paralysis sets in. The rebellious jacket. The clean sportswear. The fitted suit. The jeans-and-black-t-shirt default that does most of the heavy lifting on ordinary days. The problem is that I contain all of these versions simultaneously, but people only ever see the one I actually put on. Clothes make the person, whether you believe it or not.

Online it’s the same thing, except I’ve been changing outfits in public for years—redesigning, reshuffling, trying on different tones and aesthetics and structures, never quite landing on one. Not to irritate anyone. Genuinely because I don’t know which version of myself belongs here. Serious? Playful? Sharp? Just honest and a little messy? Every choice closes something off.

Eventually you go back to the version where you actually put the work in—not the newest or the shiniest, but the one that cost something to build. That’s the one worth keeping.