Try copying how someone walks and you'll see what I mean. Walking patterns are a complete mirror of personality. The heavy footed depressed type is my favorite. Slouched and stomping with momentum, they're a cross between a Snuffleupagus and Big Foot.
Speaking of the big foot stride. My old roommate in Minneapolis was a carbon copy. Witnessing her two-hundred pound frame cruise by in satin black bra and panties set changed me. I now feel nothing when I see an attractive women in black lingerie.
I wouldn't be so scarred if it was a quick walk by, a blip on my radar, a flash of white and black in the corner of my eye. It wasn't. I was facing her direction, deep in thought. We locked eyes. Lost in the whatever train of thought I was riding, I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. She was Jason from Friday the 13th running about with a machete and I was one of the first promiscuous, big-haired teenagers to go.
Stride. It says a lot about you.