Curate like nobody’s watching

For me, curation is way more personal than that. Noticing what you’re drawn to and be honest about it. Even if it’s ‘weird’. Even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else and if it’s completely out of step with what’s ‘on trend’.

It’s choosing what stays with you. And not always what you share. That’s curation.

And I think that’s where a lot of people miss the point. Curation has become the trend and turned into something public. A highlight reel and a photo grid. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. But the kind of curation that lasts, the kind that shapes you, happens in private. You know, the stuff nobody sees.

I’m thinking about this now because I’m in the process of redefining the kind of work I want to do and be known for. And when you’re in that space, where things feel a bit undefined and chaotic, curation becomes everything because it’s one of the rawest forms of intentionality.

It’s that feeling of standing in my metaphorical house, channelling my inner Marie Kondo and asking:

What do I keep?
What do I let go of?
What still feels like me?
What never really did?

I didn’t realise this at first but that’s questioning your defaults and being intentional, because here’s the part people may not always recognise:

Curation isn’t just putting ‘good things’ together, it’s saying to whoever is watching or listening, ‘this is what I care about’. And maybe more importantly, ‘this is what I don’t’. And I’ve done a lot of that over the last few years.

That can be challenging when you work in creative industries that expect you to fit in, follow trends, and deliver what clients want. But if you’re always curating for others and gauging reactions, you lose the one thing that makes your perspective worth anything: you.

So when I say I’m thinking about curation, what I really mean is I’m reminding myself to like what I like. To hold onto it, even if it’s not fashionable. To trust that my taste is enough.

Build a world around you that reflects what you care about; in your work, in your home, and in how you live. That kind of curation is what makes great creative work.

So as I’m sit here, sifting through ideas, plans, and pitches for where I want to take my work next, I’m realising this is what I’m curating. Not just references, moodboards, fonts, photos. But my creative identity.

If people like what I curate, they’re welcome to join me on the journey.

But the curation part? That’s mine. It’s not performative or a trend.

And if you’re a creative trying to figure out how to stand out, or even just feel good in what you’re making, I think it starts with you.