We’re living through a brand boom and you can feel it everywhere.
Scroll through your feed, wander through any city, sit and observe the nomads at work in your favourite coffee house. It seems like everyone is building something. Whether it’s a football-inspired clothing label, a curated small plates book born out of an East London kitchen, an electrolyte brand, or an influencer drop cashing in on their ‘loyal’ audience, the act of launching a brand has become almost effortless.
Or so people think.
The tools are accessible, the barriers are low, and the templates are everywhere. That isn’t a bad thing. In fact, it’s exciting, if it’s done with integrity and substance.
More people are building. More ideas are being shared. It’s a creative surge that feels democratic and fast. But amidst all this output, one thing feels increasingly rare: taste.
When I say taste, I don’t mean aesthetics. There’s no shortage of slick design or well-lit product photography. Taste is a decision-making lens, a quiet confidence that makes a brand feel anchored. Something deeper than visual style. Something instinctive.
Because if everyone has a brand now (and it feels like they do), then the real question becomes:
What separates one from another?
What gives it weight?
What makes it stick?
Launching something has never been easier. You can spin up a Shopify before lunch, drop a graphic tee on Monday, and call it a lifestyle by Wednesday. By Sunday you’ve got a community. And sure, that’s part of the fun. But speed has overtaken intention. Everyone’s creating. Fewer people are considering.
The result? Brands that look good but say little. Beautiful. Fleeting. Forgettable.
Taste goes beyond the right font. It’s knowing when not to use one. It’s the confidence to launch with one product instead of five. The clarity to let silence do the work. The kind of maturity that makes something feel timeless instead of temporary.
You can’t rush taste and you can’t template it.
Look at brands like Gentle Monster. Every store is a world of its own, more installation than retail, more feeling than function. They’ve shown how architecture and theatre can replace advertising. Or Byredo. The products storytell and their branding has personality, much like good typography, or good coffee.
Holzweiler, from Norway, builds taste through tone. Their campaigns don’t try to convince you of anything, they invite you into an atmosphere. Every photo, soundtrack and casting decision feels lived-in. And Snow Peak proves that technical design can be poetic. Their products have function and philosophy at once.
These brands move slower. They release less. They edit harder. And in that process, they remind us that taste is about care.
This isn’t about money. Taste doesn’t need a big budget. It needs better decisions. It’s found in the spacing between words, the restraint in a launch calendar, the way your brand sounds at midnight when someone lands on your site.
If you’re building something now, that’s the work. Not just to stand out, but to stand for something. To move with enough clarity and consistency that people begin to trust what you make and how you make it.
The challenge isn’t getting attention anymore. It’s keeping it. And in a world addicted to immediacy, the most radical thing you can do is slow down and build something with taste.
Because the brands that last won’t be the loudest. They’ll be the ones who said less, did more, and meant every word.
Taste will always be the edge.
You just have to give it time to show.
Shot of the good stuff
