There was a point when access felt special. When seeing behind the curtain meant something. Now it feels expected. Stories update in real time. Processes are documented live. Every thought, decision, and wobble is shared on the way to the outcome.

What used to create connection is starting to dilute it. How ironic. 

Oversharing didn't begin as a mistake. It came from a good instinct. Be open, be human. Bring people along for the journey. But somewhere along the way, we confused visibility with value and access with relevance.

Desire doesn't work like that.

Desire needs distance. It needs space to breathe and room for interpretation. When everything is explained, contextualised, and constantly available, there's nothing left to lean into.

You don't crave what you already fully understand.

This shows up clearly in brand building.

The more a brand explains itself, the less it feels like something you believe in. When messaging tries to answer every possible question upfront, it reads like insecurity. The work starts carrying the burden of justification instead of presence.

Some of the most compelling brands and figures have always resisted this pull.

Martin Margiela built an entire legacy on absence. No interviews. No personal mythology. No need to be seen. That refusal to explain shifted attention back to the work and allowed mystery to do the heavy lifting.

Phoebe Philo operates with similar silence. Rare communication. Minimal commentary. No urgency to participate in the mainstream. When something does appear, it lands with weight because it hasn't been diluted by constant presence.

At scale, Apple understood this for years. Products were introduced and stories were controlled. Messaging was sparse. They trusted the audience to meet them halfway rather than dragging them through every decision.

Oversharing removes that. It turns discovery into consumption.

This matters just as much for personal brands. There's pressure now to be permanently visible. To share the process, the thinking, the emotion, the strategy.

Daily presence is framed as authenticity.

But presence without space becomes nothing. Even if your presence is welcomed. 

Some of the strongest personal brands I know don't say much at all. They show up deliberately and leave gaps. They allow people to wonder what they're working on next rather than narrating it live. Those gaps create gravity.

Oversharing also shortens your runway. When every thought is public, you lock yourself into positions before they've had time to mature. 

Read that again.

You're forced to perform coherence instead of letting it form naturally.

Mystery gives you room to evolve in the shadows.

This isn't about secrecy or arrogance. It's about edit. About understanding that not everything needs to be shared to be felt. That trust can be built through consistency and taste, not constant explanation.

In a culture that rewards availability, withholding becomes a signal of power.

The brands and people that last don't chase attention. They understand that desire grows in the space between appearances, not in the flood of updates. Oversharing feels generous. It feels safe. It feels like participation.

But desire has never lived in full access. It lives in what you choose not to show. 

You can have too much of a good thing. Remember that. 

Shot of the good stuff.