the power of knowing what you like
on reclaiming individuality
a quick note
for the record® just hit 2,000 subscribers. The last time I posted, there were only 14 of you — so this growth feels both surreal and deeply encouraging. Thank you for being here, for reading, for caring. It means more than I can say.
I hope you enjoy this one x
“When you learn what you can live without, you are able to ask life for the very best because you possess the gift of discernment. You are able to create an authentic life because you are able to make conscious choices.”
— Sarah Ban Breathnach
I suppose you could call that gift “taste.”
But what I love about this quote is that it’s not the try-hard kind of taste. It’s personal. It’s about staying true to your core.
If you’re looking for intentional ways to build beauty in your life (the kind that feels fun and genuine) I think I’ve got some thoughts to share.
personal taste
Maybe to some the word taste doesn’t resonate. I get that. It can sound intimidating or even a little pretentious. But underneath that word, I think this is really about discernment, self-trust, and creative identity.
Taste takes shape in your creative choices and the environment you build around you. Books, movies, style, projects, decor, music.
And it doesn’t have to be so serious.
the story we tell
It sounds ridiculous, but I think I express my beliefs through aesthetics. My surroundings and style (and even my decision to start for the record) are extensions of my values. I use creative practice as a mirror for identity.
I’ve always been sensitive to beauty. Even as a kid, if I couldn’t sleep, I’d redecorate my room in my head.
In my teens, I preferred to shop my mom’s cupboard instead of keeping up with what everyone else wore. Embracing something I loved (even when it wasn’t necessarily considered cool) somehow made me feel more like myself.
That didn’t mean I was immune to trying to fit in.
I’ll never forget the first time I wasted money doing just that.
At 15, I’d saved up from my holiday job and bought a pair of black and white Adidas Superstars because everyone at school had them. I wore them twice and never again.
It wasn’t even about the shoes, it was how I felt wearing them.
After years of trusting my own judgment, that choice felt off.
It taught me something I’ve never forgotten: confidence doesn’t come from fitting in, it comes from recognizing what feels aligned to you.
your visual autobiography
At its simplest, taste means the ability to recognize and appreciate what is beautiful, good, or appropriate.
To me, it’s the quiet art of knowing what feels like you (a muscle built through observation, intuition, and repetition).
It’s how your inner world becomes visible.
My parents’ lounge is filled with reds, golds, and browns. There are clashing patterns and African sculptures. All are pieces they collected while living in Uganda.
I used to feel embarrassed by it. It didn’t look like other people’s beige homes.
As an adult, I see it differently. Every object is a memory, a reflection of who they were in that season. You can feel the soul in the room.
It’s not about having “better” taste, but truer taste.
the age of aesthetic blending
Scroll long enough and everything begins to look the same.
We live in a world obsessed with trends. Social media convinces us that beauty can be bought and that taste can be copied.
I’ve fallen prey to this so often.
And to be quite frank, the best solution has been not having social media on my phone for the last couple of years.
I started to notice that every impulsive decision I made (every “add to cart”) came after a scroll session. The more I consumed, the more I felt lack.
But taste isn’t algorithmic.
So I began to curate more consciously.
To intentionally follow people who make me feel expansive, not insufficient.
To engage deeply with what genuinely fascinates me.
To journal, and document my own experiences.
collective wisdom
Steve Jobs said, “Everything around you that you call life was made up by people no smarter than you, and you can change it, you can influence it, you can build your own things that other people can use.”
We’re all borrowing from a shared creative ecosystem. Collecting cues, quirks, and influences that reflect our unique way of seeing.
Taste isn’t perfection. It’s the collection of small, imperfect clues that form your worldview.
And for the record, it’s not bad to like the mainstream.
If you’re rejecting things purely because they’re popular, that’s still letting other people’s opinions guide your choices.
Taste is about alignment, not rebellion.
the gap
I love a little bit of psychology…
Self-discrepancy theory, proposed by psychologist E. Tory Higgins, says that negative emotions often arise from the gap between our actual self and our ideal self (who we hope to be) or ought self (who we think we should be).
Every time we outsource our taste — dressing, decorating, creating to impress instead of express — that gap widens.
But every time we make a choice that simply feels true, we bridge that gap a little.
curation
Cultivating taste has become a creative ritual for me.
Journaling. Collecting. Observing beauty.
It’s connecting mastery with individuality.
It’s how you build meaning into the everyday.
Every choice can become a breadcrumb trail back to your inner world.
You don’t even need to know why you like what you like.
Over time, familiar themes emerge (like handwriting). That becomes your signature.
Building a sense of personal beauty isn’t self-indulgent.
It’s self-knowing.
It’s a conversation between who you’ve been and who you’re becoming.
generous taste
When I was younger, my little sister copied everything I did.
It used to drive me crazy.
Now I see it differently: she was trying to connect.
Taste should never divide us.
It’s not identity armor or a status symbol.
Taste can actually be generous.
It’s how we inspire each other.
at the core of it all
At its core, taste is self-trust.
Every time you choose something because it feels right (not because it’s trending) you strengthen that inner compass that says, I can rely on my own discernment.
When your work, your environment, and your voice begin to reflect that, you start to see yourself clearly.
Confidence isn’t built by being liked.
It’s built by liking what you like.
It’s the antidote to comparison and the remedy for indecision.
You can’t buy taste. You can’t fake alignment.
But you can build both; through awareness and your imperfect, beautiful way of seeing the world.
Because in the end, taste isn’t about having style.
It’s about having self
knowing yourself
staying open to inspiration
and actually,
maybe it is all just
fun and games
and through that lightness
you’ll forget where you thought you were meant to be
and find yourself
in the world you built
walking through the “you”-shaped door
to your home of gifts.
— sydney
I hope you leave this feeling a little more at ease with what you love.
I hope you keep listening to your inner voice
and find peace, freedom, and confidence in the practice of doing so.
x
for the record® is an independent publication, written with love from a little corner of South Africa. 🇿🇦
Since Substack doesn’t support paid subscriptions here yet, I’ve set up a Buy Me a Coffee for anyone who wants to support this work and help it grow.
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I’ve always had my own ways of documenting life, but lately I’ve been looking for something more meaningful than letting photos pile up in my hard drive.
Thank you for this. It felt like a quiet, necessary correction to the noise of the algorithm.
The line about your parents' lounge—the one filled with clashing patterns and African sculptures—stopped me. You articulated something I’ve felt but never named: the difference between a house that is decorated and a home that is lived into. My own home is a collection of such "imperfect clues," and I’ve often felt the pressure to streamline them into a more cohesive, and ultimately, blander, whole. You’ve reframed them not as clutter, but as chapters.
This, for me, was the core of it: “Confidence isn’t built by being liked. It’s built by liking what you like.” I’ve spent a lifetime outsourcing my validation, and this simple reversal feels like a key. It’s the antidote you promised.
My reflective takeaway is this: I’m going to spend this week noticing one thing each day that I genuinely like, separate from its trend status—a specific song, the way light hits a mug, a worn-out phrase I use—and just acknowledge it. A small exercise in strengthening that inner compass.
Beautifully done. It’s no suprises your subscribers took off by the numbers you truly have a gift ❤️