#31 On Original.
“Hey Siri… play Fred Again.”
On this long drive home, Siri responded with Fred’s first EP — Actual Life 1.
I thought about how many people like this record — obviously heaps —but more than his Boiler Room Set?
Fred’s original tracks make me feel a million things. All at once sad and happy, excited and terrified. I feel like Fred is discussing my life. And it’s because he’s discussing his, and we’re all just in a similar thick of it: in a very monotonous, messy, imploding, exploding, beautiful way.
It resonates.
While Fred’s other tracks make me feel like dancing and hugging my friends, they don’t do much else (and maybe that’s ok). But, I wonder, is it because they don’t feel original? Because they sound like so much else? Why did I get the song title ‘envelops’ tattooed on me and not ‘Jungles’?
I’m curious if artists feel the same way, or if it’s simply all a part of the game – knowing what works, even if it doesn’t work for you personally.
And it’s got me thinking, about how both individuals and brands often sacrifice originality for the sake of virility — and whether it’s worth it in the long run.
Are we becoming ‘Mid?’
What’s the tradeoff for instant gratification? Is it just me, or does it feel like there’s heaps of catering and no innovating?
If you haven’t heard of Mid, don’t worry, it’s only just been picked up by Google Trends, however, it’s been circulating on TikTok since 2020. Mid is typically used as a Gen Z insult for things that have little impact or are “okay”. In 2023, you’d rather your work be bad than be mid. At least the former makes you feel something.
Cool gets likes, gets exposed, gets copied and gets mid. *yawns in jorts*. You can see how this is endless? Offer up your “cool” to the algorithm gods until it’s the opposite, thus needing to find the next “cool” to make sure you’re not going mid. — Morning FYI
What’s the point of being you, if being you is nothing new?
For Fluff, being on a drop model has helped — we’re no longer expected to be ‘new’ every day. Only 4 x a year. But it’s still hard. And I think this is for three reasons:
- Originality has nothing to compare to.
- Originality is risky.
- Originality is reliant on timing. And timing is everything.
Actual Life.
Ahead of our current drop, we’d been thinking about how to talk about our new Lip Oil Shade, which is a bright, fuchsia pink.
Pink is nothing new — so our ideas around it had to be.
The easy route would have been to capitalise on the Barbie trend. But that felt uninspiring. So I started writing about the history of pink and its evolving gender assignment. But that felt too high brow.
So I went back. Back to where this colour started for Fluff, which is with Shelby Hamilton.
Shelby Hamilton was Fluff’s original muse and one of our first employees. At 19, I convinced her to move from Sydney to Melbourne and work her first full time job. Shelby had been an MTV IT Girl in her early teens, and had a Tumblr account that I could get lost in for hours. I couldn’t make this human up if I tried.
For two? and a bit years Shelby led our content role and influenced the majority of Fluff’s creative. She, like me was angry at the beauty industry, and struggling with her relationship to the internet. She felt like my little sister, and at the same time she challenged me on ideas that felt like she was a 100-year-old oracle sent from another world. Shelby was magic. She was the definition of original.
This pink reminds me of Shelby. Not only was it her favourite colour but it’s brightness makes me think about her wandering mind, how playful and innocent, how troubled at times, and how committed to art and magic and mess she was.
It’s actual life, and it’s why it’s called Shelby pink.
As I was cleaning out my storage room, trying to distract myself from thinking about our campaign, I found Shelby’s resignation letter, written on two A0 posters, which were of course, a bright fuchsia pink — And that was it.
No looking to the future about what the next pink trend will be, or trying to do what everyone else was doing. Just going with what made me feel something. This letter. Shelby had things she needed to tell me, and now I want to share them with our audience. It resonates.
“Are we asking other people what they think, so we don’t have to say it? I think you should stop commenting on what everyone is talking about. I hate everyone. They’re not you. When people choose Fluff, they choose you.”
Magic outside of the internet.
Ten, 15 years ago, culture or inspiration didn’t come from the internet, it came from magazines, going outside, and books and art and letters and conversations.
And yet today so many creatives find themselves writing strategies for brands based on content that has proved successful, so that we can say “it’s worked, it’ll work again — check this link” but what this means is, we’re only recycling content, time and time again. We’re sacrificing originality. We move away from actual life to a constructed one, based on vanity metrics and share-ability. And we’re left feeling a sense of awkward Déjà vu, questioning innovation, and ultimately bored.
Why is Target trying to be Jacquemus and why is Jacquemus trying to be Burberry? Are we all just iterating, and who is truly ideating?
Beauty is messy. Tell that story.
Recently I went for a walk with Cathryn Wills from Sans Beast. We regularly catch up to discuss business, life, and mostly how to relate to a younger workforce (we’re still trying to figure this out). She said content remains king: brand feeling.
I guess she was talking about originality. And while I feel dismayed by the brands that not only exist but thrive without meaning, I can look to the brands that persist with patience, to build something slow and meaningful, to remind me that there’s a point in all of this.
I‘ve been reflecting on when I’m most curious, and why. Usually it’s when I give my brain space — an activity that doesn’t require much thinking, like driving, cleaning, showering, walking etc. I’m focused on something, but not specifically anything. And then the creative thoughts come in.
It’s in this space that I think originality is born. And yet so few of us make time for that space. Our industry doesn’t allow it, expecting us to churn out content every day, and our jobs don’t either, leaving little time for daydreaming or brainstorming. The internet’s endless scroll certainly doesn’t help.
I think originality comes from asking questions, the biggest ones of ourselves. Why do I like this, why don’t I like that? Why do I believe this? What would it feel if the opposite was true? Why do I need to say something? What do I actually find interesting?
I’m Interested:
-In the paradox of managing and fixing, whether that be issues at work, at home, with ourselves, with those around us.
-In considered opinions, and holding space for that of others. Here’s Dieter Rams pointing at things he doesn’t like, c/o Nick Hallam’s tiny letter.
I think what we’re doing is interesting:
Fluff’s current drop features a restock of our existing sold out products, as well as a collaboration with visual artist Samy Baby, in which she’s hand-engraved over 100 Cloud Compacts. We released 30 online which sold out in 24 hours, and have just released a second batch here. We have a range of prices from $150 to $800 AUD. $800 might be a lot for a Bronzing Powder, but it’s not much to pay for art that you’ll hold onto for a lifetime. Each art piece has taken Samy 2 hours and 30 years to do. (If you know, you know.)
We wanted Samy to hand-engrave every single compact, because we believe every cloud is unique. The relationship each Fluff customer has with their cloud is unique — just like their personal relationship to beauty.
Fluff wants to be one of the few beauty brands that values quality over quantity, and better products over more products. This collaboration is everything we believe the beauty industry could be: personal, thoughtful, interesting.
The rest of the compacts will be available to view and purchase at an exhibition in Melbourne on December 15 & 16, alongside other works of art by Samy, exploring the concept of the ‘vessel’, at At The Above (you should come). They’re incredible. They’re art. And you should own one.
This represents a shift in Fluff’s approach to future product development — one which I’m inspired by and excited about.
-I interviewed Jessica DeFino for Fluff’s podcast and I’m grateful for the time and space she gave me, discussing the nuances and oxymorons of our industry. It’s a meaningful convo that I’d love you to listen to. In Season 4 of Pretty Hard we’ve also released our episodes with Erin Deering and Sam Wood, who have provided equally interesting perspectives on beauty and identity. Side note, I spoke to the women at Clever Women Co all about frank vs Fluff, starting vs scaling, and basic maths. Listen to that convo here.
TLDR:
So that’s me — when people ask what’s new, my answer is ‘not much’, and when people ask what I’ve been doing, my answer, other than ‘lots to do’, is ‘thinking about stuff’. Thinking about who Fluff should collaborate with next, thinking about what Fluff could look like in five years. Thinking about what story to tell: about beauty, identity, and actual life.
We’ve all gotta do something with our day.
If you like reading these updates, please share it with someone you think might feel the same.
And say hi.
