OBSERVATIONS & OTHER ACCIDENTS

Why constant visibility is losing its appeal — and why mystery is becoming powerful again.

We’re surrounded by a culture where visibility has become the measure of worth. Followers, likes, views — as if quantity could ever replace substance. But here’s the twist: being hyper-visible is losing its appeal. Oversharing is predictable, exhausting, and suddenly, mystery feels radical again. Influencers parade their lives online, day in and day out. Every outfit. Every meal. Every smile. Endlessly on display. And what does the audience get in return? Very little. Metrics and engagement have become the currency of relevance, while substance is rarely part of the equation. The digital Big Brother is alive and thriving. We’ve all been watching for years.

“Oversharing is predictable, exhausting, and suddenly, mystery feels radical again.” — original observation

As I explored in my article for Vogue, this turn is no accident. Mystery has never been a fleeting trend; it’s always been a form of subtle resistance, depth, and intentionality. In a world obsessed with hyper-visibility, choosing what to reveal — and what to withhold — has always been an act of insight and power.

There is a lack of mystery in our lives. In the past, diaries kept under lock and key protected our most intimate secrets; today, transparency has become almost a requirement, and privacy seems more like a distant luxury. In times of constant exposure, can we still preserve the mystery that defines us?

Me, for Vogue (October, 2025)

The New Yorker captures this dynamic succinctly: “As it’s become harder to trust a high number of followers, the opposite—a conspicuously modest following—has attained a certain cachet.” Choosing not to chase followers is now a gesture of prestige, not weakness. Some accounts embrace conspicuous modesty, resisting the relentless pursuit of “content capital.” This is not passive invisibility; it’s a form of control.

Brands are — and always were — complicit. They feed this cycle relentlessly. Visibility over insight. Spectacle over depth. In fashion, the effect is glaring: millions of followers, endless photos, zero understanding. No context. No history. No awareness of the industry they claim to represent. Surface is celebrated. Aspiration is packaged. The noise keeps growing.

Then comes the sudden “return of mystery.” Spare me. As if subtlety were some newfound revelation. Mystery isn’t a trend — it’s contrast. Depth, nuance, restraint: these have always been more compelling than exposure. True allure lives in the unsaid, the unseen, the intentionally withheld. Value doesn’t live in numbers; it lives in thought, craft, and knowledge.

I know this because I’ve lived it. I began in the early blogosphere, long before Instagram turned every thought into “content.” I wrote to inform. To contextualize. To offer readers what they couldn’t find elsewhere. Yes, I posted photos — the medium demanded it — but never at the expense of insight. Seven years in, I closed my blog. Views were becoming the goal. Understanding? Forgotten.

Fast forward to the last years: the cycle got worse. Snap. Post. Comment. Repeat. Influencers draped in brands they barely understand. Feeding algorithms. Starving audiences of context. And suddenly, the narrative shifts: “The new cool is to have no followers.” Mystery isn’t new. It never left. It was drowned under constant overexposure.

Even TIME called it out (by Taylor Crumpton). In We’re All Working for the Algorithm Now, creators produce labour — often deeply personal — for platforms with little protection or compensation. The creator economy monetises everything: grief, milestones, vulnerability. Likes replace understanding. Anxiety replaces calm. Visibility replaces craft.

The creator economy monetises everything: grief, milestones, vulnerability. Likes replace understanding. Anxiety replaces calm. Visibility replaces craft.

The New Yorker adds nuance: “It’s kind of a flex to have bad photography and unpolished content… not hustling too much might paradoxically cast you as more professional and trustworthy.” Avoiding algorithmic overexposure signals control and discretion — qualities the most compelling creators have always understood. It also notes: “The professionalization of social media itself is a big reason why accumulating tons of followers can now seem like a mark of bad taste.” Hyper-visible accounts are no longer aspirational; restraint is.

Another point from the New Yorker: “Perhaps being pointedly low-key on Instagram speaks to a different kind of hustle: the effort to escape the allure of the screen and build clout in physical spaces.” Subtlety and mystery have value precisely because they resist the algorithm. Followers aren’t proof of worth; discretion is.

Finally: “Choosing not to compete in the follower race has become a conspicuous form of taste, even prestige.” This captures the irony perfectly — the return of mystery isn’t a trend. It’s a recognition, belated and selective, of what has always mattered.

In fashion, it’s suffocating. Influencers post every outfit, every show, every backstage second — curated to perfection for likes and brand deals. Millions now call themselves creators. Most earn far less than their visibility suggests. Brands know it. They exploit it. They don’t want voices. They want content machines. Authenticity is a prop. Insight is inconvenient.

Mystery is resistance. Depth, nuance, restraint: these aren’t nostalgic ideals. They’re countercultural. The most compelling figures in fashion know that not everything needs to be revealed to matter. Sometimes, what’s withheld says more than what’s shown. As the New Yorker notes: “Influence works best when wielded obscurely, in the shadows and behind the scenes.”

What captivates. What endures. What inspires. It’s always been the unspoken. The informed. The intentional. Metrics won’t teach you that. Algorithms can’t replicate it. Curiosity, restraint, intellect — these still can.

“Metrics won’t teach you that. Algorithms can’t replicate it. Curiosity, restraint, intellect — these still can.”

The digital spotlight can illuminate. Or it can blind. Right now? It’s blinding. Constant. Shallow. Relentless. Real value — in fashion, in content, in life — lives beneath the surface.

Choose what to reveal.
Choose what to hide.
Choose depth.