Perception of branding trap
How do people remember more your personal brand than your identity.
I find it interesting how people perceive and categorize anything as part of a brand. Branding is more than just putting a swoosh logo on a sweatshirt, which increases its price by $50. Wearing a worn-out old running shirt with holes suddenly makes it a Satisfy shirt worth $150. Branding extends far beyond just a clean logo and minimalist aesthetic with an Instrument serif typeface. I think it now goes hand in hand with the quite luxury and status signaling. Is Hermes or Ferrari just about branding status, or is it just veblen good?
“If you don’t know what you want, you will be told what you want, and you will believe it.” - DAN KOE
I’ve always been drawn to how people assign meaning to things. How a logo, a tone, or a name can completely change what something feels like. How we see people wear certain things or have certain social media brands, and we suddenly judge the rest of their identity from a 3x3 grid. Where does this become genuine? We know how to curate our lives so that the branding feels safe and intriguing enough. We curate our lives to be more desirable by looking expensive as Veblen goods do.
I believe we are all trapped by this branding trap, not only by design. You put people into categories, but you only know a fraction of their story. Everyone you just met at the party gives you an outside package when they introduce themselves: “I am Spoony, I do design” - you instinctively think about the qualities that may come with being a designer - empathy, taste, social skills, problem-solving. But you only judge by that one sentence of their job title, not the entire story of how they got there or what lies behind that headline title they hold.
I have been caught in this for several years. I built an online presence as a successful photographer. Meanwhile, I was doing it as a side job to my 9-5 designer position, which gives me routine and a sense of building something long-term and that lasts. Yet, the “photographer” tag never left me. Because I never announced the “designer” tag. It still lives on my Instagram. It’s funny how people hold on to the story they first learned about you, even when you’ve already rewritten it several times.
Should I start introducing myself as a designer to shift perception? It’s not that simple. I’ve also co-founded a boba tea business that I proudly built with my wife, who is successfully running it. We built a business together that serves over 20,000 people annually for almost two years. The sheer number of people who pass through our brick-and-mortar store, which we designed and which is tangible, makes me very proud.
But not as proud as being part of my biggest project something that encompasses everything I’ve learned so far in life. It’s about being a father to my daughter. I’m applying everything I know — my photography skills, design knowledge, and business mindset to being a good parent. I’m learning to see beauty in the simplest things again. I listen to her feedback. I try to keep her challenged without nitpicking her actions.
So who am I really? “I am Spoony, a dad, a husband, I have a business with my wife, I design brands, websites, and apps, I also used to be a photographer, and now most of the time I do Thaibox”? Wait…Thaibox? That feels quite out of the box... After giving up photography, which was my passion, I needed to find a new hobby that I can’t monetize or measure by likes. I think it’s much healthier and more genuine when hobbies remain hobbies. Perhaps the goal is to constantly rebrand myself to stay challenged and keep evolving. There is no limit to my potential, and it's okay that I don’t cling to my past self.
A brand is consistent. A person is contradictory. A brand has a message. A person has moods. A brand exists to be consumed. A person exists to live. The problem is that social media rewards branding far more than it rewards humanity. Those messy, quiet, uncertain versions of ourselves do not perform well.
My life goal isn’t to brand myself but to stay true to the things I love doing. I love staying involved in many passions; I get a creative boost from the diversity of life. I still photograph, but not commissioned work, and I no longer share it. I still build apps and brands, but I keep that private. When you turn yourself into a brand, you niche yourself. The only thing I sometimes share is my family, because there’s no bigger part of me than them. The point isn’t to escape the labels at all. The older I get, the more I see that authenticity doesn't need to be announced to others. It’s quiet and private. The things that mean the most to me can’t be branded anyway.
When I became a father, everything I used to chase status, recognition and money - all of it just faded away. It’s what is called reaching a “fuck you family”—when your priorities flip, and you no longer need to prove anything to the world because you already have the only thing that matters. It opens a new perception where love and present moments, replace ambition and status, and life finally starts to feel real with family.
So what does success feel like to me now that I have become a father? Maybe it’s the privacy and the things I keep only for myself, without needing to prove to anyone that I am worth it.
True wealth isn’t found in attention or fame, but in the freedom to live privately, without labels or judgment.