Hey friend,
Welcome to the Human Race.
Here’s your standard-issue iPhone. Or Android, if you’re the kind who jailbreaks things just to feel something different.
Here’s your starter Instagram account—custom built to keep you scrolling, ad clicking and somehow both overexposed and invisible. Incredible engineering over there in the Bay Area, really.
Now the fun part.
Pick your uniform: fitted jeans made in seven countries, joggers (whatever those are), or the sacred vestments of athleisure. Color palette: grayscale. Emotional feeling: spiritually lifeless.
Congrats. You’re officially indistinguishable.
We are living in a global Black Mirror episode. Same slogans. Same playlists. Same outfits. Same “new drops.” Same bios filled with 🫶 and "facts" and "LFG."
There's a special place in the bowels of Guantanamo Bay for the guy who invented using the word "facts" in replacement of real language.
It’s like the world was issued a template and we all clicked “Apply to All.”
I’m not mad at sameness. Average has its place.
The world needs average businesses for average people with average taste and average goals. It’s just… I don’t want to be one of them.
I want small, slow, soulful.
I want meaning, not marketing jargon.
I want style that says Alexander Dolly —without shouting.
I want to build—and help others build—a life and brand with actual soul.
Let me tell you why.
I. THE CRISIS IS INVISIBILITY
"I’ve so often. I've so often shared the days glittering discovery ... with no one at all." (My favorite scene in the French Dispatch)
I've too shared
A Manhattan in a quiet Buenos Aires speakeasy. A storm rolling over Miami. A perfect sunset overlooking the Pacific.
No likes. No uploads. No dings. Just me. Alone.
I travel alone. Eat alone. Build alone. I collect solitudes the way others collect Seiko watches. And while I’ve made peace with the quiet, sometimes it aches.
You start to crave people who see the world as you do.
People who notice the same weird angles. Feel the same textures of life. People who aren’t zombied by hustle and hype.
Last year in Winston-Salem, I met this college student—classic Ralph Lauren preppy, Mint Julep in hand, paisley bowtie tied like he meant ivy league business. He meant something specific to people like him. He told me he bought a one-way ticket to Munich.
“My people are in Munich,” he said.
And I got it.
"Go where your people are," I said. I'm not just saying that. I really did get it. I understand the need to find your kind.
II. BRANDS ARE THE NEW PEOPLE
We don’t always find our people in real life.
So we look for them in brands. A belief, ideology or way of interpreting the world —some brands signal, “Hey, I see you.” That’s what the best brands do. They create belonging. And not in the corny way. In the real way.
I don't despise Carbon Copyism, Big, Boring, Common, Traditional, Fast, Conventional, Uniform, Ubiquitous, Repetition, Non Creative, Soulless. YIKES! That's quite a list. If those qualities were guests at a dinner party, the conversation would be terrible, but everyone would arrive on time.
These qualities have a place within the law of average.
Average people. Average service providers. Average businesses. Average consumers. Average stuff. The universe tends toward average.
I just rep Small, Slow, Unique, Irreverence, Personality, Creativity, Soul. I appreciate better than average. Much better.
I wonder? What would the world look like with a billion above average small brands? Each one built by a creative living an interesting, quasi-unique life, crafting a business that reflects their worldview, their quirks, and - listen closely now - their soul?
I once met a South African man who made custom bracelets by binding marble-like heavy beads, with waxed string. The weaving and knot making was exquisite.
Mine is very handsome. Blue tiger eye. Not many people bought. He didn't care. He was building for meaning, not money. The man was poor, poor, poor but happy. As was I. [Sorry, Daydreaming]
Like I was saying... These creatives wouldn't be building for venture capitalists or hyper-quick-growth. These creatives would build for meaning. For community. For belonging.
They'd build lifestyle brands for the few, not the masses. Brands that whisper, "You see the world the way we do." Whispering brands. What a harrowing concept. Most brands scream until you want to stuff Air Pods over your ears.
Imagine: 1 billion lifestyle brands. 1 billion micro-communities. Pockets of people just like you and I. It sounds exhausting. It sounds beautiful. It sounds like chaos. It sounds like freedom.
Would that eliminate the sea of sameness? Who knows. But that's a world I'd like to live in.
Who
What
When
Why
This manifesto is about the why. And, yes it's ok to ask this man why.
I. THE CRISIS: WE’RE BUILDING ALONE
"I’ve so often shared the day’s glittering discoveries with no one at all."
— The French Dispatch
It’s the punches you don’t see coming that knock you down.
That line? That scene? What a wallop? Words can do that. Knock you flat.
Blaak Museum exists because of loneliness. I know a thing or two about loneliness.
I’m lonely. I travel alone. Build alone. Work alone. Eat alone. Some people collect Seiko watches. I collect solitudes. Yeah!
I enjoy my solitude—until I don’t.
Still, I long for a community of people who see the world the way I do. People creative as me. Think like me. Feel like me. People who care deeply about the texture of life. Texture of life. That's a nice phase. I didn't invent it. Harold Finch on Person of Interest did. Best character on TV ever. Behind Raymond Reddington of course.
A year ago, at a watering hole in Winston-Salem, I watched a guy—average height, draped in Ralph Lauren prep, bow tie included—sitting alone with a cocktail as complex as Greek algebra. I struck up a chat with Bow Tie Man. Turns out, he’d just booked a one-way ticket to Munich.
He said, “My people are in Munich.”
I got it.
“Go where you find community,” I suggested, unsolicited. Advice is always unsolicited. That's what makes it advice.
II. BELONGING IS THE REAL PRODUCT
We need community.
We need belonging.
We need to feel normal.
Sometimes, we don’t find our people in real life.
So we search for them in brands.
The brands we wear, follow, and love are often silent signals that say: Hey, I see you.
I don’t usually wear clothes with words on them—unless it’s a Formula One kit dripping in irrelevant sponsors.
But I deeply respect the brand Dad Gang.
They didn’t just build a lifestyle brand. They built a world. They populated it with people like them. Not my people—but still, chapeau.
You’ve seen it: proud poppas from Jersey City to Seattle quietly signaling to one another with a cap or tee—You’re a good dad too? You read bedtime stories and make waffles on Saturdays? Nice, bro. Respect. ✊🏾
In Buenos Aires, entire neighborhoods shut down during Boca Juniors matches.
In Barcelona, friends pass around a porrón—straight from the spout, into your face - Anthony Bourdain.
In Paris, moms eat lunch with moms.
In Istanbul, tea sellers waltz through bazaars, delivering silver trays stacked with glasses to their vendor friends—not a single drop spilled.
The world has community.
The States? Not so much. We belong to our subscriptions.
We seek out community in subreddits, Slack groups, Twitter /X comments and—more than anything—in brands.
We look for ourselves in the stories brands tell.
III. MEANING IS YOUR MOAT
Let’s be honest:
We don’t have a sneaker shortage.
Or a protein powder shortage.
Or a watch shortage.
What we do have is a shortage of meaningful.
A shortage of work that makes us feel.
We don’t have a shortage of creatives building for exit.
We have a shortage of creatives building for soul.
The algorithm wants creative work that’s predictable.
Hustle culture wants you tired.
So we pollute the internet with more noise, more sameness, and zilch soul.
But soul is the only thing that cuts through.
`Neri Oxman once said that design is a solution to escape crisis.
I believe that.
I believe we can solve for lonely.
I believe design, story, and soul can stitch people back together.
Small brands won’t survive by shouting louder.
They’ll survive by meaning more.
Meaning builds community.
Community builds loyalty.
And loyalty builds resilience.
Meaning is your moat.
It’s what makes your brand unforgettable.
And in a sea of sameness, it’s the only thing that can’t be copied.
IV. CHASE WONDER. MAKE SOUL
A design principle.
A business philosophy.
A way of life.
Chase Wonder means living with curiosity and empathy.
It’s flâneur energy: casually observing, deeply present, always learning.
It’s moving through the world open and inquisitive, exploring identity, ritual, and narrative.
You feel, you listen, you participate—then you make.
Make Soul means building something that invites others to belong.
It’s not just branding—it’s world-building.
It’s creating spaces, products, and experiences that whisper to people, “You belong here.”
At Blaak Museum, I build brands for participation.
I build brands for connection.
I build brands with soul—
So my clients can lead with it.
Because when creatives lead with soul, they don’t just sell.
They connect.
They inspire.
They make change.
Change that lasts.
Never ask a man why.
Unless he's building with soul.
Then ask him everything.
` I confess, I was giddy-in-the-making watching Neri's Ted Talk, but she's a married woman, so I didn't stare too hard. I'm mesmerized by her essence and grace. What makes me wonder, can a man exhibit similar otherworldly essence?