In a world of abundance, how do you curate and display taste?
For a long time, the goal of software was simply to be the "best tool"—the fastest, the most powerful, the most efficient. But today, "high quality" is a commodity. When every tool works well, users stop looking for the best specs and start looking for the best feeling.
Take AI: many developers I know choose Opus not because it beats the competition on a spreadsheet, but because of its "taste"—its specific tone and intuitive UX. This realization—that design and vibe are now the primary factors of distribution—is the foundation of my work as a developer, especially as I see the developer role expanding beyond code into product and design.
“—Try to be a generalist more than you have in the past... Some of the strongest engineers are hybrid—product engineers with really great design sense... The people who will be rewarded most won't just be AI-native—they'll be curious generalists who can think about the broader problem they're solving.
”Head of Claude Code: What happens after coding is solved | Boris ChernySee more →Boris Cherny - Head of Claude Code
It's more accessible than ever for agencies and companies to find people who can produce high-quality code. A developer with taste and design in mind will become standard for most companies—especially in e-commerce, where brands are design-led and storytelling-driven and use that to distribute their products and services.
As I'm working toward joining an agency in this space, I think it's never been more important to have taste combined with development. Because together with the brands you work with—using the brand's KPIs, values, principles, and storytelling, combining it with design and engineering—you produce a feeling for the brand that reflects to the customers.
My job isn't just to implement features. It's to translate brand identity into code. I see code as the last mile of a brand decision—the final expression of strategy, identity, and design. If a brand's storytelling centers around craftsmanship, the website should feel crafted. If it's about speed and performance, every interaction should feel instant.
So how do I practice taste? How do I incorporate it in my development when I'm planning and writing code?
I truly believe that taste is across categories and disciplines. It's not siloed to one area—it transfers across interior, fashion, software design, architecture. How something makes me feel in fashion, I can find in music or interior as well, just in different shapes.
So I surround myself with creative experiences—cultural events in music, film, and art. I try to consume taste by finding people whose taste is their main quality and experiencing their work. I look for patterns, how it makes me feel, if it reminds me of a trip, a location, a feeling, or a person.
The best thing I've done to practice my taste has been collecting and curating in my Are.na library where I organize by category. I scout eCommerce sites daily, especially via Browsing Mode and Awwwards. I save and curate components, animations, text, typography, visuals—whatever makes me feel something. Whatever makes me think, "This is different. The person who created this put thought into this and didn't just build it to function." I curate and structure my taste as a living library—things go in and things go out depending on how my taste develops.
Taste in Practice: Three Recent Additions
Some of my recent additions to my Are.na are three brands that made me stop and feel something—something other brands in their space couldn't.
Literary Sport
Running is in every city run club and every "athleisure" mood board. But Literary Sport ignores the typical performance-driven aesthetic. It feels less like a gear company and more like a fashion house that simply happens to make running clothes.
This caught my eye because running has become my identity—I'm the person chasing the 0.1% gains, obsessing over technical specs that shave seconds off a PR. Literary Sport lives on the opposite side of that coin. They've gone all in on an editorial lens, swapping race-day intensity for full outfit layouts that pair running shorts with chic heels, jewelry, or Havaianas. Designs for the espresso before the run or the commute to the office, rather than the finish line. A curated palette: neutral tones punctuated by playful red accents.
By leaning into specific locations, feelings, and wardrobes, they aren't selling a faster 5K—they're selling a lifestyle where sport and sophistication are indistinguishable.
Gentle Monster
Delivers what I believe is the best brand experience in e-commerce right now. Their editorials feel cinematic, almost theme park-level immersive. Buying from them feels like stepping into a larger world.
The company employs 6 designers for eyewear and 60 for store visuals. That ratio tells you everything about their priorities: the experience matters as much as the product.
They collaborate with FKA twigs × Gentle MonsterSee more →FKA twigs (co-directing campaign films), GENTLE MONSTER x TEKKEN 8See more →Jin from Tekken and GENTLE MONSTER x MUGLERSee more →Mugler. Each collaboration amplifies both the brand and the collaborator's identity.
Their stores mirror this approach—half gallery installation, half retail space. The digital flagship carries the same theatrical energy.
Visit their website and the product pages feel futuristic. Models wear the eyewear in thought-out outfits, hairstyles, colors—complete looks, not just "something you wear in the sun." The models amplify the vibe without overwhelming the product. White space and clean typography keep the eyewear in focus. The hero sections are intense, cinematic, quick-paced. The navigation stays simple, accessible.
This balance—roller coaster brand experience, calm product focus—shows restraint. Gentle Monster built an entire aesthetic ecosystem around eyewear without losing clarity.
Thames Carpets
Connects to something deeper for me. For as long as I can remember, our family has always had Persian rugs. My first step each morning and my last step each night land on one. It fills you with warmth and comfort, especially living in northern Sweden. Sitting on these rugs as a child, drinking tea with my family, I was always fascinated by the craftsmanship—the eye for detail, the color palettes, the unique style depending on where the rug originates.
Thames Carpets educates you about Persian rugs through authentic storytelling. Where they come from, how they're crafted, the artist behind the work, what story the rug tells through its looks and history. Sophie shares this via social media with the care of someone working at a museum. You're immediately captivated.
Their website reflects this: full-page product images, easily accessible details, an interactive about page, a refined color palette. The focus is heavily on the story. Each rug has a thorough description that gives you its history—half the product sometimes. Details showcase origin, year, measurements, condition.
The history, curation, and craftsmanship is the product. That's taste and quality combined.
From Curation to Creation
Collecting these references in my Are.na isn't just a hobby—it's research and development. Whenever I start a new project, I begin with the vibe, story, values, and principles. Who it's for, what feeling I want to invoke, what problem I'm solving.
I quickly start moodboarding using my Are.na library, then jump into Figma to sketch the project and translate my creativity and taste to the canvas. Finally, I step into my role as a developer to build the project, ensuring the technical implementation honors the original vision.
If we want to build things that truly connect and endure in an era of abundance, taste isn't just a luxury—it's the only differentiator left. It's the key to work that actually matters.
