How to Develop Your Own Taste in a World That Tells You What to Want

This essay was originally written by the author in Japanese and translated into English with AI assistance.

How Much of What We Want Is Actually Ours?

Every time we scroll through social media, we’re presented with another version of the ideal life.

And honestly, a lot of it looks genuinely appealing, doesn’t it? Something we never thought we wanted can suddenly feel essential after seeing it again and again.

How much of what we want is actually ours?

I don’t think the answer is to stop looking at beautiful things. We should keep looking, but perhaps learn to look differently.

Social media has given us access to worlds we might never have encountered otherwise. That’s something worth appreciating. The problem isn’t being exposed to beautiful things. It’s unconsciously adopting someone else’s idea of an ideal life as our own.

And that’s why I believe developing our own taste matters. It gives us a way to appreciate what we see without automatically wanting it for ourselves.

Taste ≠ Socially Approved Good Taste

When I talk about taste, I don’t mean the ability to recognize and choose things that society considers sophisticated or refined.

Of course, being able to buy beautiful, high-quality things without worrying about the price sounds wonderful. So does having a collection of them, assuming you have enough space to keep everything!

Having access to such things may certainly help develop your eye. But owning them isn’t a requirement for developing your own taste.

Developing your own taste isn’t about learning what you’re supposed to like. It’s about understanding what you like and why, with increasing precision.

So how can we cultivate that ability? Here are five approaches I’ve found useful through my own experiences.

How to Develop Your Own Taste

Ask Yourself Why

When you find yourself drawn to something, ask yourself what exactly appeals to you.

Is it the color? The shape? The material, the craftsmanship, or the brand’s history? Or perhaps it’s because owning it would make others see you as someone important?

The more you examine your reasons, the more you’ll discover not only what you like, but also what you value.

And don’t stop at admiring something on its own. Compare it with similar things. The more differences you notice, the more precisely you’ll understand what draws you to it.

When I first started learning how to wear kimono, almost every kimono I saw seemed irresistible. Pieces by celebrated master artisans were especially tempting.

But I couldn’t buy everything I wanted. As I looked more closely and compared different pieces, I began to recognize certain patterns in my preferences. I found myself drawn to traditional motifs, delicate patterns, subtle variations in color, and the intricate craftsmanship of the fabric itself, rather than simply elaborate decoration.

Eventually, I became confident enough in my own preferences to turn down even beautiful, expertly made pieces that simply weren’t to my taste.

Look Beyond What You Already Know

You cannot develop a taste for what you have never encountered.

Developing your taste requires more than introspection. You also need exposure to things outside your familiar world.

Visit museums. Explore shops you wouldn’t normally enter. Look closely at things made by skilled craftspeople, and touch them if you can. Step inside buildings rather than just admiring their photographs. Listen to music you’ve never considered before.

None of this has to be expensive. The point is to broaden your experience, not simply surround yourself with luxury.

It’s worth learning why something is highly regarded, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it.

Perhaps you’ll think, “I knew I’d love this!” Or perhaps, “Hmm, I expected to like it more.”

Either reaction is valuable. Each new experience gives you another point of reference, helping you understand your own taste a little better.

Learn How Things Are Made

Learn about how the things you’re drawn to are made: the techniques, the craftsmanship, and the ideas behind them. You’ll begin to notice details you couldn’t see before. Understanding the process can also help you recognize which of those details matter most to you.

Of course, there’s a downside: the more you learn, the more special those things become, and the more you want them. At least, that’s often what happens to me!

Knowing more doesn’t necessarily mean wanting less. It means becoming more discerning about what you want.

There’s also a reason to stay humble. Being able to recognize exceptional craftsmanship doesn’t mean you possess the skill to create it yourself.

As you learn more, you begin to appreciate the years of practice, skill, and dedication behind exceptional work. Understanding how much it takes to create something remarkable should deepen your respect for those who make it.

Developing your taste should make you more humble, not give you a sense of superiority.

Separate Price, Quality, and Personal Preference

You can look at something that costs $10 and think, “I love this,” while looking at something that costs $10,000 and thinking, “This does nothing for me.”

There’s no contradiction. Price, quality, and personal preference are three different things.

Something can be beautifully made without appealing to you, while something quite ordinary can bring you immense pleasure.

Even exceptional craftsmanship doesn’t always move you. You might appreciate a painting by a great master without feeling particularly moved by it, yet find yourself captivated by the polished edge of a tiny component inside a mechanical watch.

Instead of asking whether something is considered valuable, ask yourself: What do I value about it?

The more things you see and experience for yourself, the more you develop your own standards of judgment.

You can still appreciate quality and take other people’s opinions into account. But you no longer need to let price tags or social approval dictate what you like.

Let Yourself Like Things That Don’t Match

Developing your taste doesn’t mean forcing yourself into a single, consistent aesthetic.

Take my desk, for example.

There are a few mechanical watches from my collection, a wooden tray holding my favorite fountain pen and ballpoint pen, notebooks wrapped in custom-made leather covers, and a painting I managed to buy from an artist abroad after struggling through a conversation in my clumsy English.

And then there’s a brightly colored Tamagotchi. Next to it sits a little anime figurine, hugging its knees and crying its eyes out with a wonderfully pathetic expression.

Photographed separately, these things might appeal to entirely different audiences. Together, they hardly make for a perfectly curated, Instagram-worthy desk.

But I chose every single one of them because I loved it. And I couldn’t be happier with the result.

Your taste doesn’t have to be consistent to be genuinely yours.

What matters is knowing what speaks to you, even when those things seem completely mismatched to everyone else.

Taste Gives You an Anchor

“I love this.”

But why? What exactly draws you to it? And what makes it different from something similar?

Keep asking. Keep noticing your own reactions. Gradually, you’ll develop a clearer understanding of what truly appeals to you.

And as you do, you’ll become a little less influenced by trends, price tags, and other people’s opinions.

When a new version of beauty appears in your feed every day, your own taste can become the anchor that keeps you from being swept along by every passing current.

—

This post was previously published on medium.com.