Do I need to be branded?

Do I need a brand, to be me?

What is a brand anyway? It’s a logo. It’s a symbol. Sometimes, it’s a statement of value.

Nike. Adidas. Supreme. Patagonia. Jordan. Vineyard Vines. Canadian Goose. Chucks. Toms. Tesla. Timberland. North Face. Mountain Hardware. Burton. Birkenstock. Vans.

Do I need to wear a brand to have value?

Sometimes I think so.

Or at least it could help.

Maybe that group of people standing over there would include me if everything about me screamed “perfectly manicured and perfectly rich”.

But then I would be perfectly no one. Perfectly not me. Only perfectly trying to be liked by someone else.

Who cares.

The moment we feel we are less valuable because we don’t have that coat, or those shoes is the moment we have all been duped. Duped that we don’t have actual value. That our value comes from the clothes we wear.

Not from our smile.

Not from our humor.

Not from our loyalty.

Not from our intelligence.

Not from our friendliness.

Not from our good heart.

But that’s where we’ve been duped.

Because the real things that matter can’t be branded.

Branded like I’m owned by someone else.

Like the real value is theirs and I have to buy it to have a smidgen of dignity for myself.

But I am enough.

I don’t need a brand to be… me.