Nicheless

I sometimes wish I was less curious about everything. By which I mean I wish I was more curious about just one thing, maybe two, to the detriment (or is it?) of all the rest.

We hear so much about the importance of having a niche these days—how very bad it is to be a “jack of all trades, master of none.” To be really good at something, the many (so many) thought leaders tell us, you have to be willing to shut everything else out, to log off, unsubscribe, pause all notifications (and preferably texts, phone calls, IRL plans, too). 

I’ve tried at times in my career to be niche and had some success with it—covering the beauty business early when there were only about 3 other reputable reporters doing it, picking the wellness industry apart just before that became a prerequisite for writing anything about wellness on the internet, trying to revive fashion criticism at a publication more concerned with Kendall Jenner’s daily outfits, working in fashion itself (amazing to think that was ever niche). 

But most of the time forcing a niche felt…forced. I hated having to focus only on one thing, and how it shaped my off hours…narrowed their lens. I hated small worlds, where everybody knew everybody and recycled the same thoughts, lifestyle choices, outfits. In their differentiation, they become a melting pot of likeness—so boring and suburban, the greatest nightmare. 

The best thing I’ve done over the past two years is return to my real (wide-ranging) interests, despite their lack of career benefit or associated clout. I’ve realized quite clearly that I’m a generalist whose biggest throughline is an endless appetite for information, a simple desire to know (and so understand) more. I’m at my best when my daily consumption is a bit chaotic, ricocheting between a medical journal and a Bravo Reddit thread, a Huberman episode and a Substack about tarot, reporting on the Israel-Hamas war and a Twitter thread of questionable advice.

Despite the pull of a niche—a nosedive into something truly narrow—I love living in these weird, indefinable spaces that have nothing to do with how I might be perceived or how they might help package me better for an audience, an employer. It’s freeing to engage with so many different corners of the world and not have to show anything for it, to simply indulge myself in learning or trying to learn, and then continue on, to whatever pulls me in next. To revoke expertise in an era of optimization, and settle instead for simple enjoyment.