Outgrowing the Obvious
- Kim Chilton Griffith
- Jan 5
- 2 min read
I’ve always paid attention to what I don’t reach for first. Not the hotel everyone insists you have to stay in. Not the destination that suddenly becomes a rite of passage. Not the must-have accessory everyone agrees defines the season, or the coffee table book that appears in every living room at once. They’re often beautiful — just not where my curiosity naturally goes.
I’ve always preferred the long way around. The restaurant chosen for the food and the ambiance, not the scene. The shop you stumble upon rather than the one you bookmarked weeks ago. The place someone mentions in passing, almost as an aside, instead of the one that shows up on every list.
It isn’t about avoiding what’s widely embraced. It’s about paying attention to what feels considered. Over time, certain things become easy to recognize — the difference between choices made with intention and those made for visibility.
I’ve found that many people with a strong point of view arrive here the same way — not by rejecting what’s popular, but by noticing what genuinely resonates.
What tends to lose my interest isn’t quality, but predictability — when experiences start to feel interchangeable, when style becomes a formula, when recommendations feel less like insight and more like repetition.
I’m far more drawn to things that reveal themselves slowly. Hotels chosen for their design, their service, and the way quality is felt throughout — not just how they photograph. Homes designed to be layered over time, rather than styled to capture a single moment. Wardrobes built on signature pieces — items that make a statement, reflect personality, and are understood well enough to be worn with confidence, again and again.
The most interesting people I know aren’t chasing discovery — they’re quietly returning to what works. They know which streets to wander down, which places feel right for them, and when to keep a good thing to themselves.
This way of choosing has shaped how I shop, travel, and live. It’s why I trust conversation more than consensus, and experience more than reviews — why I’m less interested in the obvious answer and more curious about the one just beneath the surface.
If there’s anything worth carrying forward, it’s this: pay attention to what consistently draws you in — and just as importantly, to what doesn’t. That awareness alone tends to lead you exactly where you’re meant to go.
Often, the things most worth knowing aren’t the ones being broadcast — they’re the ones you discover because you were paying attention.
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