The 2025 Ins and Outs List I Needed to Make

More of a creative temp check than anything

Ah, the in/out list. You’ve probably seen two or three or 150 of them this week in your Instagram feed. I tend to avert my eyes when I come across one on my daily scroll because, while most of the time they’re totally harmless, my sensitive soul can’t help but take it personally when something I’m into ends up on the “out” list. (A consequence of being a child during the “hot or not” phase of the ‘90s, probably. According to the teen magazines, I was perpetually “out”.)

Me writing this on New Years Eve, Andy and Anderson on TV in the background. (Fran Lebowitz at the Vanity Fair Oscar Party, Jonathan Becker, 2000.)

But there is something to the format, you know? The in/out list is a helpful little way to take a temperature check what we’re no longer feeling and what we’re taking with us into the new year, especially if we think about it through the lens of our own personal interests and desires rather than through one informed by trends.

So, I’m compiling a non-prescriptive list of my own, one specifically focused on the creative aspects of my own life. You may disagree with me on something that’s on my “out” list and that’s okay—having your own opinion is “in”!!!

Things that were made by a human hand (and look like it.) This will be on every “in” list I make for the rest of my life.

Broad color palettes. I’m sick of brands that try to own one color… So boring.

Going to museums alone.

Hiring painters, illustrators, and other non-digital artists to contribute to my brand identity design projects.

Blind debossing in interesting ways.

Tintype in a custom embossed mat by Aziza K. Murray.

Murals, frescos, and mosaics.

Identifying people who inspire you and your work that don’t do what you do: architects, painters, quilters, floral designers, calligraphers, writers, furniture makers…

Collecting.

Crediting artists when sharing their work anywhere, every single time. (I’m so sorry, but “found on Pinterest” is totally pointless and doesn’t count! It helps no one, except maybe in some minuscule way, Pinterest itself.)

To that point, sharing an inspiration image to your stories directly from the artist’s account (versus the inspo account from which it was found.)

Embroidery, needlepoint, and broderie anglaise.

Da Polpo in London.

Vacation responders.

Continuously building a physical reference library and looking through it often. Books, menus, coasters, fabric swatches, receipts, bits of tissue paper, ribbon, magazines, postcards, maps, brochures…

Print.

Consistently supporting your friends’ work by sharing their projects, showing up to their events, and congratulating them on their wins, publicly and often.

Embracing cringe.

Tuning out unsolicited advice. (Including this list, if you want.)

'Raus mit der Kunst' exhibition at the Ferdinandeum in Innsbruck.

“Bright Equals,” AKA the people in your life that match your ambition and drive. (Thank you to Jordy’s therapist for that one.) Bright Equals motivate and inspire each other in equal measure; one person does not benefit from the relationship more than the other.

Block printing.

Telling people how much you like their writing/the art they make/the things they share on the Internet. We’re gassing each other up this year.

Being forthright with what you need when talking to a prospective client—a specific rate, certain terms, clear boundaries—and being ready to respectfully walk away if things don’t align. You’re assessing them as much as they’re assessing you.

Making things that don’t look like they belong to any one place or time.

Pop-up books.

Alexander Calder, Galerie Maeght sculpted holiday card, 1968.

Digging through all 297 pages of a digital archive.

Keeping some of your best ideas for yourself.

Being organized. Or at the very least, presenting as organized. We’re tracking our expenses (use Expensify,) showing up on time for meetings, and keeping our files in order in 2025.

Wrap gifts. Like, the gifts a cast and crew get when they finish making a film or TV show. I’m stealing this concept for my own projects.

Things that are folded, ripped, or worn down.

Used book stores > curated art book stores. (But all book stores are in, forever.)

Joana Avillez for The New York Review of Books, 2024.

Vague contracts that don’t specifically outline every stage of a project, payment schedules, and protocols in case of a nightmare scenario. (I hired a lawyer a few months ago to include solutions to every frustrating situation I’ve ever been in into my contracts and it’s been a game changer.)

Giving clients too many options.

“What font is that?”

Having an idea, then hemming and hawing about it for so long, other people beat you to it.

People Getting Ready to Do Things, Ed Ruscha, 1974.

Worrying about low engagement on social and what it means. Really, discussing engagement at all.

Competing with other designers and their career trajectories or client lists. Find your lane and keep your eyes ahead.

“I want to pick your brain”… for free.

Custom shipping boxes. (Branded shipping tape? Fine. A cute little print piece inside? Great. Something that’s, at best, just going to get reused to ship someone’s Poshmark order? Skip it.)

And actually, overdesigning things in general.

The Still Here Club Card, perfectly simple and not overdesigned.

Believing that the Pantone Color of the Year means anything.

Matisse-esque cut outs, for the time being.

Asking for too many people for their opinion. Go with your gut, but if you can’t get there, ask just one or two people whose perspectives you trust more than your own.

Focusing on the execution more than the concept.

Griping about paywalls.

Wanting a brand identity that looks “just like Flamingo Estate.” (I love Flamingo Estate! But like, let’s find you your own thing. Same goes for Ghia.)

Waiting for something to happen to you, rather than just going for it.

Cautiously Optimistic, Ashley Brown Durand, 2022.

Slogans, for the most part.

“What do you want to see more of on here?” Instant unfollow.

Being embarrassed to ask if someone would be up for collaborating.

Deriving some sort of conclusion when someone doesn’t respond to a cold email you sent them. People are busy, read things quickly between meetings, and just don’t always have an answer for you. It doesn’t mean they hate you.

Squiggly lines and scallops.

Being overly theme-y, unless it’s purposely camp.

The Circus: A Book to Begin On, John Alcorn, 1963.

Styling a table with half of a papaya or cantaloupe. (I’m sorry, this will always be out for me.)

Things (candles, for instance) shaped like food. (Being the person behind Pasta Girlfriend, I do see the irony.)

Photoshopping a product into the hands of a celebrity for an Instagram post.

Grandma florals.

Letting periods of slow business kill creative momentum.

Body, the Texture, Seung Ah Paik, 2008-2009.

And there you have it. Until next week!

x

Ali

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