The following photo, captured on an iPhone by Mitchell Royel, is neither affiliated with nor endorsed by Banana Republic and does not represent an official statement from the brand. The image of Sam Dezz was taken in the Fashion District.
“So my phone lights up. It's Mitchell Royel.
He's sitting in a hotel room somewhere, right before he starts at Banana Republic. New chapter, new job, suitcase probably still half-packed. And instead of decompressing or ordering room service like a normal person, he's thinking about his magazine.
The Elixir by Royel.
He wants me in the Toy Soldier issue. The whole theme is first-world problems, the small, ridiculous, very real stuff we all wrestle with. The Wi-Fi drops. The oat milk runs out. The group chat leaves you on read. Stuff that feels huge in the moment and tiny when you zoom out.
I said yes. Of course I said yes.
But here's what I didn't expect. By the time I was actually covering that issue, the world outside had stopped feeling like a first-world-problems kind of world.
Let me set the scene for you.
COVID was in full effect. Masks, closed doors, empty streets, everybody six feet apart and a hundred miles away emotionally. You couldn't hug your friends. You couldn't sit in a restaurant. Half of us were scared and the other half were pretending not to be.
And then the Black Lives Matter protests hit. People were in the streets. People were angry, grieving, exhausted. Your feed was nothing but hurt and noise and hashtags.
Tensions weren't just high. They were everywhere. In your family. In your office. In your DMs.
And right in the middle of all that, I'm working on a magazine issue about first-world problems.
I'll be honest with you. That felt strange. Some days it felt wrong. Some days it felt like the most honest thing I could do, because it forced me to look straight at the gap between what I complain about and what other people are actually living through.
That's where this whole thing really started for me.
I'm going to talk directly to my guys for a second. Especially the white guys. Because I am one, and I watched a lot of us get this wrong.
Summer 2020, everybody posted a black square. Everybody had a statement. Every brand, every influencer, every dude who'd never said a word about race in his life suddenly had a caption ready to go.
And look, some of it was real. Some of it came from a real place.
But a lot of it didn't.
A lot of it was fear. Fear of being called out. Fear of looking like the guy who stayed quiet. Fear of losing followers, or clients, or a seat at the table. So people performed. They said the right words, hit "share," and went right back to living exactly the way they did before.
That's not allyship. That's a costume.
And people can tell. They always can.
Here's the test I started using on myself. It's simple, and it's uncomfortable.
Would I have done this anyway?
If nobody was watching. If it wasn't trending. If there was no movement, no hashtag, no pressure. Would I still show up this way?
If the answer is yes, great. Do it loud. Do it proud.
If the answer is no, then you need to sit with that. Because that means you're not acting on your values. You're acting on the climate. And climates change. Trends fade. The hashtag goes quiet. And the people who actually needed you are left wondering where you went.
Your gut knows the difference. Trust it.
Treat people right because that's who you are, not because it's a good look this month. Speak up when it costs you something, not only when it earns you something. Hire, mentor, listen, and show up in ways that would still make sense to you five years from now.
This goes for every sector. Fashion. Tech. Music. Media. Retail. Finance. Doesn't matter where you work.
Every industry had its moment where it had to decide what it stood for. And the ones who came out of it with real respect weren't the ones with the slickest statement. They were the ones whose actions lined up with what they'd already been doing.
Consistency is the whole thing.
That's what that Toy Soldier issue ended up teaching me. A toy soldier stands at attention because someone placed him there. He doesn't choose the pose. He doesn't choose the direction. He just holds whatever shape he was put in.
I don't want to be that. I don't want you to be that.
I want us to be people who stand where we stand because we chose it. Because it's in our gut. Because we'd be standing there whether the world was on fire or perfectly calm.
So Here's My Ask
Next time a movement takes over your feed, slow down.
Don't rush to post.
Don't rush to prove anything.
Ask yourself what you actually believe, and then act on it, quietly or loudly, but honestly.
Check your first-world problems.
Keep them in perspective.
Check your motives.
Keep them honest.
And when the noise dies down, still be the same person you said you were.
That's it.
That's the whole message.
Be real.
Stay real.
Even when nobody's clapping.”
-Sam Dezz