Me and my grandma — Philly.The living room — grandma, me, and Josh.
So boom, I've been doing a bit of traveling here in the States. I can't call myself quite worldwide, Russy, interstate Russy, but I got a chance to go see my first best friend.
As y'all know I've been in New York doing a stint. Let's call it a residency in New York. I got to do so much, meet amazing people, and work on a project. I <3 NY, which I'll talk about in another post.
I was going to visit my first best friend, Joshua. He's somebody I've known for 20 years. It's crazy to think I'm 29 and have a friend for 20-plus years. I got to visit him and his girlfriend in DC. They took care of me and drove up to Philly.
I was supposed to go to Howard Homecoming weekend but I was exhausted. I ended up taking a bus and chilling with my boy Josh. We took a drive to Philly and went to our old middle school. In DC I got to kick it with his mom, Zena.
Ben's Chili Bowl — DC.DC streets, Capitol in the distance.
My friend Josh is actually Brazilian and moved to the States. He was adopted and moved to Philadelphia when he was 8 years old, him and his younger sister. He was raised by a woman in her late 60s, who's in her 80s now, but Zena, which means caretaker in Portuguese, raised him.
Out and about.
This is, again, one of my first best friends, Joshua De Souza. We formed a group and clicked up in 8th grade: me, him, and my boy Will Amari. I'm doxing the fuck out these niggas right now but you get what I'm saying.
Ben Franklin Bridge.
We formed the Click Golden Boys: to buy a mansion in Miami and live our life, with our future aspirations and dreams. I got to kick it with him and go back to where it all started in Philadelphia, experience places like Photo Lab. I went to a lot of places and saw my grandma. My uncle and his wife lead a nonprofit called Block by Block, where they do block cleanups, and I got to do that, which was amazing.
To Philly.Block by Block cleanup.PhotoLounge wall.6th St.
I'm excited to go back and work on some stuff but the East Coast is up special. I'm glad I'm back home. It's getting cold all over.
As I reset and figure out what the next chapter looks like, I wanted to show y'all. It's good to go back to your roots and it adds more perspective to how far you came when you're able to see the distance you've traveled. From my time growing up in Philadelphia to moving to Bastrop, Texas, when I was in eighth grade, it's crazy to think about how far I've come, traveled the world, and been to Asia, Europe, and almost Africa.
Interstate Russy.
So much has happened in the last few years that I'm super thankful for. It was cool to get back to my roots and get new perspective. I'm looking forward to going back, and I'm happy to share with you guys the photos I took.
Lost isn't a lack of direction, it's a lack of decision, and curiosity points to the one worth making.
Lost isn't a lack of direction, it's a lack of decision, and curiosity points to the one worth making.
The important thing I want to get across in this piece is an inspirational message for those who feel lost and not sure how to get out of that. I found myself in seasons of doubtfulness, anxiety, and depression. And usually it comes from crippling indecisiveness. Being overwhelmed with the pressures of life.
Ultimately digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole. But I realized there is hope. There is light at the end of the tunnel.
The Game of Life
I try to equate things into what I can make the most sense of. And I've always been a gamer. Growing up playing games like Ratchet and Clank, Jak and Daxter, Uncharted, whatever.
Life to me has always been one big game.
You have to level your character up. Gain skills. Earn points (money). Party up. Upgrade your skin. So that's why when I saw this quote, I said, yeah, this is something I gotta write about.
In Call of Duty, the act of prestiging is reaching all the levels and then ultimately starting back at level 0. All for a badge. A signal of honor. Some people prestige 6-7 times.
You play the game. Gain experience. Level up and start all over.
What a parallel to life. Sometimes you're gonna have to start back over. But don't get discouraged. If anything, it's a badge of honor and something to own.
It's Not Over Till It's Over
If you're looking for a reason to be sad and gloomy, there's no shortage of them. And just like trouble, if you go looking for it, it will find you.
What I'm encouraging you today is to be reminded: it's part of the game, and unavoidable. What you can do is choose how you react to the things around you.
Here's what I mean by indecisiveness. It's not that you don't know what to do. It's that you can see five things you could do, and you do none of them. It's not that you're sitting there to feel safe. It's that you have decision fatigue, and that's one of the worst places to be: overwhelmed with the amount of decisions to make. And you ultimately don't make a decision at all, which actually is still a decision.
And the wild part is, not choosing is still a choice. The game doesn't pause because you're thinking. It keeps going.
So the way out was never having the perfect plan. It was making a choice. Any choice. And believing in it long enough to see what it turns into.
That's the game. This is the foundation of faith. And here's the thing, the mind is a powerful tool. Your perception is reality. And ever so vital to you, and everyone around you.
Choose to see the best in life. Practice every day.
Chasing Curiosities
One of the simplest ways to get closer to your purpose is through your passions. I don't know exactly where I stumbled across this saying, but these three words have changed my life.
Chase your curiosities.
There's a reason you are attracted to that thing. And in the search and quest for knowledge, you will be surprised by what you find. The Bible says in Matthew 7:7-8:
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”
The universe and stars will start to align, and miracles will happen once you get clear on what it is you want and become curious around those things. Curiosity demands questions. And every question has an answer. The pursuit of that will bring you to places you never thought of.
For me, I've been a huge fan of going out to events, parties, experiences. These things bring me joy. And recently I started to look into why that is. Why do I love bringing people together? Going out to events by myself. Trekking out to experiences. Which brought me to meeting two individuals who explained to me what ethnography is.
Learning doesn't end when you leave the classroom. You have to be a lifelong student. For some reason, people don't understand that. They really believe learning ends once you're done with school. Imagine that.
You finish and graduate college, maybe even get a master's. You're 25-26. Go into a career, work there for however many years. Look up, 25 years passed. And you haven't truly studied anything or gone through the process of acquiring knowledge. What do you think that does to someone?
Ultimately, it's important to just start looking at the thing behind the thing. Start to question why you enjoy certain things. Pursue those passions and chase the curiosities. When you're chasing something, you won't stop until you get it. It's a dopamine rush. A thrill. And dang near an animalistic endeavor.
Chase your curiosities and follow the breadcrumbs. Go to events. Talk to people. Do research. Ask questions. And have a childlike curiosity. That's how you level up quickly.
—
This is the first drop of “What is Russ curious about?” Every piece is me following something I'm genuinely curious about: travel, events, design, civics, ethnography, all of it. If you want the next one in your inbox whenever I drop, subscribe.
Day 1 — 500 Words a Day: The Comeback Will Be Televised
Opening only — for now. The full post lives on Substack.
For 40 Acres, this next chapter is about locking in — spending real time becoming better communicators, builders, and leaders. The discipline starts with a simple but powerful practice: writing 500 words a day.
Writing is more than reflection — it's crystallization. It's how ideas turn into structure, and structure turns into movement. Every member shoul…
We're Building Something Big—And It Starts Right Here in Rotterdam
Not the tourist traps. Not the Instagram hotspots everyone already knows. But the real vibes—the underground art spaces, the family-run cafés that locals guard like secrets, the designers pushing boundaries, the entrepreneurs building something meaningful from their living rooms.
That's exactly what we're doing with PoV Rotterdam.
POV Rotterdam isn't just another travel resource. We're building a movement—a global community of tastemakers who understand that the best parts of any city live in the stories of the people who create its culture.
We've interviewed some of the dopest tastemakers across the city—from festival organizers and brand agencies to artists, DJs, barbers, and everything in between.
These aren't celebrity profiles. These are the people actually making Rotterdam what it is. And through their eyes, we're painting the most authentic picture of our city that's ever been created.
But here's where it gets exciting—Rotterdam is just the beginning.
We're dreaming big: 200-300 city guides across the world. A database of 1000+ tastemakers globally. Imagine having authentic, locally-curated insight into Tokyo's underground music scene, São Paulo's emerging design district, or Lagos's tech innovation hubs—all through the voices of the people actually living and creating there.
Every major city has its tastemakers. Every creative community has its unsung heroes. We want to find them all.
Rotterdam is the perfect starting point. This city has always been about rebuilding, reimagining, and refusing to accept the status quo. From our post-war architectural revolution to today's thriving creative scene, Rotterdam doesn't just adapt—it innovates.
We're a city of makers, builders, and cultural pioneers. If we can capture Rotterdam's authentic spirit and build a community of engaged local tastemakers here, we can do it anywhere.
This only works if you're part of it.
We're looking for Rotterdam's tastemakers—and that might be you. You don't need thousands of followers or a fancy title. You just need to be someone who's shaping this city's culture in your own way.
Are you:
A designer, artist, or creative pushing boundaries?
A business owner creating something meaningful?
Someone with deep knowledge of Rotterdam's cultural scene?
Passionate about this city's authentic experiences?
Here's how to get involved:
📝 Share Your Story: Know someone (or are someone) who embodies Rotterdam's creative spirit? We want to feature you.
🗺️ Contribute to the Guide: Help us uncover the hidden gems, the local favorites, the places that make Rotterdam special.
🤝 Spread the Word: Follow our journey, share our content, bring your friends to our events.
🌍 Think Global: Know tastemakers in other cities? We're building connections worldwide.
This isn't just about creating content. We're organizing launch parties, community events, and partnerships with local brands. We're producing physical magazines and postcards because some experiences deserve to be held in your hands.
Most importantly, we're building relationships. Between local creatives and their community. Between Rotterdam and the world. Between you and the people who make this city extraordinary.
Rotterdam's cultural scene has never been more vibrant. Our creative community has never been more connected. The world has never been more curious about authentic local experiences.
This is our moment to show the world what Rotterdam really is—and to build something that will connect creative communities across every corner of the globe.
Ready to help us capture the soul of Rotterdam—and eventually, the world?
Follow our journey. Share your story. Join the community.
Because the best vibes aren't found—they're created. Together.
A love letter to tastemakers—and a call to support those curating the future.
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about taste. Not in the “what's your favorite color” kind of way—but in the way Rick Rubin describes it:
“Everything we come into contact with has the potential to influence our taste. So the art of living well includes the art of feeding your input stream.”
That hit me.
Because taste isn't just preference—it's literacy. A way of reading the world.
It's not about being “right.” It's about being attuned. To rhythm. To proportion. To vibe.
I recently came across an article called Taste is the New Intelligence, and it perfectly summed up something I've been feeling for years. That taste is how we teach the world to treat our attention. Taste is how we organize what we let in—and what we don't. And for those of us with the gift (and burden) of good taste, we owe it to the world to protect and project it.
That's what I've been doing.
For the last few years, I've been on a journey to build a global collective of tastemakers—people who know what's cool before it's cool. The real architects of culture. The engineers of vibes.
From Ho Chi Minh to Lisbon, Paris to L.A., I've been collecting them like Pokémon—trying to learn, build, and document a network that I believe will define the future.
And yet, when I tell people what I'm working on, I always get the same question:
To be clear.
A tastemaker is someone who shapes what culture becomes. They're the folks behind the scenes—setting the tone, influencing the trends, moving things forward before the world catches on. They're not always the loudest, but they're always the most in tune.
It's time we start putting some respect on their name. Because tastemakers rule the world. And I'll die on that hill.
This is lifelong work for me. Not just building this global network, but eventually launching a publishing house to document these stories—magazines, newsletters, short films, and more. When we look back 50 years from now, it won't be the algorithms we remember. It'll be the humans who set the tone. The ones who curated the energy that shaped everything from design to discourse.
I'm deeply inspired by people like Joe Fresh Goods, Don C, Salehe Bembury—and of course, the ultimate tastemaker: Kanye West. The artistry. The vision. The influence across music, fashion, architecture—it's unmatched.
But here's the thing: this work is not cheap.
But here's the thing: this kind of work? It's not cheap. It takes time, travel, translation. It takes being on the ground, in the room, catching the story before it disappears. And like Picasso had the Medicis, I need my own community of patrons—the Vibe Medicis—people who believe in this mission and are ready to help fund the future of culture.
I'm currently raising $50,000 to launch the next phase of this movement: the publishing arm. If you've ever been moved by a vibe, inspired by a moment, or shaped by a tastemaker—this is your invitation to invest in what's next.
We're about to launch a Kickstarter campaign, and if this resonates with you, I encourage you to reach out directly. This is community-powered work. Global R&D of culture. I'm talking about traveling the world to document, archive, and uplift the tastemakers who shape the future—from Paris to Port of Spain, Johannesburg to Oakland.
It's like collecting Pokémon, but for the culture—tracking down these visionaries, weaving their stories, and making sure their names and contributions are never forgotten. Because behind every wave, every trend, every shift in the zeitgeist—there's a tastemaker. And their stories matter.
We're kicking things off next month in Rotterdam, working with the legendary Charlie Koolhaas to launch the first-ever edition of PoV: Vibes Don't Liemagazine—our opening salvo in this publishing journey. That campaign will help fuel this next chapter.
Be on the lookout for updates soon. In the meantime, consider this your early access invite. If you're a believer in culture, curation, and community—now's the time to tap in.
Let's fund the future of vibes.
PSA couple of things to let marinate and put you up on game…
Inside Paris Noir Exhibition: A Journey Through the Diasporic Imagination
I recently got a chance to check out the Paris Noir show here at the Centre Pompidou and wow. Truly something special. Paris has always carried an aura—romantic, rebellious, regal. But walking through the exhibition, I saw the city through an entirely new lens: one shaped by the Black imagination.
The exhibition traces the creative force of 150 Black artists—from Africa, the Americas, and the Caribbean—who shaped the cultural pulse of France from the 1950s to the 2000s. Most of these works had never been shown in France before.
It opens with Présence Africaine, the legendary bookstore and review founded by Alioune Diop in 1947, which became a nucleus for the Négritude movement. Think of it as more than a space—it was a frequency. Intellectuals, poets, painters, freedom fighters.
Learning about the Presence Africaine in itself was a rabbit hole for me. Diving into the life of Alioune Diop and the surrounding lore. Learning In 1951, the magazine commissioned a short documentary film, directed by Chris Marker and Alain Resnais, Les Statues mourir aussi. A denunciation of the misdeeds of colonization, the film was released in 1953 and won the Jean-Vigo Prize the same year, but was censored for around ten years.
One of the early names that struck me was Beauford Delaney. From the moment I walked in, his work stood out—I found myself drawn to it, returning to it again and again. It quickly became a favorite. There was something deeply spiritual about his use of color and form, something that felt like communion. I understand why he was James Baldwin's spiritual mentor. You can feel that connection in the work—a kind of quiet depth that pulls you inward.
My personal favorite was the Afro-Atlantic Surrealism section. I had never seen Wilfredo Lam's work up close. His painting Umbral blew me away. It carried this sacred energy—totemic, layered, political, and spiritual. His influence echoed through the work of others like Skunder Boghossian, an Ethiopian-Armenian painter who embodied pan-African futurism before we even had the language for it.
I was introduced to Luce Turnier—Haiti's first female painter—and I couldn't help but think about how many Black women artists have had their contributions buried. Her colors, her vision—it all felt necessary.
Ouattara Watts' Divination was another portal. I stood in front of it for a long time. There was something ancient and yet new in it. You could feel the echo of rituals, of questions that don't need answers but need to be asked.
The exhibition moved into the 1990s, when institutional support started drying up and Black artists began organizing on their own terms. Collectives rose. Squats like L'Hôpital Éphémère became creative sanctuaries where Reggae, Hip-Hop, graffiti, and fine art cross-pollinated.
Cultural workers like Raymond Saunders helped organize moments like the Palais du Luxembourg conference and Paris Connexions in San Francisco—proof that the Black cultural movement was global, connected, alive. Revue Noire, a magazine and gallery initiative, became a bridge linking Paris to the continent, curating voices and visions from across Africa and its diasporas.
Toward the end of the exhibition, I encountered the work of Henry Roy, whose book Black Looks left a deep impression on me. He photographed a cross-section of Afro-descendants from various walks of life: musicians, filmmakers, scientists, writers. The goal wasn't to create a unified narrative, but rather to showcase contrast, multiplicity, and complexity.
The book features 25 portraits, laid out like a checkerboard—alternating backgrounds in black, white, and grey. There's a rhythm to it, a deliberate cadence in how the images interact. Roy wasn't chasing aesthetic harmony; he was embracing dissonance, leaning into difference. Skin tones, expressions, postures—all varied. What connected these individuals was ancestry, not ideology.
Each portrait was paired with a simple yet loaded question: “What does it mean for you to be Black?” The responses ranged widely. Some answered with clarity and pride. Others pushed back entirely, saying, “For me, it doesn't mean anything.” That divergence—the refusal to force a singular narrative—is what makes the project so powerful. It doesn't flatten identity; it complicates it.
This exhibition reminded me that art is never just art. It's archive. It's witness. It's forecast.
Black Paris isn't a footnote in history—it's a root system
How Tastemakers, Culture, and Global Community Are Redefining Value
How Tastemakers, Culture, and Global Community Are Redefining Value
Over the last few years, I've been on a global journey — moving through cities across Europe, Asia, and the U.S. — connecting with artists, entrepreneurs, and community builders. And in every city, one pattern stands out: A tastemaker sees the future before it arrives — not because they guess, but because they feel. Their gift is intuition. Their power is influence.
As I write The Vibe Capitalist Manifesto, I want to lay the foundation for this concept that feels deeply personal, yet undeniably global: Vibe Capitalism.
What is Vibe Capitalism?
At its core, vibe capitalism is the belief that vibes are value. In a world ruled by attention, energy, and experience, those who can shape the mood — through culture, curation, and connection — hold a powerful kind of capital. It may not always be financial, but it's social, creative, and deeply influential.
This isn't new. It's just been overlooked.
In the early days of hip-hop, graffiti artists were creating visual languages long before marketing firms caught on. Breakers were performing on cardboard before brand stages existed. Streetwear founders like Joe Freshgoods and Don C didn't just sell clothes — they told stories that reshaped entire industries. Lyricist Lounge, co-founded by Ant Marshall, was more than a showcase — it was a cultural agency before the term even existed, launching artists and setting a precedent for what tastemaker-led platforms could do.
Before influencer marketing had a name, tastemakers were the first creative agencies. They designed the look, sound, and feel of what would later be commodified. They didn't wait for permission — they built brands from mixtapes, block parties, street corners, and sweat equity.
This is the heartbeat of vibe capitalism: Recognizing that the people who create the culture have always been the most undervalued, yet the most impactful.
Why Now?
We're in an era where cultural energy spreads faster than ever — across TikTok trends, IRL pop-ups, and digital ecosystems. But most systems still reward the platforms, not the people who give them flavor. That's where vibe capitalism steps in — as both a framework and a call to action. A reminder that attention is the new oil, and those who shape it are the real power players.
This is also where Proof of Vibes comes in —We've been building a community of global tastemakers — the DJs, designers, curators, and culture shapers who move the needle in their cities. Through a series of curated, real-world experiences — from underground raves in Paris to happy hours in Saigon — we've been capturing, documenting, and amplifying the energy they generate. These aren't just parties or panels. These are living case studies. Proof that vibes can be intentionally created, measured, and leveraged — not just for attention, but for impact.
What's Next?
The Vibe Capitalist Manifesto will explore this idea in full:
How tastemakers leverage social capital
Why community and creativity are core assets
How global connection is the new infrastructure
And what it looks like to build systems that value cultural labor
The ins and outs of building intentional experiences
But before we get there, this intro is your invitation:
To think differently about wealth, to recognize the unseen hands shaping our world, and to celebrate the people who've always known that energy is everything.
This is for the graf writers, the DJs, the curators, the streetwear legends, the founders, and the future.
A Country Wide Block Party Like You've Never Seen Before.
Inside the Greatest Party on Earth
I've never experienced anything like it. In all my 27 years, nothing has compared to the joy, chaos, and pure electricity of Fête de la Musique. I'm convinced it deserves a spot among the world's wonders — right next to the Pyramids and the Grand Canyon. Because what I saw, felt, and danced through? It was diabolically amazing.
Let me put yall on real quick.
Fête de la Musique — also known as World Music Day — started in France in 1982. It was launched by the French Ministry of Culture to make music accessible to everyone, everywhere. The idea? One day where musicians — amateur and professional — fill the streets, parks, cafés, and public squares with sound. No tickets. No barriers. Just music.
Since then, it's grown into a global phenomenon, celebrated in over 120 countries. But Paris? Paris is still the heart of it all.
Every June 21st, on the summer solstice, the city transforms. The usual rules don't apply. You'll find jazz quartets on street corners, techno DJs in courtyards, rock bands on rooftops, and choirs echoing through the metro. It's organized chaos — and it's beautiful.
So boom — I wake up late. I'd been out the night before with my boy Roleegan, a French rapper I'm staying with. It's the afternoon by the time we actually start moving. We hop on a bus heading into the city and I kid you not — there's a DJ on the bus. Like, full turntables. Music pumping. Grandmas two-stepping in the back. That's when I knew: This day was going to be different.
When we got off the bus, we were hit with it immediately: sound everywhere. Every corner had a speaker. Every restaurant had a DJ. Every café had a dance floor out front. The streets were overflowing with people — dancing, laughing, vibing.
Every arrondissement was activated. Parks were packed. Speakers blasted from balconies. Entire blocks felt like curated stages. It wasn't just music — it was expression. A kind of free, open love that you could feel pulsing in the air.
This wasn't just a Parisian thing. It felt like the world had pulled up.
I met Black folks from Ireland — something I didn't even know existed. There were Londoners everywhere (maybe that TikTok trend had something to do with it). And people weren't just in town for Fashion Week — they had flown in just for Fête de la Musique.
And Paris showed out. Artists like Freddie Gibbs, Pusha T, and The Clipse performed all preformed. Byron Messia was in the mix as well. DJs from across the globe turned cafés into nightclubs and restaurants into full-blown raves.
Honestly? It was like if Carnival met South by Southwest, sprinkled with a little Coachella energy — but with no gatekeeping. The whole city was free and open. Sun up to sun down, everyone was moving. No velvet ropes, no overpriced tickets — just vibes, pure and uninterrupted.
It felt like what a city should be: alive, loving, loud.
Trust me, you want to go. But go with a game plan. Here's what I learned the hard way:
Stay charged. Bring a portable charger (fully charged) and a cord. You'll need it.
Stay cool. It's hot. Bring a fan, water, and dress light.
Carry cash. Not everywhere takes card, and you'll want street snacks and drinks.
Stay safe. Consent is sexy. Party with respect. Look out for your people.
Plan ahead. Scout out your top venues and DJs the day before. Some places had long lines — get there early or know someone.
Be fluid. Plans are great, but following the vibe is better. If you meet someone cool or hear something popping around the corner, follow it.
Fête de la Musique isn't just an event — it's an experience. Nothing like I've ever been to. A global block party that turns an entire city into one huge dancefloor. It's the spirit of music, culture, and connection, alive and glowing in the heart of Paris.
If you take one thing from this: Pull up in 2026. Please, for the love of vibes. Be there.
My thoughts on the most important conference for entrepreneurs, marketers, content creators and creatives to attend.
So Boom, How I Ended Up in Cannes
It all started with a conversation with my friend Gary, aka “The Chairman.” We were talking about building a community of tastemakers and how becoming a trusted voice in that space is critical—especially if I'm going to write The Vibe Capitalist Manifesto.
That conversation led to a question: Where do the world's most influential tastemakers gather? I remembered my friend Cat posting she was heading to Cannes. And around the same time I had got a email from Culture House that they were doing something that @ Cannes Lion. I got curious and started to do a bit of digging and quickly realized that Cannes Lions—the International Festival of Creativity—was the place to be.
Saturday, I actually see Cat. Sunday, I chop it up with the Chairman. Monday, I bought my ticket. Tuesday, I landed in the south of France. What followed was one of the most impactful weeks of my creative and professional life.
What Even Is Cannes Lions?
Cannes Lions is often called “the Oscars of advertising”—but that barely scratches the surface. Originally a marketing and advertising conference, it has evolved into a magnet for the world's top minds across entertainment, media, tech, and finance. It's where deals are made, trends are born, and the future of culture gets sketched out between panels, beach activations, and afterparties.
You'll find everyone from CMOs of billion-dollar brands to Grammy-winning artists, startup founders, and film directors, all mingling in one place. It's South by Southwest meets Davos—with rosé, yachts, and a little more SPF.
No Badge? No Problem (But Get One Anyway)
When I went this year, I didn't have a badge. And to be honest, you can still get into a lot—just like SXSW, the side events and brand activations alone are worth the trip. I found myself bouncing between Amazon Beach, TikTok's after-hours party, and underground events that were more impactful than any panel.
But next year? I'm getting the badge. Why? Because having full access unlocks the real conversations happening on the main stages and inside private lounges. You want to be where the strategy gets shared and the deals begin.
The People Make It Worth It
Cannes isn't just about being seen. It's about who you see and what those interactions lead to. I had late-night convos with creators, marketers, VCs, and cultural leaders—people who shape the direction of industries. I dapped up Russell Westbrook (in his own brand's clothes), talked shop with Carmelo Anthony, and danced at BET's TikTok party like I belonged there (because I did).
This isn't networking. It's building with people who actually move culture. If you're in the business of influence, storytelling, or innovation—you need to be there.
Resources to Help You Get There
If you're Black, Brown, or Indigenous and thinking, “That all sounds great, but how am I going to afford it?”—don't trip. There are organizations and initiatives helping BIPOC creatives, strategists, and storytellers get to global stages like Cannes Lions:
CCDC (Creative Collective for Diverse Creators) – Offers travel stipends, mentorship, and access to events like Cannes.
Creative Futures – Focused on helping underrepresented creatives gain access to global opportunities through grants, travel support, and placement.
Laison Foundation – Supports Black creators and thinkers with funding for international exposure and cultural exchange.
Cannes Creator Collective – A growing community and fund specifically for BIPOC creatives looking to attend Cannes Lions and participate in the global conversation.
Start applying early, talk to your network, and don't be afraid to ask for support. You belong in those rooms.
Why You Can't Miss 2026
Cannes Lions is more than just a conference. It's a once-a-year convergence of ideas, influence, and opportunity.
Here's why 2026 should be locked in on your calendar:
You'll meet the people who make decisions that ripple across the globe.
You'll be inspired by creatives, founders, and visionaries who challenge how you think.
You'll build relationships that will serve your work—and your purpose—for years.
If you want to be part of the next wave of tastemakers shaping the future of culture and economies, start budgeting for Cannes now. I promise you: it's worth every euro.
