More than a magazine: How Monocle shaped my creative lens and continues to inspire me
There are publications you read, and then there are publications you live with. For me, Monocle has always been the latter.
From the moment it first hit the shelves in 2007, I was hooked. This wasn’t just another design magazine, it was an entire worldview. A tactile, beautifully curated lens on business, culture, urbanism, and aesthetics. I didn’t just read it. I carried it. I still do.
Whether I'm on a train heading north, flying long-haul, lounging poolside in the sun, or tucked into a corner of a city coffee shop with a flat white, Monocle is with me. Its matte pages, quiet confidence, and global sensibility have become my travel companion, my recharge button, and my design mentor all in one.
And it doesn’t stop at print. Monocle Radio is my go-to background soundtrack while designing, thinking, or simply trying to stay connected to a broader world view. Whether it's “The Entrepreneurs,” “The Urbanist,” or the perfectly curated dispatches from their editorial team, the tone and depth of conversation never fail to inspire. It feels like an ongoing dialogue with people who are genuinely curious about the world and its makers.
What sets Monocle apart isn't just its typography or its photography, though both are consistently best-in-class. It's the editorial tone: informed, international, measured. Monocle respects its reader's intelligence. It doesn’t shout. It observes. It curates. It assumes that the reader has taste, but also wants to be challenged.
As someone working in UX and design leadership, I constantly seek out influences that combine sophistication with substance. Monocle is that influence. It reminds me that good design isn’t just about interfaces, it's about environments, behaviours, systems, and stories. It understands that design is culture, and culture is design.
And while I consume a lot of digital media, Monocle remains my analogue anchor. It slows me down in the best possible way. Reading an issue cover to cover is like stepping into a well-designed space: intentional, intelligent, and incredibly calming.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t dream of being featured in its pages one day. To be profiled not just for the work I do, but for how I think and what I value, that would be a career moment. Because Monocle doesn’t feature hype; it features depth.
So this article is simply a thank you. To the editors, the writers, the photographers, the radio hosts, the curators, and the designers who make Monocle what it is. You’ve shaped more than just a magazine. You’ve shaped perspectives. Including mine.
So here’s to Monocle, for setting the bar in editorial culture, for inspiring better design thinking, and for reminding us that good taste is timeless, borderless, and always evolving.
Wherever I go, you’re with me, on the page, in my headphones, and in the way I see the world.
Check them out at monocle.com
