Safe portfolios are packed with “flawless taste.” Sharp layouts, muted palettes, elegant grids. The kind of work that looks great on a Dribbble carousel but has the cultural impact of a damp napkin. It is safe. It is polite. It gets applause in design schools where professors hand out grades for alignment. But you know what it never does? It never fucking scars.

The most boring designers on Earth are the ones with the best taste. They design what they have been conditioned to admire. Minimalist decks. Geometric typography. Neutral tones. Work that earns polite nods from committees and immediate burial in the archives of “solid effort.” Taste is the enemy of originality, because taste is just memory dressed up as instinct.

The real ones do not chase taste. They chase tension. They make things that feel wrong before they feel right. They know discomfort is where the blood is. They trust the itch in their gut more than the Pinterest board. They break balance so they can create friction, and friction is what burns into people’s heads. That is the difference between looking good and being unforgettable.

Here is the Draper truth tucked under Mia’s knife: clients do not need you to have “good taste.” They need you to have conviction. They need you to take them somewhere that feels unstable, uncomfortable, alive. They need you to say, “this is going to feel wrong now, but it will haunt them later.” That is leadership. That is the opposite of taste.

So burn the altar. Kill the reflex. If your gut says “this feels off,” maybe that is the exact fucking place you need to go. Because the goal is not taste. The goal is tension. And tension is what makes design stick like shrapnel in memory.