The Minted Ethos

A worldview

Two roles that define how we move and create in today's world.

This past week, we had two photoshoots with two very different aesthetics, rooted in one worldview. On Tuesday, we shot the collection that marks our return to menswear. This was a long time coming and understandably got the team excited. It felt like viewing apparel through a new lens after spending the last year immersed in performance gear. Refreshing to step out of that world and into the softer side of menswear. Both shoots, as different as they were, came from the same place. Same intention. Same way of seeing things.

I view Minted as a philosophy… a way of living rooted in continuous improvement. Life is a work in progress, and progress itself is the point. But progress toward what? That’s where these archetypes come in.

Today's culture celebrates multidimensional lives and the intersection of creativity and discipline. You know these people, and chances are you are one. Building something during the day (or night), training for something in the evening (or morning), always working on a creative project that may grow into something lasting, or may remain a fleeting experiment.

Two archetypes: the Athlete and the Artist. Two roles that shape how we move and create in the modern world.

Athlete: Quiet repetitions —> a commitment to do the work, day after day, regardless of circumstance.

In training, you spend most days toiling under the pretense that you’re making progress. Months pass before any discernible uptick in fitness. Repetition after repetition, with no immediate gratification to hold onto. But you show up anyway.

There’s something about this that goes beyond fitness. It’s a way of thinking—stacking small things consistently until they eventually become something much bigger. Most days feel unremarkable. Most sessions feel like nothing. But you show up because you trust that it’s all adding up, even when you can’t see it.

Artist: Ideas into form —> transforming raw input into something that carries meaning.

Artists tend to live in uncertainty, and often the best work comes from that strange intersection of discipline and intuition, mixed with the act of showing up to create even without inspiration.

There is great nuance in what works and what doesn’t, why some things last and others fade. Sometimes the answer is simple; sometimes it’s more complex. But the answer is always intentional. A commitment to care when it would be easier not to. To trust in seemingly small, insignificant details. A willingness to make things that age well because you believe they’ll matter long after you’re done making them.

The runner who also paints. The climber who writes. The cyclist who makes music. They don’t treat these as separate hobbies, they see them as parts of the same thing. The same commitment to showing up. The same patience with process. The same willingness to fail and try again.

Training teaches you that most progress happens when you’re not looking for it. Art teaches you the same. Both require you to trust something you can’t see yet.

Maybe that’s why they go together. Both are about faith in repetition. Both are about getting comfortable with not knowing if what you’re doing today will matter tomorrow… but doing it anyway.

- Marcus