I have a talent I'm pretty sure I was born with: I can find something I “need” in practically any place in the world. New York, a tiny village in Italy, or Reynosa, Tamaulipas. Oh yes. I will find something. It's a gift.

I've always loved discovering things. Walking into a shop, looking, touching, trying, comparing, and finding the thing nobody was looking for but that, the second you see it, makes you think: how did I not know this existed?

But over the years something funny has happened: I love beautiful things more and more, and I need to buy less and less. Not because I've become a minimalist. Please. I don't think I ever managed to be a minimalist. I just understood that not everything I like has to come live with me.

Uncomfortable things, because they look amazing

A shoe that destroys my foot. A dress I can't breathe in. Pants that have me counting the hours until I can take them off. Not anymore. I want to look incredible, but I also want to walk, sit down and order dessert. Especially order dessert.

Things just for the label

Now I try to ask myself one very simple question: But do I actually like it? There's an astonishing number of things we want because someone convinced us we should want them. And spending a fortune on something you don't even love isn't luxury. It's falling for it.

Another white shirt

This is where everything above loses all credibility. I have a serious white-shirt obsession. I know perfectly well I already have one. Well, several. Well… a lot. But this one is different. The collar is different. The fabric falls differently. The white is a different white. I'm not going to argue about it.

And exactly the same thing happens to me with earrings and necklaces. I know I probably don't need another pair of earrings or another necklace. But then one shows

up and I think: this one is completely different. It isn't. But I'm not going to argue about that either.

Things for a woman I'm not

For years I bought for an imaginary woman. The one who was going to have the perfect occasion to wear that dress. The one who would need that thing someday. The one whose life was slightly different from mine. That woman has an incredible closet. Too bad she doesn't exist. Now I try to buy for the life I actually have.

Things to make me feel better

Sometimes we think we need to buy something when what we really need is to sleep, see a friend, take a walk, travel, eat something delicious or simply have a peaceful day. Buying something can give you five minutes of excitement. But it doesn't necessarily give you what you were looking for.

I don't like things less. I like them better.

I want fewer things that are just “fine” and more things that are truly worth it. And that's exactly where The Ėditure comes from. From that gift I know I've always had: searching endlessly, discovering, comparing and finding. Only now I want to use it for someone else.

The Ėditure isn't here to show you everything that exists. It's here to do exactly the opposite: to choose. To find the really good stuff in all the noise. What works. What's well made. What makes your life easier. What saves you time. What has beauty, intention or a story worth knowing.

Expensive doesn't always mean good, and good doesn't always mean expensive. For me, that's what curating is: looking at a lot so you have to look at less. If something is going to take up space in your home, your closet, your bathroom or your life, it had better be really good. That's The Ėditure: less noise, better choices.

Although I should clarify something before I finish. None of the above applies to white shirts, earrings, necklaces, or when I'm traveling. I'm working on it. Well… not really.

— Corde