The concept of individuality is really intriguing to me. It is defined as the condition of being an individual; having characteristics, beliefs, or expressions that distinguish you from others. But if you truly think about it, we’re all born as these clean slates. Gradually, and slowly, everything—our family, society, gender, language, trauma, love, loss—it all stacks onto us. Layer after layer. And by the time we look in the mirror and say, “this is me,” what we’re really seeing is a whole archive. If you stripped all of that away, who would you be? Would you even exist without all those layers? What we choose to carry every day isn’t random. It’s curated—intentionally or subconsciously. Some carry a book, others a lipstick, someone else a half-eaten granola bar or a stress ball. Each object speaks to habits, priorities, anxieties, aspirations, and roles. Through my photo feature, I have tried exploring a person’s individuality through the content of their bag.
Hence, their faces have either been covered or blurred. Throughout my presentation I will be referring to them as “person”.
To Person A, the value of their bag comes from the items it carries. They believe it quietly reflects their individuality—each object telling a small truth about who they are. Be it the daily essentials like their lip balm and journal, or the emotionally weighted ones—like their worn-out headphones, a favorite book, or a note they’ve kept for years. Their bag holds what they reach for in comfort, in chaos, and in quiet moments. And in that way, it becomes an extension of them—more personal than a mirror, more revealing than a face.
To Person B, their bag is more than just a carrier of things—it’s a quiet source of comfort. Whether it’s filled to the brim or nearly empty, its presence alone grounds them. They feel a strange hollowness when it’s not slung over their shoulder or resting by their side. Inside, you’ll find the usual daily essentials: chargers, a laptop, perhaps a pen or two. But alongside them are forgotten receipts, random objects they’ve collected over time, and items they believe might come in handy someday.
To them, the bag is an honest reflection—of their cluttered thoughts, their spontaneous habits, their endearing disorganization. It’s not neat, but it’s theirs. And that’s what makes it feel like home.
To Person C, the weight of their bag doesn’t lie in how much it holds, but in how much it means. Unlike Person B, they don’t carry a lot—but what they do carry stays constant, like pieces of themselves stitched into fabric. They feel almost naked without it—an extension of their body, their identity. Be it the cologne they spritz on every morning (a daily necessity), their worn gym wrist band (a token of discipline and drive), a few spare guitar strings (a nod to their passion), an empty energy drink can (a quietly admitted addiction), or their inhaler (a literal breath of life)—each item speaks volumes.
In their eyes, the bag isn’t just storage—it’s self-expression. Carried everywhere, not for convenience, but because it carries them.
To Person D, individuality isn’t just something you feel—it’s something you carry, visibly, confidently, and unapologetically. Their white pink bag is a statement in itself: vibrant, loud, and full of life, stamped with an optimistic quote that mirrors their personality—“you are magical.” But the reflection doesn’t end there. Inside, the theme continues: pink lip gloss, a soft velvet scrunchie, strawberry-scented lip gloss, a glittery pen, and even a pink and grey notebook. Everything has a touch of joy, a spark of color, and a quiet intention behind it. To them, their bag isn’t just a fashion choice or a habit—it’s an extension of the way they choose to view the world: with warmth, with playfulness, and with the belief that even the smallest things can make a dull day a little brighter.
To Person E, their bag is more than just something they carry—it’s a quiet constant in the chaos of daily life, something they’re genuinely attached to. What matters most inside it often changes, depending on their mood or the pressure of assignments. But on the rare days when they feel free—when life isn’t demanding too much all at once—they find themselves reaching for their e-reader and kajal, small comforts that feel grounding. Their bag holds what they consider daily necessities: medicines, balm for headaches, a nail cutter, even a toothbrush and toothpaste for the mornings they rush straight to class.
And though it’s mostly about function, Person E admits they’re a bit of a sucker for style—nothing over the top, just a pretty bag they feel emotionally connected to. Whether or not the bag reflects their individuality is something they’re unsure of. To them, individuality shines when it’s visible—when it’s placed in contrast with the world. Their bag, and what’s inside it, has never really been on display before. Not until now.
In a world where identity is so often tied to faces, this photo feature shifts the gaze—inviting us to see people through what they carry, not how they look. Each bag, whether overflowing or minimal, structured or messy, becomes a quiet archive of routines, memories, needs, and desires. Through these everyday objects, we glimpse the tender chaos of individuality—honest, unfiltered, and often hidden in plain sight. Though all five carry bags, what they carry—and why—couldn’t be more different.
Together, their bags form a mosaic of individuality—some loud, some quiet, some intentional, some impulsive. What they carry doesn’t just tell us what they need. It reveals who they are, one item at a time.
DoubleSpeak 