In an era where everyone is broadcasting their lives in 4K, the people who choose to disappear hold an almost mythical status.

We live in a content economy that rewards oversharing.

Yet the artists and brands who refuse to participate-the Frank Ocean's, the Martin Margiela's, the Sade's of the world -become even more desirable.

Or is it just the by-product of people who genuinely want to be left alone?

And more importantly, why does it work so well?

When Frank Ocean posts, the internet stops. No, the world stops. It feels like a mythical pull (if you know you know.)

When Margiela releases a collection, fashion insiders scramble to decode its meaning.

Elusive doesn't even cut it. These artists have crafted a career-long, five-star disappearing act, making every rare moment of visibility feel monumental. Their absence forces us to lean in, to pay attention, to want more.

It's a stark contrast to the always-on social media cycle, where even the biggest stars can feel too available. When you can see someone's every move, you stop craving their next one.

But when an artist removes themselves from the noise, they create space for intrigue. And intrigue? That's priceless.

It's why we love cliffhangers, conspiracy theories, and why an unannounced Frank Ocean album sends fans into a frenzy - when we actually do get one, that is. (Frank, if you ever see this, I beg of you.)

There's a psychological reason for this called the information gap theory.

When we don't know everything about someone, our brains work overtime to fill in the blanks, making them larger than life.

Think about it-would Margiela's influence be the same if he had an Instagram full of behind-the-scenes selfies?

Would Frank Ocean's music feel as potent if he was tweeting daily hot takes?

Their mystique elevates their art, making their every move feel significant, intentional, and impactful.

Frank Ocean, obviously - Drops music on his terms, rarely speaks, no interviews, no appearances, and has fans still working overtime, dissecting every cryptic Tumblr post circa 2010.

Martin Margiela - Never showed his face, never gave interviews, and built an entire brand around anonymity.

Sade - I literally asked my sister over summer break if she was still alive. That's a different level of mysterious. Like Frank, she only ever made music when she felt like it, then disappeared for decades, making even the thought of a return feel legendary.

Daft Punk - Wore helmets to remove themselves from the celebrity machine, then broke up without warning, solidifying their icon status.

Here's the thing-mystery isn't about not posting.

It only works when there's something worth chasing. Frank Ocean and Margiela could afford to disappear because their work was already undeniably good.

Trying to create mystique without substance? That's just sh*tty marketing.

But brands have tried.

Bottega Veneta famously deleted all their social media, banking on exclusivity and word-of-mouth instead.

It worked-briefly-because the brand was already desirable. But for others? It can feel forced. Or you'd fade into irrelevance because well, you're not really that relevant to begin with.

True mystery isn't an aesthetic; it's a by-product of being so compelling that people obsess over your absence.

How does the saying go? Don't strive only to make your presence noticed, strive to make your absence felt.

In a world where attention is currency, pulling away might be the most powerful move an artist or brand can make.

But it's not for everyone. Mystery works only when there's enough credibility to back it up. If you're going to go ghost, make sure there's something worth searching for when people come looking.