Georgia Frances King

Georgia Frances King 

When talking with Georgia Frances King, it struck me how much she resembles the beloved Roald Dahl protagonist Matilda – only with much more supportive parents.

A self-confessed ‘precocious little thing’, as a child Georgia taught herself to read and remembers attempting Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea when she was nine or ten. "I probably had no idea what it was actually about, but I was always seeking to push myself."

From working as the Assistant Editor of frankie magazine while still studying at university, to freelancing in New York City before taking the helm at Kinfolk, it’s easy to see Georgia has retained her knack for pushing herself.

Such a quality is often associated with wearing busyness as a badge of honour, but Georgia is grounded, self-aware and maintains an almost unparalleled sense of curiosity for ideas and people.

"I'm definitely a dichotomy – although I talk a lot, I also listen a lot. I'm very extroverted, but I need more alone time than most people I know."

After three years living in Portland while working at Kinfolk, Georgia said she was ready to return to a faster pace of life. “Finishing up as the editor of Kinfolk was scary, but it was the right decision because I made it for me rather than for my career.”

Before she set off back to New York for her new role as Deputy Ideas Editor at Quartz, Georgia opened up her childhood home and shared her daily routine. With art collector parents, growing up she was surrounded by a "clown-car cavalcade of interesting people." Being exposed to such an inspiring artistic world from a young age would undoubtedly shape your character and bring a unique set opportunities, but much like her teaching herself to read, her drive and determination has always come from within.     

"People have asked whether there was pressure put on me by my family, friends or teachers at a young age, but the pressure has always come from myself."

Every wall in the Melbourne home is adorned with street art by some of the world’s most renowned artists – Banksy, Shepard Fairey, Swoon, Ron English – and local talents including Rone, Meggs, Kid Zoom, Ha Ha, and Anthony Lister. Yet amongst the grander, Georgia was approachable and warm as she shared her reflections on navigating the ‘grey area’ in life. 

"We waste a lot of time worrying about things that never end up happening, and we can put that energy toward trying to effect change on the areas that we do actually control."

Instead of worrying, we might as well put our energy into our wildest plans and make the most of what we have – sometimes it's a little, sometimes it's a lot. In the words of Matilda, "Never do anything by halves if you want to get away with it. Be outrageous. Go the whole hog. Make sure everything you do is so completely crazy it’s unbelievable." 

Georgia’s approach to daily life, drive, generosity, and curiosity teaches us that we are closer to the unbelievable than we might think, and we can all be a little outrageous. 

On banning the words ‘I’m busy’ from your vocabulary…

In early 2015 I came close to having the mental breakdown that everyone told me I’d have if I kept working at the rate I was.

It was scary, and it made me want to change. At around that time I coincidentally interviewed author and life coach Greg McKeown about the curse of being busy. When people are asked how they are, their answer so often is “I’m so busy.” And I was completely guilty of that. So I banned those words from my vocabulary and decided that I wasn’t going to define myself by how busy I was.

That also helped me to stop caring what other people thought of me. I'm still struggling with that, and I think I always will. When you work in a field where your product is bound by an audience, you’re always in the mode of being aware of how people perceive you and your work—both professionally and personally.  

On learning to be okay with not knowing what is next...

My biggest enemy is myself. I put a lot of pressure on myself by comparing the current me to the ideal version of the person I want to be. But I’ve realized that where you want to be and who you should be are just arbitrary metrics that you’ve decided: You’re only binding yourself to yourself if you think like that.

When I decided to move back to New York, I went through a process of not knowing where my next job was going to be, where I was going to live, what was happening with my visa, my car, my lease, my cat—not knowing anything.

But instead of thinking of all the worst case scenarios for all of the what-ifs—as my brain is hard-wired to do—I tried to only focus on one what-if at a time, which helped me take control of my own worrywartness. We waste a lot of time worrying about things that never end up happening, and we can put that energy toward trying to effect change on the areas that we do actually control. 

On being comfortable talking to strangers…

Throw me into a room of strangers and I thrive. That’s my happy place! I know that’s really abnormal, but I think part of it has to do with having eccentric parents who were in the fashion industry and involved in the art world; there was always this clown-car cavalcade of interesting people coming through the door when I was growing up. They would throw these dinner parties where I would get to sit at the table as a seven-year-old and interact with really incredible adults.  That probably spiked my curiosity for people, and from a young age I was never afraid of putting myself out there or knowing less than what other people know. I always want to continue learning.

Now I talk to everybody from people in coffee queues to the person I sit next to on public transport. I believe that everyone has an interesting story to tell. Even if you’re at a dinner party or family gathering and you’re stuck next to someone that you don't necessarily want to be next to, try to pull stories out of people and understand who they are. People can teach us so much about ourselves.

A lot of how I learn isn’t necessarily through reading, but having conversations with people. I really use people as a way to navigate through the world—which is a lot more fun than binding learning to traditional academia. 

On job titles, prestige and the pressure we put on ourselves...

People have asked whether there was pressure put on me by my family, friends or teachers at a young age, but the pressure has always come from myself.

Professional success has always been important to me, so one of the things I grappled with for a long time was defining myself through my job first and as a person second. In Australia I used to define myself by saying "I work at frankie magazine." Then when I moved to New York my freelance writing life was how I defined myself. And then for a long time when I was working at Kinfolk, that was the first bit of information I’d share with people, because that was the only way I knew how to explain who I was. It was really unbalanced.

I realized that as soon as you define yourself by your job title, people only see you as that, rather than as a human being. It forced me to confront myself in a personal manner, because who was I without my job? It was a tough shift! Now I’m trying to restrain using my job as a barometer of success. I do need to be successful in my career, because that’s important to me, but it’s not the only thing that’s important to me anymore. 

On experimenting with your days...

It has taken a lot of experimentation to get to a point where I’m really happy with my routine. I don’t have a firm eight hours that I work for and then switch off, but that doesn’t make me feel overworked, tired or stressed. I work a little bit, socialise a little bit, learn a little bit and read a little bit all day, and that works for me. 

It may seem like I have everything put together, but I swear it’s not! I’ve only gained this control over myself in the past year or so, and I’m still learning every day. Life is always changing and we are always changing, so you have to constantly check yourself and look around to see if the decisions you’re making are still working. 

On planning to be spontaneous…

I'm really trying not to overcommit myself in my spare time to allow more time for life to happen naturally. I used to say that I like to “plan to be spontaneous” by blocking off sections of time or evenings for spontaneity. I know that defeats the point of being spontaneous, but for someone who is anally retentively organised like myself, it’s a medium ground to mark off time to do something that’s not planned ten days in advance. 

On when days don’t go to plan…

The days I feel the dullest are when I have set out to do something, and I haven't achieved it—even if that something is to do nothing and I've accidentally done something all day! When I sleep in too late, I also feel like I’ve set off on the wrong foot and I'm rushing to condense everything into the day. So I still try to be out of bed at a reasonable time on weekends… which often doesn’t happen after a fun Friday night!

I'm trying to be less organised, live in the grey area more and fly by the seat of my pants more. I sometimes find that the best part of having such a structured routine like mine is that I can break it. I’m learning that I don’t always have to stick by these arbitrary rules that I've created for myself.

On dating and having compatible schedules…

When I was living in Melbourne I was dating an artist. We had the exact opposite schedules and it drove me nuts. I would want to go to bed at 10pm but he often worked till 2am, then I’d be wide-awake by 6am while he’d want to sleep in till noon. I loved him, but it only gave me a narrow window of time to love him! So when I moved to America, I wanted to consciously try to date people who worked on a similar schedule to me.

But then in Oregon I developed the wonderful habit of dating winemakers! That worked out quite well, not just because I had a lot of awesome wine around all the time, but also because I would go and spend my weekends in the countryside, where they lived and worked, and still get that alone time I craved during the week. At one point I dated someone for nine months who lived three hours south of Portland. For the first little while that commute was a good time to read and I loved my weekends away, but then I started to lose connection with my Portland social life because I was spending all of my free time either on a bus or in wine country. It started to feel very unbalanced—there always has to be a sacrifice somewhere.

On surrounding yourself with people who are smarter than you…

I tend to surround myself with people who are as intellectually curious as myself but who are focussed on a different area. The qualities I’m most attracted to in people are passion, determination and drive. I don't care what you’re passionate about—you can be passionate about investment banking and I’d still want to have a four-hour conversation with you trying to learn more about that.

On the myth of the perfect group of friends…

I'm a very social person, but I've never been someone who has a clearly defined group of friends. Instead, I've always had individual friendships with individual people. For a long time I felt like I was always searching for that Friends-style group of people where there was always drinks happening somewhere in a big happy clan, but someone recently said to me, “Georgia, that doesn't exist. Stop trying to seek it.” And I realised they were right. My friends are everything to me, and I find I can give myself wholly to them in one-on-one situations instead of navigating a constantly shifting group.