The pursuit of ‘cool’ work has financially ruined me
WORDS BY LILY BEAMISH
“The structures that allow people to flourish within cool industries are set up for the wealthy.”
From yoga teacher to florist, gallery assistant to fit model, art critic to chef, I’ve been in pursuit of cool work since I can remember. I want that blasé, semi-nomadic lifestyle where I’m constantly frolicking in the countryside, while also attending every restaurant opening and art show in Melbourne. Call it unreasonable, but that’s always been my goal.
It was also the blueprint. With three degrees under my belt; a bachelor’s in painting, a master’s in curation and a Graduate Diploma in Journalism, I felt equipped with everything I could potentially need to secure that elusive ‘cool job’.
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What I found, however, wasn’t a seamless transition from university to a Fashion Journal How I Got Here feature. Instead, I was confronted with a juncture between financial stability, creative work and personal sacrifice.
Firstly, what is ‘cool’ work?
This definition will differ for everyone but for me, cool work combines autonomous exploration, creative expression and a fast-paced, ever-changing environment. The unicorn of cool work is also flexible and highly paid.
I don’t think I’m unique in wanting this, I’d argue most people want intellectually engaging and financially stable work, while still finding time for themselves and their passions. But within the creative realms, this triad teeters on the edge of make-believe. And I’m not just complaining – a 2024 review by the Fair Work Commission supports this statement: Australian creatives’ wages are slipping.
With no binding awards coverages (an agreement that entitles minimum pay wages) for sculptors, studio assistants, editors, podcasters, audiobook producers and other jobs within the creative industries, many Australians are being underpaid for their work while the businesses supplying the aforementioned ‘cool jobs’ profit. This is colloquially called the ‘passion trap’, a notion that people will work for exposure or low wages because they love what they’re doing.
Underpaid work and unpredictable income
The passion trap thrives within creative industries, especially the arts, writing and fashion, as these industries are often underfunded (through government cuts, changing media landscapes and changes to fungible marketing) meaning they rely on free labour through internships and volunteer positions, or through a casualised workforce.
Although pitching, freelance work and gig work can provide a mix of creative freedom, autonomy and change, it can come at the cost of financial and personal stability. And thus, the distinction between free-time and freelance becomes blurry.
When I originally began my quest for cool work, I was inspired by the path of Sabina McKenna (@art_workr) a Naarm-based curator, writer, and founder of the journalistic project, Where Are You From. Having met her at the age of 19 through an ex-boyfriend, I was immediately impressed by her authenticity, creativity and drive. Through my rose-tinted glasses, her life, work and network seemed like an idyllic representation of what cool work can mean.
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But as I got to know her better, the blurry vision of a life I viewed as effortlessly cool began to come into focus. Behind her exhibitions, collaborations, successes and growth was a lot of hard work.
“It is hard to sustain for sure. I’ve always had a part-time ‘fall-back’ job in communications or marketing but I think that’s just the reality for a lot of creative people,” Sabina tells me. “Our work can be really undervalued and it’s constant work to maintain both relevance and interest in what you do.”
“I think that’s why it’s important to know what matters to you in terms of creative practice. If you’re doing what you love, it makes the process a lot more fulfilling and less contingent on external validation and markers of success… But finding out what you like and listening to yourself is integral to sustaining a creative career the way I have. It is very hard work.”
I’m not naive – every teacher, mentor and course I’ve engaged with has emphasised how success within creative realms is highly competitive and takes a huge amount of effort. A successful creative worker’s favourite advice is if you work hard and you’re passionate enough, eventually you will land your dream job. But that isn’t always the case.
What is the long-term cost of cool?
These types of encouragements are the reason I’ve doggedly pursued unpaid internships and volunteer-based roles, trying as hard as I can to become the perfect candidate for the perfect job and in the process, chewing through my savings.
The structures that allow people to flourish within cool industries are set up for the wealthy. With creative internships often being unpaid and highly competitive, with experience a ‘must’ to get your foot in the door, the ability to engage with cool work becomes financially skewed.
On top of this, the seasonal, self-motivated nature of cool work can place people at a serious risk of burning out before they’ve had a chance to establish themselves. I’ve been lucky enough to receive some support from my parents during my studies while also working two or three part-time jobs. But people have heard enough from wealthy white girls.
Creative spaces flourish when there are intersectional voices at the table and for that to be possible, greater funding and more stable work is needed. Until then I’ll continue to work as a gallery assistant, a retail worker, an event waitress, a yoga teacher and a sometimes journalist.
For more on making money as a freelance creative, head here.
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