The Creative Pivot

Finding ways to stay in business

Contemplating my new career as a bus driver, therapist, or cat sitter. Photo by Jules Rogers Photography from a house shoot featured in The Sunday Times

(I encourage you to visit the Life Unstyled homepage to explore all the other pieces I’ve written. And also download the Substack app to read/listen on the go).

When I moved my blog over to Substack a few years back I considered renaming it, “What now?” or “What’s next?” or something along those lines. My intention was for it to be a joint exploration - between me and you - of these transitional periods in life, where careers are forced to pivot, self analysis is required in order to grow and move forward, and life’s challenges must be faced and overcome.

I stuck with Life Unstyled in the end. 15 years after writing the first blog post under the moniker, it seemed silly to throw it away. But the sentiment remains.

The cultural shift that ruins your career

Reading this recently published piece in the New York Times - The Gen X Career Meltdown - has made me realise that I was right to consider the name change. Few articles have resonated as deeply with me as this one, at least in recent months. I’m left feeling both extremely validated and deeply saddened by the anecdotes of creatives in the US whose careers in film, TV, music, photography and more came to an abrupt end due to larger industry and cultural shifts.

For a few years I’ve been feeling the effects of changes within my own industry, and while many people are shy to talk about it, I’ve been my usual honest and over-sharing self, discussing it both with my peers and publicly, possibly to my further career detriment. “Pretend you’re busy!” is believed to be the only way to present yourself on social media and to peers. Because busy-ness breeds more business, or so the thinking goes.

Admitting that one’s work has gone a bit quiet gives the impression of being a failure. Yet here I am. Not failing, just trying to hang on and connect with you.

Well, what now?

I know of a previously sought after film editor now working as an Amazon delivery driver; a top of their game Interior Stylist joking (with a fearful undertone) about considering getting a job at their local supermarket; a formerly successful photographer working in a cafe because the work dried up; a successful set designer in Hollywood, once overseeing design teams on TV shows, whose work just stopped and never started again.

None of these alternate jobs mentioned are inherently bad. Having a job in a restaurant or a shop or a cafe is completely normal for many artists, musicians, designers, when they’re trying to make it, but it’s being sent back to that job after reaching a career peak that is so hard to stomach.

I also know of many middle age creatives who have retrained or started completely new businesses. The seaside town where I now live is filled with ex-Londoners who left the city for a quieter, less stressful life, many leaving lucrative but often soul destroying jobs in fashion, advertising, marketing. While this is a little different - it was an active choice rather a forced decision - and many have started new but still creative businesses, it is still an example of middle age reinvention. Frankly, I’m not sure how many of them are making much money yet, but the intention is there.

It’s not me, it’s you

I’ve written openly on here about my own struggles with redefining my career, as my shoot styling work has diminished over the last 18 months to little more than a dribble, unreliable and sporadic in a way that it rarely was before. In a strangely reassuring way, reading the stories in the NYT piece feels like a full stop/period on a chapter I’ve been writing about for a long time.

It wasn’t just me. I wasn’t imagining it. It is really happening to other people. And not just in the creative industries. Jobs have vanished, life got really expensive and there doesn’t seem to be a solution in sight.

It’s very easy for some people to deny another person’s reality just because they aren’t experiencing it themselves. “That’s great that you’re so busy with shoots Bobby! It must just be me then…”

It reminds me of some women who, because they haven’t experienced any symptoms of peri-menopause, think the ones who are suffering hard must be making it up. It’s called empathy people, you should try it! (Not you, you’re fabulous).

I don’t actually have to pretend to be busy, as mentioned above. In many ways, I’m busier than ever, just not with anything that actually earns income, at least not yet. There are new businesses in development but none yet earning.

My close friends and family have watched over the last 18 months as I try to redefine my career on my own terms, and even though they have never said as such, I’ve always felt a deep sense of shame around it. They must think I’m just not trying (trying is all I do). They must think it’s my fault (It’s not).

The NYT piece has made all those unhelpful thoughts vanish. I’m tempted to send it to everyone I’ve moaned to, with a note attached, “See! It’s not just me!”

Some people in the NYT piece and in my own circle of acquaintances were forced to take any job just to get by while they figure out what’s next. Others got what I refer to as ‘proper jobs’ in offices, with regular pay checks and no connection to their former creative careers and lives. Others still are trying to hang on to what dregs are left in their former creative, often freelance careers.

“My peers, friends and I continue to navigate the unforeseen obsolescence of the career paths we chose in our early 20s,” Mr. Wilcha said. “The skills you cultivated, the craft you honed — it’s just gone. It’s startling.”

From the NYT piece by Steven Kurutz

I’ve chosen to attempt to stay in the industry in which I’ve built a name over the last fifteen years, at least for now. I LOVE what I do. I’m GOOD at what I do. I don’t know WHAT ELSE I would do and I’m not ready yet to give up (I’m not implying that others have given up. I’m in the fortunate position of not having small children to care/pay for anymore, which gives me a bit more freedom. Although I do have a big mortgage and bills and no partner to share the burden so there’s that…)

I have been working on a pivot that makes sense in theory, although there is still no guarantee. Brands may not be hiring stylists/set designers as much to create imagery for photography and film (this will only get worse as AI imagery improves, and you’re a fool if you think this won’t happen) but people still have homes that they live in and events that they attend. It’s why I released a wallpaper collection - people still want to decorate. And it’s why I’m also exploring more event based styling as well.

I consider myself to be very lucky that I have quite a few strings to my bow, which have helped me have multiple income streams over the years. Aside from styling shoots for brands, I write books, I write here, I’m pretty good on camera and with public speaking and have hosted design workshops and talks many times (again, the in-person work is where I’m going to be putting my energy), I offer interiors consultations for residential and commercial clients - there is a lot that I can and have done! People always told me I should focus on one thing, but as usual I ignored them and did what I thought was best. And I’m glad I did! But will it be enough?

…another threat, artificial intelligence, which seems likely to replace many of the remaining Gen X copywriters, photographers and designers. By 2030, ad agencies in the United States will lose 32,000 jobs, or 7.5 percent of the industry’s work force, to the technology, according to the research firm Forrester.

From the NYT piece by Steven Kurutz

It’s easy in times like this to sound like a bitter old has-been, complaining about getting left behind. When the rug gets pulled out from under you, it is natural to struggle to find your footing. Some people never recover.

Think about the pit closures in the 1970s where entire towns and communities who had been reliant on the coal mining industry were thrown into economic disaster overnight, with no plan in place to help them recover. Many of them never did.

Right now, I feel lucky to still have some optimism left. It isn’t constant and when it wanes, it wanes. But so far, it does come back and I’m able to keep moving and keep trying to adapt to this new world.

In many ways, my life feels better right now than it has done in a long time. I have amazing friends, both new and old, my social life is great, I’m dating again, I feel (mostly) extremely creative and productive. It is finally Spring and God knows, this ex-LA girl suffers in Winter.

The only missing piece is the income, but of course it’s kind of an important piece.

The Next Gen (Z)

On the flip side of all this creative uncertainty for Gen X and others, I see incredible creativity in some of my children’s generation. My son, age 22, living in Peckham, going to gigs for experimental bands I’ve never heard of, pushing the boundaries in fashion and art and music, blending art with tech in brilliant ways that have nothing to do with making money.

It reminds me in some way of when I was living in New York in the early/mid nineties. Going to clubs and seeing all the club kids in their insane outfits; and the young grunge bands playing in tiny crowded shops. I love it all, and the creative energy is palpable. But I also feel so scared for them. My ex husband and I spoke recently and joked of our son, “Shit, he’s an artist. How unfortunate”. Because how will they earn a living in a world that doesn’t appreciate their value?

But isn’t it the artists that always bring us back from the brink of destruction in some way? Not to pin all my hopes on poor old Gen Z, but let’s hope the pendulum swings back their way.

Or there’s my cousin, age 24, living on houseboat in London because it’s cheap, learning stone carving because she loves it and thinks that it’s so niche that if you know how to do it well, you will probably be in demand. Their drive isn’t money, it is to create because it’s all they know how to do.

I met someone recently who is an excellent musician but didn’t manage to make a career out of it, and has for years worked in a ‘proper job’, quoting the oft repeated phrase “I chose to work to live, not live to work”. I wish I could be like that. And perhaps I too will ultimately have to take a job that feeds nothing but my bank account and there is no shame in it at all. But for now, I push on.

I have to believe that creativity and creatives can’t be destroyed permanently or made obsolete forever. For those of us with a drive to create, it isn’t a choice. It is a force within us that we can’t stifle. I guess the real question is whether we can continue to make a living with it and that is still unknown. Or maybe we have the answer already, but we don’t want to accept it.

Thanks as always for reading/listening and thanks also to those of you who continue to be paid subscribers. Your support means so much to me as a creative x