Polling the 1 Granary Instagram followers, 44% felt lonely often as a freelancer. Simultaneously, fashion’s workforce is increasingly leaving the office – and not always by choice. The current gig economy and precariousness of our industry (just think of the many mass redundancies you’ve heard about recently) are forcing many into self-employment.
When asked if he ever feels lonely in his freelance work, Michael Miller, a stylist and co-chair of Bectu’s Fashion UK Union branch, answers: “Every day.” Hollie Lacayo, a stylist and Fashion UK co-chair adds: “With the holiday season nearing, work slows down. It can feel incredibly isolating.”
Lesley Winterbach, who runs The Good List (a recruitment platform for creative freelancers), notes that loneliness is an ever-growing issue among freelancers everywhere. She recently hosted a series of one-on-one coaching sessions. “At every session, there was a question about meeting people, connecting, and finding a community – all these questions about loneliness. It made me sad because I feel it too,” she says.
Of course, it’s an easy assumption that freelancers feel alone because they work alone. As a freelancer – in any industry – you’re spending significantly less time with your colleagues with whom to chit-chat throughout the day. Co-working spaces might seem like the first line of defence here, but, according to Winterbach, the solution isn’t as simple as this: “No one speaks to each other in these spaces. It’s lonely because you’re working, surrounded by people, but you’re not connecting.” There’s also the additional cost to factor in, something a freelancer’s wage may not allow for.
You’d expect the loneliest place to be a freelancer’s WFH setup, where we type, draw, sew or otherwise work post-midnight (perhaps with some scented candles to offset the laptop’s blue light or a cat for company). But this isn’t always the case. Freelance pattern maker Evita Rigert said she felt lonely after she was “put in the basement doing pointless work. Everyone had to walk past me, but nobody knew my name, and nobody was interested.”
“Those people behind you are probably fighting for your job because they think it’s well-paid and glamorous. They don’t know.” – Michael Miller
For the most part, fashion still operates under an unnecessarily fast-paced, competitive and hierarchical system, where freelancers (and those in assisting roles) are treated as replaceable or insignificant, which can be incredibly lonely. “We hear a lot of talk from assistants where they feel invisible and like nobody gives a shit about them,” Miller says. Freelancers share stories of cupboards and windowless rooms, where they work long hours with little time for breaks. Toma Aardenburg, a model and aspiring designer, recalls fittings “where the client will put you in the closet for several days straight. You won’t see daylight.”
Through fashion schools, prestigious internships, work experience and social media, fashion freelancers learn to treat each other as competition. This gets lonely – especially if the prize (an Instagram tag, money for a week’s worth of groceries, the fleeting dopamine boost of seeing your creative work realised and, maybe, some free clothes) isn’t worth it. “Those people behind you are probably fighting for your job because they think it’s well-paid and glamorous,” Miller says. “They don’t know.”
Crucially, competition individualises industry-wide problems. “When asked how they’re doing, many [fashion freelancers] say they’re ‘booked, busy, blessed,’” Miller adds. “Even if that’s not the case.” On an individual level, this is understandable. To get new gigs, fashion freelancers rely on their ‘personal brand,’ exuding a public persona as bubbly as the champagne they sip at the press event. In reality, both Miller and Aardenburg see plenty of workers turn to alcohol and drugs to “cope” with the industry’s unsustainable demands.
Miller, who has bipolar disorder, experienced his first ‘major’ manic episode during a 2009 internship. “In fashion, there is no space to be ill or struggle, certainly not with your mental health,” he says. Any professional obstacle a fashion freelancer faces – whether with a clear cause (financial trouble due to a late-paid invoice, burn-out after unrealistic working demands, a hand injury from the sewing machine) or multi-rooted (loneliness, depression, manic episodes or insomnia affecting your productivity) – is framed as an individual problem. You must find a way to “cope”. If you don’t, countless other keen, qualified freelancers are waiting to replace you – or so the narrative goes.
When he was depressed, Aardenburg alerted his agency, who promptly took him out of the game. But not for the sake of his mental health: “They didn’t think I could do my job, so I couldn’t make them money,” he explains. Miller agrees: “Freelancers don’t get sick leave. If we’re unable to work, we’re unable to make money. I think that’s why people are so cautious about disclosing how they’re doing. They feel like it could be seen as a weakness, and they’ll miss out on work because of that.”
“People need to look beyond their ego and start a conversation.” – Evita Rigert
If a freelancer’s loneliness is amplified by neoliberal individualisation, then individual, neoliberal solutions (co-working cafés, networking events, social media, have you tried yoga?) might not always cut it. “People need to look beyond their ego and start a conversation,” says Rigert. “Just being open and honest – even with yourself,” adds Miller. This might seem obvious, but in fashion, we often omit the less-than-glamorous aspects of our careers, even when self-reflecting or DMing our fashion friends. We’re just lucky to be here, right?
In Fashion UK’s: State of the Sector survey, one question reads, “Do you supplement your income with non-fashion-related work?” and another: “Has your work negatively impacted your personal relationships?” Raise your hand if you’ve answered ‘yes’ twice. The goal, explain Lacayo and Miller, is to boost transparency in the industry. “We’re looking into things that contribute to job enjoyment and how your mental health is doing.” The survey was authored by Bectu’s Fashion UK Union branch, which helps members (freelancers and contracted employees) with terms and pay negotiation, legal support, invoice chasing, skill training and more. Members and non-members also have access to dedicated WhatsApp groups where they can raise questions, experiences and worries in a low-threshold way.
For freelancers who can’t join the union (it’s only open to UK-based non-performing fashion professionals, costs a small, earning-based membership fee and operates on member participation), there are other options to combat loneliness. A few of our followers recommended renting a shared studio with other creatives, or inviting friends to work in your space (whether that be a studio or a WFH setup).
The remedy for freelance loneliness is sharing: your skills and time as a mentor, community contributions at a union, your workspace, your rates, experiences of (toxic) working conditions, questions and doubts, successes, life hacks and – crucially – the less-than-glamorous facets of your freelance fashion career. “Otherwise,” as Miller puts it, “we’ll just stay in this polluted bubble where everything seems fine, but it’s not.”
