Is the grass really greener on the other side?
Ex-Canta graphic designer, Ella said yes, unfortunately it is. But others may disagree.
Ella after first moving into her new Melbourne flat. Source: Supplied.
It’s widely known people working in Aotearoa’s creative industries might struggle to find a job after graduation. The presumption that arts students will be a barista for the rest of their lives, musicians will have to resort to teaching, and journalists will become social media managers, is not far from the truth - but nor are they bad gigs. They’re just not what people with niche talents and creative gifts truly want to be doing with their skills.
The Profile of Creative Professionals 2023 survey questioned a range of creative professionals, painting a bleak picture of earnings in the arts sector and the sustainability of creative careers. You can read the infographic, but to keep it short and sweet, here’s a couple fun facts:
$37,000 median total income for creative professionals (including all sources of income)
Three quarters of creative professionals are finding it difficult or are just getting by on their current income
39% of creative professionals participating in the gig economy say that it has more downsides than benefits
Okay, so maybe they’re not very fun, but there might just be a light at the end of the tunnel, or a job with a decent income in another country.
My case study: Ella f*cking Waterreus, Canta’s stellar graphic designer for the class of 2023. At the Aotearoa Student Press Association Awards, Waterreus cleaned up best centrefold, as no surprise to anyone.
But despite completing her bachelor’s degree in industrial product design and leaving on a high note from Canta, finding a job in the design industry was nearly impossible. She now lives in Melbourne, the bustling hub for arts and creativity, with the population of Aotearoa in one city.
After a group chat joke about moving to Melbourne, she has now landed a job at one of the leading designer brands.
Waterreus knew New Zealand is amazing, “but it's got its time and place,” she said.
Writing every single cover letter from scratch, it was disheartening. Money was tight a month out of uni, and she thought, “oh my god, I'm just going to have to do the first job that takes me,” which ended up being in hospitality.
“I think I gave up because I was like, I'm just never going to get a job no matter what, and searching for them was really hard because it's a niche field, so you have to wade through so many jobs.”
The thing is for Waterreus, she loves her country shamelessly and not in a patriotic kind of way as she prefaced. So if she’d got anything design related in Christchurch, she definitely would have stuck around, but that option wasn’t very palatable anymore – and her hospo gig just wasn’t cutting it.
“It was really stressful. I kind of would apply for design jobs in waves because it really takes it out of you.”
Wanting to avoid getting stuck in the hospo realm in Melbourne, she rode the wave of applying for jobs once more, until her uncle gave her a nudge about a job opening at clothing/sleepwear brand: Peter Alexander.
After a relatively relaxed phone interview and a skim over Waterreus’ impressive portfolio, she claimed the third visual merchandising graphic designer role.
“We had a conference last week, and they did a big cocktail night, with a big rooftop fashion show and champagne being passed around. And I was like, how is this my life? Like, this is my first job,” Waterreus said.
Her job works alongside two veterans who know the trade like the back of their hand, and she’s indefinitely been thrown in the deep end.
Designing window displays, decals and signage for the stores, Peter knows how to keep her busy, always designing months ahead.
Her first couple days were a testament to the intensity and thrill.
On day two, Waterreus was told to design their Black Friday decal for the window, and was told she was meeting with Peter to discuss their plans.
“He came in and knelt down on the floor next to me, and showed me some designs that he wanted me to incorporate. And I was like, oh my god, is this a celebrity?”
Working in such an important role also means Christmas and New Years are only off every two years, and she has to give three months’ notice when she’s ready to resign – crazy right.
I tried to rally up another bright eyed creative that had hit overseas and thrived, but a timely LinkedIn post caught my eye, from a fellow journo by the name of Kirsty Frame.
Frame feels a stark difference from early 2023 when she was first looking for work in Melbourne. Almost a dozen of her friends in Australia and New Zealand are still on the hunt – some for as long as six months. There’s lots of reasons as to why, from redundancy to non-renewals and recent relocations.
Recruiters she’s talked to say it’s been one of their quietest quarters, and between the job cuts and office closures, Frame can see why.
“There’s a sting of shame when you’re getting rejected, and more pings of stress as life rolls on with its expenses. I don’t see a lot of conversation about this on LinkedIn, probably because it’s the platform for the employed, so I hope if anyone else struggling with not having work right now can ruminate with me a bit. It’s hard out here.”
She’s unfortunately right – LinkedIn is a platform for gloating about your endeavours. You hardly see the unfortunate realities, but the transparency is absolutely necessary.
But the matter of the fact is, finding a job is hard, whether it’s in Melbourne or Ōtautahi.
Whether it’s greener or not, it’s different for every bushy tailed individual trying to make their way in the world. The colour that creatives bring to life is so bright, so let us hope it doesn’t keep going unnoticed.