Searching For Jobs at the End of the World

Dispatches from a life beyond severance.

I lost my job at the end of October 2024. Legally, I’m not really allowed to explain more about this but in the end I was fairly well taken care of with severance (which is since long gone). Our daughter, who decided to join the ranks of independently existing humans 5 weeks early, was due on April 25. It wasn’t much time for me to figure things out.

This was not unfamiliar territory to me as a creative, especially one who logged years in magazines. Certainly, that doesn’t make it easy or enjoyable. It’s more akin to the dentist: familiar, possibly painful and with an absolute requirement for numbing agents.

But, pushing 40, I have a fairly stacked resume and a network of contacts that could help extricate me from unemployment. My friends and former colleagues are generally wonderful people and they came to my aid as quickly as they learned I needed it. Nevertheless, months and one beautiful daughter later, my situation remains unchanged despite our best efforts.

The job market right now is hard. It’s 2008 hard. (As a 2007 grad, this is also familiar territory.) I have applied and milked the connections, some which rank as high as founders or CEOs at brands with openings. Of the many jobs I’ve chased, three of them have resulted in serious, grueling, sometimes brutal interview processes.

Today, the one that felt right, good and promising resulted in a rejection — a kind one, lined with genuine compliments and entreaties to stay in touch. The closure in itself is rewarding, but certainly not the outcome you hope for after nine separate interviews. The process for this position began in early November. That is a long time. (Not as long as GQ where I interviewed for nine months before getting an offer, but still.) The door with this company is open now, but despite being a “positive” denial, I find myself at square one.

Before this opportunity, there was another role that seemed like it could be a great fit. As a creative applicant, you’re constantly expected to show your past work. Your portfolio is a testament to your skill, your taste and your commitment. People like me spend countless hours and dollars polishing our sites up for the application process. Oftentimes, it’s considered more important than your actual resumé. Can you make something beautiful? Something original? Can you package it in a way that seamlessly displays your skills? On my third interview for a position leading creative I was bluntly told nobody had reviewed my work. This stopped me dead in my tracks.

As creatives we’re expected to prepare this as our calling card, and many times asked to prepare work on spec. To candidly hear my years of work in editorial, art direction and graphic design were not even considered by the third round was comically disheartening. Rude, even.

Almost immediately after I was let go, there was another interview process that went exceptionally well with a brand I knew like the back of my hand. It ended very abruptly, which was surprising to both the recruiter and myself, but it happens. There was never any explanation of why. In the end, you’re never owed that explanation but it was like a 180 from the interviews to the cutting loose and left me more confused than disappointed.

Elsewhere I’ve been told not to bother, “there’s an internal candidate and the listing is just a legal thing they have to do.” A constant refrain you hear is “you don’t want to work there anyway.” Imagine hearing this through the ears of somebody desperate for work, for subsidized insurance, with a newborn in the next room.

Since October, retail and brands have been absolutely rocked by trade wars. Looming tariffs are a dark cloud hanging over budgets, head-counts, and threaten to knock out small and midsize businesses all together. Hiring in this environment is iffy, at best. Some of our own side hustles have gone from profitable to negative and untenable overnight. Layoffs from enormous companies flood the pool of applicants. Talented people I know have been in limbo longer than I have, with nothing on the horizon.

I had my heart set on one of these jobs, truly. It’s stupid and I’m way too old to behave like that, but sometimes you can’t help it. Sometimes it all seems like just maybe these events are elaborately choreographed in the cosmos to spit you out in the exact right place. Maybe they will. I don’t know.

Nobody owes me a job. People make decisions that are right for their teams and that’s the bargain you make when you go hunting. I don’t expect to be handed one on a silver platter. But man, this process has been rough on our family. There are a lot of you in my situation, I know. I’ve no words of comfort for you. I’d give you advice but my own antics haven’t amounted to much. All we can do is keep casting the net.

Oh, and if you want to see my work and resumé, have at it.