The Influencer Illusion: Why Creative Life Isn’t as Glamorous as Everyone Thinks

I’m Federica, Milanese by birth, Londoner by choice. It's hard to believe that it’s been almost a decade since I moved here aged 18, with no plan beyond a dream of working in fashion. I started from the bottom, going from stockroom to shop floor and eventually landing in visual merchandising, before realising that art direction was where my heart really was. London tested me hard, but it rewards the ones who show up, hustle, and stay.

I always say that London is to me what New York was to Carrie Bradshaw—only without the Upper East Side apartment or a wardrobe full of Manolos. My first studio had three drawers and half a clothing rail. Very un–Sex and the City.

My first “real” job was at Prada. Six months in, I was a visual merchandiser at HQ, and it was the best education I could have asked for. But after five-and-a-half years, I knew it was time to leap into freelancing. Scary? Absolutely. But you can’t build your dream life without risk.

The early days were brutal: late payments, counting coins for rent, waiting months for invoices to clear... Freelancing wasn’t about becoming an influencer for me; my bread and butter was consulting for brands. But like so many creatives, I eventually gave Instagram a try.

And wow, what a wake-up call it was. Most of what you see online is nothing but a glossy highlight reel. London is beautiful, but it’s expensive, and no one’s posting their overdue bills. It took seven years of graft before 2023 became my turning point: my first Dior job, brand-hosting gigs, and press trips. The recognition finally came, but with it, so did the pressure.

People love to say there’s “space for everyone” in this industry. That's true, but it’s definitely crowded. There’s no salary security, just hustle and invoices. And let’s be honest, no one tells you how exhausting that is.

I first started experimenting with Instagram back when I worked at Prada, sharing office looks and lift selfies, long before that could be considered a job. Later came the first gifted posts; my first “deal” was a pair of shoes worth £50—cute, but that was hardly going to pay the bills. Then lockdown changed everything. I shot content in my kitchen against the only decent white wall I had, posting three times a day. That’s when I hit 10,000 followers and started to discover social anxiety, comparison, and burnout.

Here’s what I learned: comparing yourself to people on Instagram is a losing game. What you see isn’t real—half of creators buy things just to return them after the shoot. No shame to them, that's just the reality. I try to keep it honest, because nobody benefits from only seeing the highlights.

The creative life isn’t as dreamy as it looks. Even with recognition, the chaos never stops; delayed payments, client drama, last-minute briefs. You just get better at managing it. Behind every “dream trip” or sponsored post are hours of planning, editing, and pretending you’ve got it all together.

Being a creative is hard, unpredictable, and often terrifying, but it’s also wildly rewarding. You learn resilience, resourcefulness, and how to celebrate every small win. No Manolos, no champagne lunches, but freedom? That’s priceless.

So if you’re thinking of jumping into this world, do it, but keep your eyes open. And maybe keep that piggy bank of savings handy, too. The hustle never really ends, you just get better navigating the chaos.

@federica.labanca

My Top Tips for Budding Content Creators

Be consistent. It might be cliché, but it's still the absolute best advice you can follow in order to be successful, and that's in any field.

Stay in your lane. Don't change who you are or what you do because you feel like trends are going against you. It will pay off eventually.

Build your own relationships. This is a business like any other, so don’t rely on agencies or anyone else to build your career—do that yourself!