In 2025, what does it mean to be paid fairly in fashion?

Following the discourse on Recho Omondi’s $55,000 job listing, BRICKS deputy editor Madeline Reid discusses “hustle culture”, role-creeping and nuanced expectations

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When Recho Omondi (Opens in a new window), the designer-turned-cult podcast host of The Cutting Room Floor (Opens in a new window), posted a job listing (Opens in a new window) last week, it was meant to be a straightforward step in growing her independent media platform. The role, however, described responsibilities more fitting of three different jobs rolled into one: studio coordinator, bookings administrator, and personal assistant. The offered salary? $55,000 a year. The benefits? None.

On paper, some might see this as “not bad” for a creative role in fashion, especially given the industry’s reputation for underpayment, and the ever-declining state of fashion media here in the UK – but context matters. According to the MIT Living Wage Calculator (Opens in a new window), the estimated livable wage for a single adult in New York City is approximately $32.85 per hour, which translates to an annual salary of about $68,000. Critics have argued that in New York City, $55,000 barely covers rent, transport, and health insurance, let alone the costs of living and working in an industry that so often blurs the line between personal identity and professional life. 

For Omondi, what could have been a quiet job posting quickly became a firestorm. The Cut (Opens in a new window)led the charge with an article titled: “Would You Work In Fashion for $55,000?” Screenshots spread, discussions erupted, and suddenly Omondi, having built her career critiquing the fashion world’s hypocrisies, found herself the face of an argument about fairness, pay, and exploitation. The internet piled on quickly, with some commenters viewing the listing as exploitative and emblematic of fashion’s ongoing refusal to pay its workers fairly. 

But a different current of the backlash argued that the criticism was misdirected. Why, they asked, was so much fury being directed at an independent Black woman running a small platform when much wealthier corporations continue to set and sustain exploitative pay structures?

The backlash

The backlash was immediate and visceral. Critics said the posting embodied everything toxic about entry-level fashion jobs: low pay, long hours, no benefits, and a job description stuffed with responsibilities no one person should manage. In a city like New York, where healthcare is not publicly funded, the lack of benefits hit an especially raw nerve.

But not all the criticism was about Omondi’s listing itself. Some commentators saw something uglier at play: an eagerness to drag down a woman of colour who has managed to build an independent platform in a notoriously gatekept industry. American TV presenter Mona Kosar Abdi (Opens in a new window), speaking to her 900k TikTok followers, described the way Omondi was singled out as “diabolical.” 

She pointed out that her own first media job paid $25,000 for work that spanned three roles, and more than a decade later, those wages have barely risen. “Fashion and media are two historically exclusive industries that have been gatekept,” Abdi said, “and much of the time, the only people that have been able to take those positions are people who are getting outside support and can afford to take low wages for years before starting to make money. Contrary to what [The Cut’s] article is making you think, we are not getting paid low wages by independent media ventures, we’re getting paid low wages from corporations who have the money.”

British fashion commentator Ayọ̀ Òjó aka Fashion Roadman (Opens in a new window) took a similar stance, urging critics to think carefully about where their frustration is aimed. “Recho Omondi is running a small organisation she’s helping grow and is a key voice in fashion that isn’t stifled by advertisers,” he said, “compared to Condé Nast, a multi-billion corporation, and they pay their median salary for editorial assistants $17,000 below industry standard and less than what Recho was offering. Before people get mad at Recho, I would like to see people up in arms at every single person big corporations’ unliveable wages.”

Both commentators share an important point: why do we let multinational brands – who can genuinely afford to pay well – off the hook, while dragging a smaller independent player in the comments?

What fashion really pays

To understand why this discourse has been so heated, it helps to look at what salaries in fashion actually look like. Data from Fashionista’s most recent salary survey (Opens in a new window) shows the average fashion salary in the US hovers around $111,200, but that number conceals a lot. Media roles average closer to $93,770, PR comes in around $108,770, and corporate fashion jobs shoot up to $157,570. The pay gap across gender and race remains stark: men reported earning an average of $152,000 compared to women’s $91,000, while Black and Hispanic/Latinx respondents earned significantly less than their white peers, averaging in the low $80Ks. For entry-level workers, the story is grimmer still. Starting salaries hover just above $50,000, meaning Omondi’s role, while low, wasn’t wildly out of step with industry norms.

In the UK, the picture looks different. A £50,000 salary is considered a solid wage for an editorial or studio role, especially since healthcare isn’t tied to employment. Freelance fashion writers in London often work on day rates between £150–£400, according to 1 Granary (Opens in a new window). That means full-time freelance work can stretch from £39K to £100K a year – though, as anyone freelancing knows, those “full-time” months are rarely consistent, and late payments are a constant stress.

Vogue Business has tracked the rise of freelance labour in fashion (Opens in a new window), noting that while freelancing can offer independence, it has also exacerbated insecurity: inconsistent contracts, no sick pay, and burnout are now common. This makes the lack of benefits in Omondi’s listing sting all the more. If even full-time jobs replicate the precariousness of freelance work, then what stability is anyone supposed to find?

“Hustle culture” can't pay rent

Unfortunately, Omondi responded to the backlash by leaning into the familiar narrative of hustle culture. She highlighted her own early experiences of working long hours for little pay, presenting the $55,000 role as an opportunity she could offer within her independent platform. Her defence emphasised that small ventures operate under real financial constraints, and that the role offered more than many entry-level positions at larger companies, which often fail to provide adequate pay or benefits.

However, not everyone found this justification convincing. Taking to her Instagram story, renowned stylist and contributing fashion editor at British Vogue, Jeanie Annan-Lewin (Opens in a new window) aka Jeanius, offered a sharp critique: “Some of you don’t want change. You just want your seat. The goal is to get in the room, ask why you’re the only ‘other’ there, and do what you can to change the room. Not join in the toxic bullshit.”

She went on to explain that fashion already shuts out so much talent, recycling the same middle-tier, mostly white names while fresh voices are blocked by money and access. To her, Omondi’s decision to replicate exploitative pay practices was not just disappointing but actively regressive. “Recho isn’t interested in dismantling the system,” Annan-Lewin wrote. “She wants to run the same exploitation play.”

Personally, I’d love to know what Annan-Lewin is doing to address wage inequality in her own workplace, but her point underscores the tension online: while Omondi is navigating a small business with limited resources, the replication of underpayment and overwork contributes to the systemic issues that the fashion industry has long struggled with. Defending underpayment as “the way it’s always been” does little to challenge the entrenched structures that block emerging talent from fair opportunities.

Fair or foul-play?

So is the backlash fair? Yes and no. On one hand, critics are right: a three-in-one job with no benefits for $55,000 in New York is hardly a competitive wage. Not only that, it sustains the very cycle of overwork and underpayment that has defined fashion for decades. On the other, expecting a small independent media venture to offer corporate-level salaries is unrealistic. If we are to hold all publications to the same standard, then some of the industry’s best independent platforms would cease to exist. 

Supporters of Omondi, like Òjó and Abdi, highlight the racialised double standard at play: she became the face of low wages in fashion, when in reality she is a symptom of a system that is far larger and far more exploitative. As Abdi noted, “Why is it that our frustrations with capitalism are never channelled towards the people who are actually in positions to change things? Instead, we go after a Black woman who built her own platform and make her the face of our frustration.”

The takeaway? Both things can be true at once. Omondi’s listing wasn’t fair. But the volume and vitriol of the backlash revealed something else: a willingness to punish the visible, smaller player while letting bigger, richer institutions continue unchecked. 

A nuanced approach

Still, it’s important to acknowledge the bind independent ventures face. Running our own independent fashion platform, we understand that this entails juggling limited budgets and competing with corporations whose resources are vast. Hiring even one full-time employee is a significant financial leap. To hold small businesses to the same standards as multi-billion-dollar conglomerates risks cutting off alternative pathways into the industry altogether.

But nuance matters here – indie does not mean exempt from accountability. If every small player defaults to “I can only do what the big guys do” then meaningful change will never happen. At the same time, if we shame or punish independents out of hiring altogether, we only reinforce the monopoly of big corporations. The result: fewer opportunities, less diversity, and a smaller chance for marginalised voices – including working-class, PoC and disabled creatives – to break in.

The role-creep creep

Another piece of this puzzle is role-creep. Omondi’s listing combined multiple jobs into one, something increasingly common across the industry. As almost all British fashion publications shutter or significantly downsize their staff, survivors are forced to accept folded-together roles: editors become social strategists, PR assistants become event managers, stylists become producers. For employers, it’s cost-efficient. For employees, it’s a trap: burnout is inevitable, and newcomers often don’t realise until they’re already stretched thin.

This is why the backlash over Omondi’s role wasn’t just about one listing. It tapped into the exhaustion of an entire industry. Workers are tired of being asked to do more for less, and of being told to feel grateful for the privilege.

So, what are we really debating?

At its core, the Omondi controversy is about fairness in a system designed to be unfair. The anger wasn’t really about $55,000 – it was about who is allowed to enter fashion, and on what terms. For decades, the industry has relied on unpaid internships, underpaid assistants, and under-recognised labour to sustain its image of glamour. That labour has overwhelmingly been subsidised by class and race privilege.

By focusing outrage solely on Omondi, the discourse risks missing the point. Fairness in fashion cannot be achieved by shaming individuals alone – it requires structural change. But structural change also requires individuals, especially those with platforms, to model better practices.

Navigating fair pay as an emerging creative

Here’s what emerging creatives can take away from this debate:

• Know the numbers: Research benchmarks – salary surveys, freelance rate guides, and conversations with peers – so you have context when negotiating.
  

• Evaluate the whole package: Consider benefits, career growth, and flexibility, not just base salary. Remember: $55,000 in NYC with no healthcare is not the same as £50,000 in London with more publicly-provided services.
  

• Spot role-creep early: If the job description reads like three roles in one, ask questions about prioritisation and expectations.
  

• Understand when you need to walk away: No creative job should compromise your survival. Work out your personal bottom line.
  

• Build collective knowledge: Share wage information with trusted peers, join public spreadsheets and online forums such as Glassdoor, and push for transparency. Collective awareness strengthens everyone’s bargaining power.
  

• Differentiate small vs. large employers: Expect more from corporations with deep pockets. Hold independents accountable, but recognise their different realities, to give space for growth and scaled improvements.
  

• Keep the bigger picture in mind: Fair pay is about more than individual survival – it’s about opening doors for the next generation behind you, including disabled, working-class, PoC and diverse voices who will reshape fashion’s future.