Amsterdam’s Hiring Freeze Made Me a Better Creative

A week before I was set to arrive in Amsterdam, I received a sobering email from my sole contact in the Netherlands. He advised me to delay my move. A hiring freeze loomed over Amsterdam’s advertising industry.

Flight booked, house packed, I had to make a choice: stay in Melbourne, where the food scene is one of the best in the world, or take a risk on some herring.

I chose the pickled fish. Here are five things I learnt.

I knew moving to the Netherlands would be a challenge. I didn’t speak Dutch. Worse, I didn’t own a raincoat. Throw in a hiring freeze and I was in for an up-hill battle. Figuratively of course – Amsterdam is famously flat.

Still, I arrived confident. I had over five years of experience, a couple of shiny awards, and work that made Mum proud. How hard could it be? Well.

Pretty quickly, I felt the harsh winds of the hiring freeze. Horror stories began to emerge: seasoned creatives scrambling for work after unexpected redundancies. Burned expats enduring six rounds of interviews only for the role to vanish.

Many returned home after six months of relentless searching. Others tried their luck in London and New York.

Despite the freeze, this famously flat city won my heart. So I chose to fight for it.

When I moved to Amsterdam, I knew one person. How humbling. I had taken for granted the connections I’d built back home through university, work, and industry events. Suddenly, I was back at square one.

Thankfully, Aussies abroad have a knack for finding each other. We laughed (and cried) over the chaos of settling in—from endless paperwork to deciphering Dutch “hospitality.”

My one industry connection, a friend-of-a-friend and creative director at a digital agency, took me under his wing. He helped me find an apartment during the rental crisis and introduced me to key players in the industry. I met with as many people as I could, showing my book and soaking up advice.

Slowly, I began to build a network, making contacts at 180, 72&Sunny, ACE, AKQA, Adidas, Booking, Boomerang, Cheil Benelux, Côte d’Azur, Dentsu, Dept, Droga5, Hatter, Heineken, Lego, LePub, Monks, Ogilvy, Publicis, Polaroid, Soursop, TBWA/Neboko, Wieden+Kennedy, and Zero Trillion.

I'm so grateful to everyone who took the time to meet with me, especially those who offered their support. I look forward to doing the same for others.

The hiring freeze wasn’t thawing. Worse, whenever I mentioned the word visa, people reacted as if I’d asked them about their love life—big faux pas. So, I took up work as a part-time barista.

I couldn’t help but doubt myself. I’d spent years trying to break into the industry, and here I was making coffees outside of it. I had to remind myself that working in a different industry didn’t diminish who I was as a creative.

In fact, it made me more inspired to get creative about staying a creative. At the cafe, I became a sponge for human insights, immersing myself in Dutch culture.

I pursued freelance opportunities locally and globally, waking up at odd hours to tackle briefs.

I entered Young Dogs competitions, the Amsterdam equivalent of Young Lions, featuring an equal parts thrilling and exciting 24-hour brief for the Heineken Experience.

The unexpected detour reminded me that being creative isn’t just a job title—it’s a mindset.

As anyone who’s been job-hunting knows, rejection is part of the deal. But I refused to let it define my experience.

Living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, it felt absurd to dwell on what I couldn't control. I knew I had to be proactive. I couldn't just sit around waiting for opportunities; I had to create them.

So, I said yes to as many things as I could, from industry talks and events like Adnight and Adfest to shots of Salmari (not for the faint-hearted) and swimming in the questionable waters of the Amstel.

Saying yes led to me one of the greatest opportunities I had in Amsterdam, assisting the ADCN jury for the Dutch Creativity Awards. Spending a day with the best creative minds in the Netherlands, listening to their passionate debates on what makes ideas award-worthy, was a rare peek behind the curtain.

I was starting to realise that while I couldn’t control the job market, I still had control over my experience.

Excuses are easy: "The timing isn't right." "One more campaign first." "After this project." We always find reasons to avoid taking the leap. But what if you just jumped?

During a particularly rough week (my bike was stolen, a rite of passage I was told), my yoga instructor offered a simple truth: "Seeds grow in the dark." It hit home. I was that seed. I moved across the world with no job or connections. But I grew. I embraced the unknown, built resilience, chased opportunities, and asked for help.

I learned to order a beer in Dutch “een biertje, alsjeblieft”, cycled through storms (sometimes hands-free!), discovered hidden European gems, and even got yelled at in Italian. Experiences I wouldn't trade.

The dark is daunting, but essential for growth.

Amsterdam wasn't what I expected—life rarely is. The hiring freeze, the grey skies, the Dutch directness... Some days I doubted my decision. But I loved it. It pushed me, shaped me, and made me a more resilient, resourceful creative.

Let's grab a biertje. I'll tell you the other 95 lessons I learned. Proost!