Booked, Busy & Broke: The Dark Side of Not Getting Paid
We need to talk about how 'net 30' has become 'net whenever'—and how it quietly wrecks your cash flow, energy, and trust.
Let’s start here: there’s a belief—sometimes said, sometimes just heavily implied—that if you’re lucky enough to do what you love, then getting paid is basically a bonus. But that logic falls apart the second you look at how much money changes hands in this industry. Beauty is a business. A big one. A global one. From product launches to fashion weeks to glossy campaigns, there’s a whole economy built on the back of creative labour. A lot of people profit from it. So when we talk about late payments—or worse, unpaid ones—it’s not a personal gripe. It’s a professional problem
Because what’s really being implied when creatives aren’t paid is that their labour is optional. That their joy in the work should be compensation enough. And honestly? That narrative needs to go.
Let’s talk about something that happens far too often and gets brushed off as just “part of the job”: late payments.
Not slow payments. Not awkward admin. I mean straight-up: you've worked, delivered, invoiced—and then silence. No response, no update, no money in your account.
And it doesn’t just mess with your calendar—it messes with your rent, bills and peace of mind.
This week, I chased a client who’s now 66 days overdue. I have another pushing 160. And yet, I catch myself wanting to clarify that other clients are paying me—like I need to soften the blow or prove I’m still ‘doing well.’ Which is wild. Why do I feel the need to cushion the reality of not getting paid for completed work? That’s the level of gaslighting that runs through this industry—where the problem becomes your attitude rather than their actions. (And yes, gaslighting is the right word. It’s when you’re made to question your own version of events, even when you’re holding the proof in your inbox.)
Legally, I can add interest and a late fee. Emotionally, I just want the damn money. Professionally, I’m walking the tightrope between being polite and getting paid.
So here’s what I’ve learned—legally, practically, and personally—about handling late payments without losing your cool (or your dignity).
The Freelance Time Warp
“Payment terms: 14 days.” Sounds great, right? Until the due date comes and goes, and your email gets ignored.
Sometimes the brand pays a week late. Sometimes it’s a month. Sometimes you’re chasing someone in accounts who didn’t even know you existed. And in between? You're covering the cost of living, commuting, products, and tax. It's death by a thousand delays.
One invoice being late can be annoying. Three or four? That’s your financial stability out the window.
Know Your Rights (UK-specific)
Here’s the part they don’t teach you: as a freelancer, you're legally allowed to charge interest and late fees.
Under the Late Payment of Commercial Debts (Interest) Act 1998, you can charge 8% plus the Bank of England base rate (currently 5.25%). That’s 13.25% annually.
You can also charge a fixed late payment fee:
£40 for invoices up to £999
£70 for invoices between £1000 and £9,999
£100 for invoices over £10,000
You can calculate what you are owed here and simply re-invoice or send a notice with the updated figures.
The Emotional Toll
Chasing money you’ve already earned is exhausting.
There’s the stress, and the shame. There’s fear of burning bridges. There’s that awful, queasy feeling that you’re being difficult just for asking to be paid. And if you’re not being paid on time and you’re doing it all solo—no agent, no accounts team—it wears you down.
Late payment isn’t just a cashflow issue. It’s a confidence drain. A creative block. A slow-burning form of disrespect.
And yes—sometimes, it's the agent you're chasing. And that’s just as maddening. It can feel like you have to justify why you want to be paid for work you’ve already done. You're often handed off to an “accounts team,” but who are they, really? We assume they’re qualified, we hope they’re operating above board. But many of us have heard the stories—or lived them—about agencies closing down overnight with a pile of unpaid invoices and a party problem no one wants to talk about. It’s not just frustrating. It’s destabilising.
Even if you’re with an agency that’s genuinely on top of things—transparent, professional, and trustworthy—they’re not immune to the wider industry's attitude of using and abusing creatives. Sometimes it’s the brand who delays, sometimes it’s internal politics, and sometimes it's just a systemic rot that treats payment like an afterthought. And when you’re stuck in the middle, agency or not, it still lands on you to carry the financial fallout.
Why We Don’t Talk About It (But Should)
We whisper about late payers. We share names in DMs. But we don’t call it out publicly, because we’re scared of being seen as unprofessional, or worse—unhirable.
The irony? Brands rely on our silence. Because it keeps them safe from accountability.
But if more of us knew the law, used it, and supported each other, we could slowly make it unacceptable to treat creatives this way.
Scripts + Strategies
If you’re dealing with a late payment now, here’s what I recommend:
Day 1 past due: Send a friendly reminder. Attach the invoice again.
Day 14 past due: Follow up with a firmer tone. Let them know it’s overdue and ask for a specific payment date.
Day 30+: Send a legal-style notice. Include interest and late fee calculations. Make it clear you're within your rights.
Here’s a script you can use:
"As payment is now overdue by more than 30 days, I am entitled under the Late Payment of Commercial Debts (Interest) Act 1998 to apply interest and a statutory compensation fee. If payment is made by [insert date], I’m happy to waive the late fees."
If Chasing Isn’t Your Thing—Outsource It
Let’s be real. Not everyone has the stomach, the agent —or the time—to chase down unpaid invoices.
If the idea of confrontation makes you cringe, hire someone. Pay a fellow freelancer or a no-nonsense friend to chase your payments twice a month. Give them your outstanding invoices, a bit of context, and let them do the admin dance while you get back to your actual job. Ideally, someone who won’t flinch at a 'just circling back!' email or get shy when it’s time to send the fourth reminder. This isn’t about being aggressive—it’s about being efficient. Delegating this part of your business doesn’t make you less professional, it makes you less exhausted.
Think of it as emotional outsourcing: a buffer between you and the burnout. Someone else gets to be “that person” so you can be the one doing the work you actually trained for.
Attitudes Are Changing (Slowly)
There’s a quiet shift happening. Some brands are getting faster at paying freelancers—especially solo traders—because the PR risk of being called out is real. They’re realising that being seen as flaky or untrustworthy with money doesn’t land well in an industry that thrives on relationships, loyalty, and reputation. A few are even getting ahead of it—paying early, offering transparency, or automating payments so no one has to send that awkward 'just checking in' email. It’s a welcome change.
But the shift isn’t universal. And where one door opens, another slams shut. In other corners of the industry, things are getting messier. Payment terms are getting looser. Comms are slower. The expectation is that freelancers will just absorb the instability—grateful for the booking, even if the money is months away.
It’s a strange duality: more awareness on one side, more apathy on the other. And we’re all just navigating the gap.
Ironically, bigger companies will sometimes pay individuals faster than they pay agencies. I don't know if that's the reason, but maybe it is—maybe it's just easier to delay a faceless entity than a freelancer who can publicly say, “Hey, still waiting to be paid.” Especially now, when even a small social following holds weight. You don’t need 100k followers to have influence. A few hundred industry eyes watching your stories? That’s more than enough to make a brand rethink its comms strategy.
Social media gives freelancers leverage. Not because you're threatening to name and shame (although, sometimes…), but because you're visible. Because people talk. A single line in a caption or a subtle nod in a story can travel. Reputation matters, and even the hint of disorganisation can make clients squirm. You can wield that softly—strategically. It’s quiet power, but it works.
The power dynamic is starting to tilt. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress. But there’s also a shift the other way, where companies—and people—feel increasingly disposable. A friend told me her company has faced a wave of unpaid invoices this year simply because clients decided they didn’t want to pay after the work was already delivered. And sure, you can go the legal route—but the energy it takes, the time, the emails, the potential for bad press? It makes even the most organised among us think twice. That kind of unaccountability is creeping in across industries, and it's just as corrosive as silence.
Beyond the Struggle: Power Moves for When You’re Stable
If you’re not chasing payments right now—amazing. Here’s how to build on that momentum:
Review your payment terms and late fee policy. Make it visible. Make it known. And let’s normalise it. There’s nothing aggressive or awkward about having clear boundaries when it comes to getting paid. It’s not diva behaviour—it’s basic business practice.
Automate your invoicing. Use tools that track when clients open your invoice. And explore platforms that offer instant or expedited payment options—some now allow you to receive funds as soon as the invoice is issued, with a small fee taken off the top. It’s not always ideal, but it can bridge the gap in those crunch moments when cash flow is tight. Services like Xero’s ‘Pay Now’ features can make a big difference when timing matters more than margin. It’s not about chasing every penny—it’s about protecting your peace.
Create a buffer fund so a late payment doesn’t destabilise you. Even if it’s small at first, having one or two months of expenses tucked away can make a huge difference when things get stuck in limbo. Call it your ‘freelancer float’—a bit of breathing room between you and panic mode. Pair it with a habit of setting aside a percentage from every payment that does come in on time.
Use your voice. If you’ve been paid on time by a brand, say so. Normalize good behaviour, too. You can do this without being gross or burning bridges. It’s about tone, timing, and context. A quiet shout-out in your stories. A 'thank you for the smooth payment' email. These micro-moves signal that payment culture matters—without making anyone squirm. It's not about fear or finger-pointing. It's about raising the bar in a way that others want to follow, not avoid.
Financial stability in freelance is rare—but when you have it, use it to build structure, support others, and speak openly. That’s how we shift the culture.
And yes, you can speak up without torching your professional relationships. But let’s not pretend it’s a breeze. There’s always that weird tension—say something and risk sounding pushy, or say nothing and quietly stew while your invoice gathers dust. You’re constantly expected to be charming, chill, and easy to work with—but also somehow enforce your boundaries without making anyone squirm. It’s like being a magician and a diplomat at the same time. And yet, we try. Because we shouldn’t have to choose between being liked and being paid.
The trick is to shift the conversation gently. You don’t need to shame people into better behaviour—you just need to show that this stuff matters. Payment terms in your email footer. A low-key story post tagging a client who paid within one week. An email to say "thank you for the swift payment" It sends the signal without setting the place on fire.
We’ve learned to soft-launch products and breakups: a vague caption, a new tag, a cryptic emoji. We can do the same with professional boundaries—make them visible without making them loud. A new clause in your rate card. A pinned post about working terms. A subtle mention in a story about a positive experience with a fast-paying client. These things set expectations without fanfare. They build culture, slowly and surely. And they let people know: payment is part of the professional conversation, not a postscript.
The goal isn’t to scare anyone. The goal is to make fair treatment feel like the norm—not the exception. To remind clients (and fellow freelancers) that paying people on time isn’t a favour. It’s the bare minimum. We shouldn’t have to be quiet to be booked.
When the Work Is Flowing, But the Payments Aren’t
Here’s something we all know: being fully booked doesn’t always mean you’re financially secure. You can have the busiest, most career-defining month—beautiful editorials, back-to-back bookings, the kind of momentum you dream about—and not get paid for any of it. And while you’re loving the work and riding the creative high, deep down you know: you’ll be paying the price for this month’s brilliance in about two months’ time when your rent is due.
That’s why timely payment isn’t just a finance issue—it’s an industry issue. Our timelines are long, but our bills are not. Getting paid on time keeps you creatively agile, not creatively anxious.
You can be working back-to-back shoots, delivering on every brief, and still be one unpaid invoice away from your overdraft. It’s a weird tension—being in demand, excited and exhausted but not seeing the money hit your account.
So if you're feeling that gap right now, you're not alone. Your work ethic isn’t the issue. The system is.
What helps? Honest check-ins with fellow freelancers. Sharing names of reliable payers. And while things like upfront deposits sound like a dream, let’s be honest—they’re not standard in fashion or editorial. You can’t exactly ask for a deposit from a magazine that pays in exposure or 'thanks so much x.'
But staggered payments? Milestone-based fees? These are worth exploring—especially on commercial campaigns, long-format shoots, or high-spec influencer partnerships. Milestone fees simply mean breaking the project into phases—like prep day, shoot day, and social post-delivery for example—and invoicing at each stage. It gives both sides clarity and protects you from doing 100% of the work before seeing a single pound.
Even if the project is short, think about invoicing the day it wraps, or including clear payment checkpoints in your agreement. These micro-adjustments aren’t always possible, but when they are—they make a massive difference. It’s not about rewriting the rules. It’s about reinforcing your own.
It’s not always glamorous, but it’s honest. And that’s what gets you through.
One more thing:
You’re not difficult for asking to be paid. You’re not unprofessional for enforcing your terms. You’re a working creative who deserves respect—and payment. And if that makes someone uncomfortable? That’s not your problem to fix. Respectfully requesting payment isn’t a red flag—it’s a redirection. It reminds everyone involved that creative work is still work, and payment is not a pat on the back—it’s part of the deal.
We know better. And we deserve better.
So if this is happening to you? Stand firm. Use the law. Talk about it. Because silence only protects the people who keep doing it.
If this hit home, forward it to a fellow creative or share it on socials. The more we talk about it, the less power late payments hold
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This is a very important post because it does not just affect you artists, it affects PR's too and I am sure many other sector of our Industry. If everyone respected payment deadlines, we would all also be able to pay others on time. Challenges to Cash Flow, is one of the most significant issues we all experience. If for any reason you are struggling to pay, you must contact the company/person and let them know why and agree a payment plan. That is the only way this pervasive problem will be resolved. Thank you for raising this Ciara.
Thank you! Also last minute cancellation is my favorite game..