For our Financial Transparency theme, independent design executive and educator Rachel Gogel gets into navigating pay disparities, pricing for value, and why true success lies in unlocking human energy, not just income. Rachel Gogel’s career spans some of the most recognisable names in publishing and tech – GQ, The New York Times, Meta – and now, as an independent creative executive, she brings that experience to startups, nonprofits, and purpose-driven ventures alike. But the journey to building a financially sustainable, values-led practice wasn’t always smooth. From $12-an-hour gigs to leading multimillion-dollar design teams, Rachel has faced the realities of wage gaps, client pushback, and burnout culture head-on. In this powerful Q&A, she shares the hard-earned lessons that shaped her pricing philosophy, the tools that helped her take control, and why choosing impact over scale is her definition of success. How did you learn to navigate pricing, salaries, or negotiations in your field? My journey with pricing started from a place of absolute uncertainty. After graduating during the 2009 recession amid a hiring freeze, I took an internship at Diane von Furstenberg for about $20 a day, just trying to get my foot in the door. When they later offered me $12 an hour as a “full-time freelancer,” I thought that was a normal starting point! My first real design contract at Travel + Leisure was $20/hour—which felt like a fortune compared to my internship. Around the same time, I quoted a WordPress project for GQ at $60/hour, originally estimating it would take only 15 hours (I was way off). I still remember sending that first email, nervously suggesting just $900 for the entire project. My contact called me immediately to say, “This is not my money, this is GQ’s money. You should have a $1,000 down payment for taking on the project, then charge an hourly rate after that.” That conversation was a trigger to start taking myself more seriously. With each career move, I learned to negotiate better. From my $70,000 base starting salary at GQ (which I barely negotiated because I was so excited about the offer), to $120,000 as Creative Director at The New York Times, to $230,000 plus stock and bonuses at Facebook—each step taught me to advocate for my worth. When I officially launched my independent design business in 2020, I had this history to draw from, but establishing consistent pricing still involved a lot of trial and error. What transformed my approach was implementing a time tracker (I use Toggl) which helped me gather real data on how long projects actually take versus my estimates. This was eye-opening and gave me confidence in pricing conversations. Today, I maintain a sliding scale across client types and engagement models. My fractional executive work commands $375/hour, while nonprofits start at $200/hour. For my Airbnb creative director maternity coverage contract (40 hours weekly), I’ve structured a $200/hour rate with $300/hour overtime. I’ve also diversified beyond hourly rates to include day rates and project-based fees tailored to specific services. The biggest shift came when I stopped thinking about charging purely for hours and started charging for value—my unique perspective, expertise, and what the work will do for a client’s business. As Jessica Strelioff from Goodside puts it: “We built Goodside to do good work for good people but we also built it to fit into the lives we want to live. Staying small is hard but it’s worth it and it’s what works for us.” This resonated deeply with me as I’ve built a practice focused on quality and impact rather than size. Have you ever experienced pay disparity or financial challenges in your career? Absolutely. Early in my career, I discovered through casual conversations that male colleagues with similar or even less experience were making substantially more than me. That realization was both infuriating and motivating—it pushed me to become more assertive in negotiations and more transparent about compensation (see my Contractor Wrapped 2024 on LinkedIn). Throughout my career trajectory, being a woman in this industry has come with distinct financial challenges. I’ve been challenged during salary negotiations and requests for promotions in ways my male colleagues haven’t. As an independent practitioner, I’ve received comments about being “too expensive” from potential clients—feedback that often makes me wonder if male creatives face the same resistance. These micro-aggressions around compensation reinforce why I encourage women—and all marginalized voices—at every stage of their careers to talk more openly about money so we can help each other get paid equitably. Going independent came with its own financial challenges. The feast-or-famine cycle hit hard, especially in 2023 when clients rescinded contracts and my projected income fell short by about $40K from what I had forecasted. There were months when I questioned everything about my business model. But these challenges taught me to build financial resilience—creating a robust emergency fund, diversifying income streams through teaching and speaking engagements, and being much more strategic about planning for both busy and quiet periods. I’ve had to acknowledge the privilege embedded in my trajectory too—being a 37-year-old white woman in a dual-income household has allowed me to capitalise on opportunities not available to all. The volatility can be stressful, but I’ve learned that transparency about these challenges helps others prepare for similar situations. What’s the best piece of financial advice you’ve received as a creative professional? “If you’re not embarrassed by the amount you’re asking for, you’re not asking for enough.” A friend told me this early in my career, and it completely changed my approach to negotiations. As creatives, especially those of us who identify as women, we often undervalue our contributions. This advice pushed me to recognise my worth and ask for compensation that reflects not just my time, but the unique perspective I bring as a designer working at the intersection of brand, culture, and technology. When I transitioned from in-house roles to founding my San Francisco-based solo consultancy, this advice became even more crucial. What’s often left unsaid is that going independent can be financially empowering—especially for those historically underpaid in conventional roles. By setting our own rates and being transparent about money, we’re not just making a living—we’re thriving. While the business logistics may seem daunting (incorporation, taxes, insurance), the real breakthrough is mental: realising we have the ability to create sustainable businesses on our own terms, often matching or exceeding previous full-time compensation. How do you balance making a living with doing work that feels meaningful? I visualise my work as a Venn diagram of activities that bring me joy, generate income, and create impact. The sweet spot is where all three overlap, but I don’t expect every project to hit that trifecta. My consulting work (about 45% of my time) provides financial stability and allows me to be selective about other opportunities. I deliberately allocate time for teaching at California College of the Arts (15%), mentoring and volunteering (20% combined), and both speaking and writing (20% combined). While these non-consulting activities may not always be as financially lucrative, they fulfill my desire to support the next generation of creatives, contribute to causes I believe in, and share my perspective with wider audiences. I’ve learned to say no to projects that might pay well but don’t align with my values or wouldn’t allow me to do my best work. This has sometimes meant walking away from significant income, but it’s preserved my energy for more meaningful opportunities like collaborating with women-founded ventures such as A Space, In Between, Acora, Anew, and Chicken & Egg Films. Success isn’t necessarily about scaling up, and growth doesn’t always mean expansion. For me, it means intentionally keeping things small and intimate. There’s power in being selective; there’s wisdom in recognizing that sometimes, less is more—especially in a society that subconsciously breeds burnout, and women especially are not giving themselves permission to rest. As Jacqueline Novogratz, Founder and CEO of Acumen, once asked: “What if we measured true success not by the amount of money you have, but by the amount of human energy you unlock, the amount of potential you enable? If that were our metric, our world would be a different place.” This question has become central to how I approach my solo venture. For me, it’s always been about depth of impact rather than breadth of reach.