What it’s like working in marketing in 2026.

It’s scary. Every day I open my Instagram, YouTube, etc., I’m met with dozens of posts remind me that there is so much bad in the world. So much uncertainty. So much wrong that is happening. And I know that by only experiencing it through the screen of my PC or cell phone, I am privileged. But why doesn’t this privilege feel comfortable? Communities are being terrorized, and the distance doesn’t make it feel any less real. 

There’s a sort of whiplash that comes with our job. We want to make people feel badass, to feel as extraordinary on the outside as they are on the inside. But how can we do that when people are mad and terrified? One minute we’re making silly videos in the office to promote our next venture, the next - I’m watching an Instagram reel of someone killed that I can’t unsee. People are grieving, families and communities shattered, and fear is increasingly the “norm” in a lot of people’s lives. The world doesn’t pause for calendars, and calendars need to continue for business to continue. 

Marketing teaches you to tell stories. To frame narratives. To highlight what matters. But what happens when the truth is ugly? When the story isn’t aspirational or escapist, but horrifying and unjust? It feels dishonest to pretend everything is fine. It feels wrong to keep scrolling, to keep posting, to keep acting like cruelty isn’t happening in real time.

I turn to think of people who aren’t in my shoes. Who can’t just “log off” for the day, get into a video game or their favorite hobby, and try to escape from this reality. I can’t imagine what that must feel like. No one should have to, but that’s not the reality.

Our team talks a lot about community, about belonging, and about building things that make people feel seen, strong, and connected. Moments like these remind us that if our values don’t extend beyond products, they don’t mean anything. Silence might feel safer. Neutrality might feel professional or the “right thing to do for business,” but when harm is happening, silence starts to sound like an agreement with the wrongdoings in the world. 

People matter. They always have to us as individuals and as a company. 

I don’t have a neat solution or proper call to action. What I have is anger, grief, uncertainty, and a deep discomfort of carrying on as usual. Maybe the discomfort is the point. Maybe it’s just that we’re not supposed to feel okay with carrying on as usual. Maybe sitting with that unease is the first step towards refusing to normalize it. 

This isn’t about politics. It’s about humanity. About acknowledging that cruelty, especially when wielded by systems of power, should never be accepted as routine. I know that a clothing brand may not change the world, but I’m proud that we hold honest values, even when it’s uncomfortable.

And if all we can do is help people feel good about themselves in small moments during hard times, then I think that still matters. We’ll keep showing up. We’ll keep creating, because that, too, is a way to help contribute to a society we believe in. A society of creatives where people can be themselves and write their own stories. But we won’t pretend that the world is gentler than it is. Our community deserves honesty. And as long as cruelty exists, so will our refusal to accept it as normal. 

One step at a time,
Sarah (aka Pyra)