In the world’s current capitalist state, artists exist in an ever-present dilemma: to stay true to their work and acquire little-to-no commercial success, or, sacrifice a part of themselves to adjust within a cold and indifferent market. This is a question beyond moral value, it is a question of survival; if I make the art I want, will I be able to pay my bills? Fashion illustrator and designer Julie Verhoeven seems to hold the answer in her paint-stained, costume-ring cladded hands.

Her chosen method is to submit completely to her artistic tastes, no matter how frivolous or absurd, funnelling them into continuous creation: “I over-research and over-plan, and then when the moment of output kicks in, I allow for instinct and adrenaline to take over”. Through her building blocks of research, page by page, she is able to build up security in her ideas, without which she doesn’t “feel ready to dive into moments of free fall”.

This intricate blend of instinct and preparation has defined the length of Verhoeven's multifaceted career. Despite being largely recognised as a fashion illustrator, collaborating with the likes of Marc Jacobs, Martine Sitbon, Versace, and John Galliano, she is also a prolific artist. Often experimenting with film, her work has taken the form of music videos for Primal Scream, ads for M.A.C. and visual collages for Self Service Magazine. She has also held many sculpture and mixed media exhibits across Europe, the most recent of which, “#postivevibesonly” (2023) at Quench Gallery, features a crazed array of yellow warning signs and a film featuring a nude ginger woman covered in custard. This woman is Verhoeven’s ex-MA design student at Central St. Martins (where she has been a lecturer for almost 30 years), Kelsey Dykes. Kelsey says the artist is “always doing something fun, a lovely mind to work with. She does just about everything”.

According to the Verhoeven philosophy, by researching what one personally enjoys, duties transform into pleasures. For instance, when asked what erotica publications are her favourites, a plethora of titles spring off her tongue eagerly: “Erotoscope by Tomi Ungerer, Oz magazine, Die Masochisten, Dressing For Pleasure, Lui magazine...”. These inspirations feed into her sexually expressive feminist art, which often features female nudity “to gently manipulate the weaker male sex, who are visually so gullible”.

Just as her research process is self-indulgent, so is her art: “I find it somewhat pitiful that [my art], indeed, is a total act of self-indulgence. Without allowing myself this luxury to wallow in my own being, the result would paradoxically be far too self-conscious and tense”.

The uncompromising kaleidoscope of Verhoeven is exactly what makes her such an invaluable creative. By not limiting herself to one medium and embracing extensive self-indulgence, she permits herself to understand the whole truth of her artistic identity; a skill many new artists ought to learn from. As her ex-student Kelsey affirms: “She taught me to always push myself to do what I wanted, as much as I wanted”. Following Verhoeven’s approach to art can teach creatives that becoming confident in their own tastes will, in exchange, build up a pattern of self-sufficiency in their work.

This apparent confidence does not mean Verhoeven has never faced setbacks in her career. In fact, it was her two-time rejection from studying design at Central St. Martins that motivated her application to various internships, in turn landing the role of John Galliano’s first-ever assistant. Not such a set back after all. This brings us to the other key to Julie Verhoeven’s success: diligence. “I had zero design studio experience... I had to learn fast on the job, which set me in good stead with a steely work ethic”. Explaining how her perseverance stemmed from her time working in Galliano’s atelier, she elaborates: “in retrospect, not being accepted twice was the best decision that happened to me”. In fact, it was her uncompromising self belief that led her to secure a tutoring position at the very school that turned down her portfolio more than a decade prior. This underscores the importance of resilience in the face of adversity, a quality Verhoeven feels young creatives should seek to acquire.

The element of survival cannot be underestimated as a factor in the necessity of a constant production of art, as she confesses: “the main battle for me is time. I want to, and have to do it all to survive financially and mentally”. This is an undeniable truth of the creative industry and yet leaves her no less optimistic nor engaged in her work. 

This optimism is apparent in her ardent collaborations with various brands (ie. Louis Vuitton, Cacharel, Mulberry, etc.), where she proficiently marries both the brand's values and her own vision. When questioned whether this commercialisation diminishes her artistic integrity, she states: “Personal work and commercial work feed off and influence each other, and I enjoy that dynamic”. She goes on to explain how creating within the constraints of a project permits her to grow: “I’m happy and grateful always to get commercial work and enjoy working to the challenge of a brief”. The capacity to bridge art and business is a skill many young artists wince at, but Verhoeven understands that the balance of both can be integral to stability: “I'm so driven and quietly amused in my personal work, I don’t need affirmation elsewhere”.

In essence, Julie Verhoeven's journey underscores the power of resilience and self-indulgence in crafting a career that seamlessly intertwines passion with pragmatism. Through strong diligence—but never restraining her desires—Julie Verhoeven has created the space for herself to, almost always, do exactly what she wants.