Simon Joyce, Emotive CEO & Founder: Never Stop Founding: 10 Years Behind the Curtain of Indie Life.
Written by Simon Joyce, Emotive CEO & Founder
Ten years.
It’s a lifetime in agency years.
That’s how long it’s been since I founded Emotive.
In this game, ten years is rare air. Not just because of the work, the clients, or the culture you build, but because so few independents make it this far. I’m told only five percent of indie agencies in Australia survive a decade on their own. I get why. It’s brutal, it’s beautiful, and there’s nothing quite like it.
So as Emotive turns ten, I’ve been thinking about what it’s really taken to get here, and what keeps it going.
The Beginning
I wasn’t the usual creative agency founder. My background was on the media side, running an ad-funded content company called MCM Entertainment. After an unexpected exit that gifted me nine months of gardening leave, I suddenly had time and the itch to start something new.
Emotive began as a content agency before evolving into the creative agency it is today. Smart strategy. Big ideas. But all brought to life through film-led storytelling. I felt traditional creative agencies had lost sight of the audience, focusing on interruption rather than entertainment. I wanted to flip that.
So on February 5, 2015, a new indie launched when it wasn’t cool to be indie. We set up by the beach, not for the view, but as a quiet signal that we’d do things a little differently. Because there’s something about the ocean that makes creativity feel freer.
We found a tiny space on Bernie Street in Clovelly. One room. One bathroom. Eight people jammed in. The Clovelly Hotel was our boardroom with an ADSL2 internet connection barely made it through a Zoom call.
Emotive launch HQ: 39 Burnie Street, Clovelly
And one brief: Four Seasons Condoms.
The challenge was to leverage their sponsorship of Mardi Gras.
Two weeks. Ten grand. Three grand in media. Big organic reach was a must.
The idea: “Are you coming this Mardi Gras? Stay safe with Four Seasons Condoms.”
Our first social video. Street casting on Oxford Street with only beer money for talent payment.
And somehow, it worked.
Four Seasons Condoms: February 2015
Then came our lucky break. We intercepted an opportunity with Optus for the launch of their Netflix bundle. Thirteen days later, we delivered part one of a four-part anti-ad series starring Ricky Gervais, arguably the most honest telco campaign this country had ever seen. Three months later, we had our first Cannes Lion.
This campaign also gave us our first heartstopping moment. In the rush of delivery, we sent the wrong edit to the client – the one they loved but Ricky refused to approve. For 48 hours, it felt like the kind of mistake agencies don’t come back from.
Ricky Gervais Anti Ad: March 2015
The Tamarama Years
With momentum building, although we were still losing money, it was time to move. Beachside was non-negotiable. We found what many people thought was a haunted house on Kenneth Street in Tamarama. Zoned for residential use only, it became part agency, part production space, part frat house. I have to admit, being there late at night definitely felt eerie.
Emotive’s 2nd HQ: 8 Kenneth Street, Tamarama
We got away with it for five years before someone finally complained. That house became our culture incubator. Big ideas. Late nights. Questionable parties. And through all the chaos, something real took shape.
Lee Lin Chin hosts Emotive’s 2nd Birthday party in the backyard at Tamarama: March 2017
Those early years were full of energy, but also doubt. How do we make this sustainable? How do we keep this awesome team employed when they’ve all taken a risk to join? How do we not screw this up?
That’s the thing no one tells you about independence: it’s all-consuming. There’s no plan B. Your career, finances, family, self-worth, and team security are completely tied to this thing you’re building. The pressure never really goes away; you just learn to live with it. And maybe even love it, in a weird way.
The Highs and Lows
I won’t take you through every chapter, but after ten years, perhaps I’ve earned the right to share a few highlights and lowlights. Or let’s call them resilience-building moments.
The Michael Bolton gig at The Beresford for Audible still makes me laugh. Watching a Grammy winner belt out an ad we re-wrote from Said I Loved You But I Lied to Said I Read You But I Lied in a room full of slightly-too-intoxicated ad people was both absurd and glorious. Too far? Probably. But bloody fun.
Michael Bolton live at the Beresford for Audible: 2018
Then there are the moments that hit deeper. The pitch rooms where everyone’s all in. Not because they have to be, but because they believe in what they’re creating. That feeling’s hard to beat – it’s why you keep doing it long after logic tells you to stop.
And then there are the gut punches. Losing a cornerstone client after a decade, in our case Optus earlier this year, cuts deep. But with hindsight, it was a turning point. It forced us to re-found, to double down on our purpose, to remind ourselves why we exist.
There are quieter lows too. The guilt of being physically home but mentally still at the office. The heartbreak of good people moving on. The relentless watch on cashflow – and the irony that it’s usually the biggest clients that make you wait the longest.
I’m lucky to have the most beautiful family who have been incredibly supportive of Emotive – my wife Tarnia and three kids Lucas, Kalan and Milla – but I know the all-consuming pull of Emotive often got in the way of deeper connection. That’s the part I didn’t always get right. I’ve definitely improved, but there’s still work to do.
The Truth About Indie Life
If you want stability, don’t start an indie.
If you want a normal life, don’t start an indie.
If you can’t handle losing your biggest client overnight, don’t start an indie.
If the saying “you’re three phone calls from disaster” makes you sweat, definitely don’t start an indie.
But if none of that scares you, then absolutely take the jump.
It will give you every possible emotion. It might work, it might not, but for those who make that leap, I have nothing but respect.
And the same goes for the people who take the leap with you at the start. I’m proud that ten years on, so many of that original crew are still here – Ben Keep (COO), Alison Daly (Business and Marketing Director), Zane Pearson (Director), Hayley-Ritz Pelling (Head of Production) and Sam Gadsten (Head of Post). They’ve been nothing short of extraordinary. When you spend more time with these people than your own family, you realise just how deep that bond runs.
And that’s what makes it all worthwhile. Watching teammates grow, take risks, back themselves. Seeing sixteen kids born in ten years. Feeling the rush of a first big win, the spark of a great idea, the buzz of a client call saying the campaign is smashing it beyond expectations. Partnering with clients who’ve stuck with us through thick and thin – many from year one – proof that the best work comes from the deepest relationships. And standing in our Coogee office thinking this might just be the best creative agency office in the world, with a team that always outcares the opposition.
Emotive team out the front of Coogee HQ 2025
The Next Emotive Chapter
A decade in, my biggest learning is this: founding isn’t something you did once. It’s something you do every day.
You re-invent. You re-learn. You re-invest in people, ideas and purpose.
You don’t get the luxury of slow transformation plans. You live in permanent beta. Always recalibrating. Always asking what’s next. Not because you’re broken, but because standing still is the fastest way to disappear.
The world doesn’t need more agencies. But if you’re going to have a crack, bring that Never Stop Founding mindset. Be willing to fall hard and get back up with the same hunger you had on day one.
Because if there’s one truth about indie life, it’s this:
Standing still kills.
And after ten years, I still feel like we’re just getting started.