Sophia East




On this page you will find an array of my writing – from made-up ads, to poems, to stories. Enjoy.

Great Dane Furniture

Remember when we made that fort at midnight? Our giggles woke our parents up.

Remember our two-chair staircase that led to the lolly jar?

Do you remember Grandma’s chair? The one the dog always barked at when we wheeled it out?

We used to love climbing into Mum and Dad’s bed in the morning. It was like sleeping in a cloud, you always said.

The Lava Game! We jumped from couch to couch like the heroes the world would never know.

The secret draw of secret stuff.

Hiding in the cabinet when Mum and Dad fought.

Playing in boxes during ‘the big move’.

Keeping Mum company when she lay alone in her bed.

Setting the table for Dad because he was useless at it.

Missing Grandma’s chair every second week.

We're much older now.

You got Grandma’s chair.

I got the secret draw of secret stuff.

And our kids make forts at midnight.


Great Dane Furniture
Made with stories in mind



The music pumps, as do the fists

The primal yells united

Secret smiles and electric shocks

As we strip down our armour to bare our souls

We ditch our suits, our daily lives

Giving into letting go

Our eyes look up in unison

For that moment there is no moment

We are one and we are the same

We are alive


We live for live


Radio Adverts 

These are promotional spots for television programming that I wrote and produced for five major New Zealand radio stations in 2011. It's these spots that really started my passion for a Copywriting career.  


When the sky breaks down

I hate the rain

Little ice cold pin pricks fall from grey

Arrogant wind making stillness dance 

The dull blur of lights seen from a sea of black shells

Looking down, fast splashes, no time to stop

Come home, shoes off, limbs defrost

The homely hum of the dryer, steam licking the walls

Curl up, book in hand, a secret smile

Nature's lullaby puts me to sleep

I love the rain



Life is full of sighs

The sigh of relief when you find your parents in a crowded place.

The sigh of a broken heart when you first experience rejection.

The sigh of pride when you see your child receive an award.

The sigh of utter disbelief when you look into the eyes of your first love.

Everything has a sigh behind it; a busy day at work,

A beautiful day at the beach.

A simple street welcoming home its residents.

And when we say our final goodbye

We shouldn’t mourn our last breath.

But rather celebrate our last sigh.

Because life is full of sighs.





Thoughts twist and turn into a tangled mess

Of fun and moons and clowns and stress.

Puppies attack and flowers bite.

You lose your mind to imagined light.


Hand yourself in to the velvet air

And talk to the things that really aren’t there.

Let the veiny vines entangle your brain

Until you wake and can hear the rain.


Waiting for coffee

I could tell she was different straight away. Not because of her hair or her clothes (though the splash of colour in a group of grey was enough to hold my gaze). It was the way her eyes seemed to dance. They told me that she had a secret. A secret she would so willingly share if only people looked up from their hypnotising screens of self indulgence, or tear away from the monotonous drone of the "who can do it better?" conversations. She kept it to herself though, the secret. You could see it playing on her lips, enticing you to smile along as if you knew the reason. 

I played it cool as she asked (almost sang) for her flat white. I almost didn’t hear her. The eyes were distracting me. 

I handed over her coffee and she smiled a silent thank you. We held a gaze I would later come to liken to looking directly at the sun – both mesmerising and painful.

Then she was gone. Her and her beautiful secret. 




The below is an account of my first exposure to advertising. I am keeping it here as a constant reminder to myself of that enthusiasm and ferocious vivacity I came into this industry with. Every time I read this, I am reminded to never lose my passion, not to get bogged down in little things and to always, always follow my passion. 


My first day at The Works was a bit different than most – it was five others' first day too. We were all Interns, you see. I was first in the waiting room and commented on how nice the view was to the HR Director while she scoped me out from the end of the table. The five others trickled in, all commenting on the view and saying hello to each other, making sure to keep eye contact and a big smile to make the best first impression. We all agreed that the view was indeed great.

I love awkward moments. It gives me a chance to do some personal grooming – in this case I cleaned the dirt from behind my nails.

After cleaning four nails, a bright “Alright?!” pierced the nervous, mindless chatter as a confident British man with unkempt hair strolled in eating vegemite on toast. This would become our God. This was Kevin Macmillan.

In this story, God swears a lot.

After a long day of putting us all to the ultimate creative tests through ten-minute sessions of briefing, brainstorming and presenting, three of us were chosen to come back for the next four weeks. When I got the call to tell me I had made it, utter elation flooded my veins. You can just imagine how I felt after four weeks, when I was asked to come back as part of the top two.

I’m Sophia East. Intern. And now out-turned. I've been in media for many years, but unfortunately took the wrong path at the start (I like to call it the path of regret, denial and Salsa Doritos). My chance to redirect this path came with the above-mentioned internship. Suddenly, instead of sucking all life and spirit out of adverts by allocating them a unique number and putting that number into an empty slot on a compujhvvvvvvv yrdyf h jjhgjhgjg vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Sorry my head just hit the keyboard repeatedly off its own accord.

Anyway, instead of that, I was suddenly able to use my mind through.. get ready for it.. 


Beautiful word.

I have always been creative, but that part of my brain had been dormant for quite a while to make way for the regret, denial and Salsa Doritos. But now, it's called to action every day after waiting so patiently over the years. It will never go back into its slumber.

In my internship, I was surrounded by interesting stories, amazing minds and encouraging words. I discovered that there is a whole creative sub-culture out there who meet up regularly and even serve free food and drinks - which incidentally are my two favourite things.

I have always been a confident person, but I will never forget my first presentation to a client. It was for Virgin Money. My first internal review for my ideas for this client didn't go too well due to me being a bit sick (by sick I mean hungover – whenever you’re sick in advertising, you’re hungover. Unless you’re pregnant). But I managed to redeem myself last minute by chucking in completely new ideas that the Swearing God deemed acceptable for presentation. We went to the Virgin Money offices and prepared to present. I was the last one to do so and as I was listening to the other interns talk I got more and more nervous. Which is funny because I knew half the people there, the clients were really lovely and we all used to shit ourselves when we were toddlers. My turn came and I did pretty well. I was confident in my ideas and they were later chosen for the campaign. Afterwards I called my Mum up (she’s in New Zealand and is always cold) and blabbed on for an hour like an excited school girl with a crush.

The 9 weeks I was in that internship felt much the same. I felt like every day I was learning something new – not only about advertising, but about myself. I surprised myself and slowly grew more confident that, actually, I could do this for a living and be good at it.

At the end of it all, I made a deal with Creativity – it can have a long and comfortable residency in the right side of the brain in exchange for unwavering passion. And it's with this passion that I am here today fully charged, capable and willing to succumb to any path thatadvertising may take me. As long as it’s free of those bloody Salsa Doritos.