‘That’s all’: How Gen Z is redefining work culture 20 years after The Devil Wears Prada

Yash Day, 23, is a Technical Executive in Design at a manufacturing plant. He’s barely three months into this job and he has a before-and-after story. Earlier he worked as an apprentice at a production company, where he rotated across three factory shifts with barely a Sunday to sleep through. “Work-life balance was zero. Only I know how difficult that one year was,” he said. During his previous job, he lost weight, his hair started falling out, he started having acidity problems due to lack of proper food intake during the erratic shifts. And when he tried to push back? “Who would listen to us? We were just apprentices.”

Sound familiar? It should. Andy Sachs, circa 2006, also had no time to breathe. The difference is that Sachs, for a while, convinced herself it was worth it. Day did not. He left.

At his current job, the manager themselves is a Gen Z. Day reveals there is no chasing emails after work hours. He adds, “Once you punch out for the day, you just leave. If there’s extra work, there’s compensatory time off.”

The older managers at his previous company had a different philosophy. They used to say, “We did this in our youth (overtime, working without a complaint), so you have to do it too.”

Azaan Khan, 22, spent time as an HR job trainee in the Hospitality Industry. He said, “My official hours were 9 to 6, but most days it stretched till 9 PM.” What made it harder to justify was the absence of recognition. “There was no overtime, no extra pay, even when we worked on holidays like Independence Day.” When the effort and reward felt mismatched at the workplace, the grind stopped feeling aspirational and started feeling extractive.

He left before the work could do more damage to him.

What Azaan speaks about is more nuanced than a simple refusal. “Gen Z is willing to work hard and make sacrifices,” he said, “but only if the work is valid and worth it.”

Shania Rodrigues, 24, a marketing executive working under the publishing and retail industry, has been working full-time for eight months and has already developed what she calls a fairly clear philosophy. “Work is replaceable — but your time, energy and life outside of it are not.” She’s thought about this carefully. She said, “I realised this early on by observing family members who would work late into the night, during vacations or those who come home physically but still be mentally at work….. I genuinely believe work should only be one part of life, not the majority of it.”

Her current work situation is also not ideal by her own standards. Even though her regular hours are from 9-6, some days have been ending at 9:30 PM without any overtime. There have also been WhatsApp messages from colleagues at 9 PM, well into her personal time, which she considers sacrosanct. She added, “I’ve started setting boundaries, by not responding unless it’s urgent and waiting until the next workday.” What she wants is not special treatment. It is fairness. “Just because overworking has been normalised doesn’t mean it’s right,” she said. “What looks like ‘taking it easy’ is often just choosing not to overextend.”

Ajayan*, 22, spent ten months as a reporter for a digital media before taking a step back. He stumbled into the field out of curiosity rather than calling. But what burned him out was not the work in itself but everything surrounding it – arriving in a new city with no support system, to find his own space, friends with a different schedule than his own with whom he could only check in on once a month.

There were no editorial restrictions or hierarchy that he faced at his workplace, none of the Miranda Priestly theatrics. Yet he found himself coming in, on off days, not because he was told to but because that’s what he believed good work required. “I didn’t take my breaks when I should’ve… I was wiped out by the end of three months.”

He adds that this is more a conditioning and systemic issue. “I think we are conditioned to not see breaks as a necessity…. When you get to work, you realise, your breaks are whenever an authority figure decides your break is.”

Savio Vaz, 30, a Senior Project Engineer in the oil and gas industry who works closely with more than twenty Gen Z colleagues, is on the other end of the desk. “They are generally quicker to log off and prioritise fitness, mental well-being and social life, which is a positive shift. It reflects a healthier mindset, recognising that personal well-being is just as important as professional commitments,” he said. Some of his colleagues don’t even have work apps on their personal phones.

He finds this, mostly, refreshing. However, there is only one smaller complication, he admits, “They often question or bypass standard procedures if they find them inefficient. But I do believe as they gain more experience in handling team dynamics and real-world pressures, their impact will only become stronger.” It is, as far as assessments go, fair.

That’s the thing about this shift. It isn’t really about Gen Z, not entirely. It’s about what offices are finally being asked to become: places where people work, and then go home. Where “that’s all” means the meeting is over and out.