NERRĀ

 

Senior Social Media Video Editor

 

 

Rebecca Gomes Ferenczi
Video Editor | rgomesferenczi@gmail.com | rebeccagomesferenczi.com

 

 

Cover Letter – NERRĀ

Hi, I’m Rebecca.

I grew up in the suburbs of Paris in the 90s — in a vibrant world shaped by mixity, resilience, and shared stories. We were all children of geopolitical migrations, carrying deep-rooted histories on our backs. And what kept us going, really, was laughter, protection, and beauty — always shared, always just for ourselves.

I spent hours watching the women in my family getting ready. My mother, my sister, my aunts, my grandmother. Alone in front of the mirror, or together before going out. There was always a rhythm to it: the cream, the oil, the khôl, the terracotta, the perfume. Beauty wasn’t about seduction. It was power. It was presence.

I think that’s what I’m still doing today, as an editor. I work with this quiet archive inside me — and somehow, it shows. I choose shots with instinct. I compose women on screen without ever reducing them. No hypersexualization, no overexposure. Just presence. Tenderness. Strength. Something sacred.

I believe I carry an ancestral wisdom that’s been passed down to me — the kind that lives in secret rituals. Washing your body. Braiding your hair. Touching your face with care. These private gestures, repeated for generations, are a kind of prayer. And I think we’ve forgotten a lot. There are natural remedies, homemade rituals, intuitive practices that got buried under industry noise. But we can bring them back — and strangely, I believe we can do that using the very tools that shaped modern mass culture. We can reclaim those stories, softly, creatively, generously.

That’s why I started editing in the first place. It was during the early days of YouTube — that exciting, democratic moment when anyone could share something raw and personal. Beauty tutorials were starting to bloom.

At the time, I was working as a freelance assistant editor, mostly in fashion and luxury. Becoming an editor felt like a natural next step, but not an easy one to access.

That’s when Violette and Fabien Ducommun (her best friend — a brilliant actor, singer, and so much more) invited me to join the creation of Violette’s YouTube channel.
Their idea was simple and exciting: to create beauty tutorials that felt chic, light, and cinematic, inspired by the Nouvelle Vague, in a space that was still wide open. Back then, YouTube was still unshaped — full of possibilities, mostly driven by passionate people experimenting on their own terms.

They didn’t know exactly where it would lead, but they knew I had worked alongside directors and editors, and they sensed my dedication. That collaboration gave me a space to explore, to try, to shape. It allowed me to become an editor — not through theory, but through trust, rhythm, and experimentation.

And I realized that editing is writing — but with material that already carries emotion, light, breath.

I’ve since worked with brands like Violette_FR, Guerlain, Cartier, and Zara Home.
I’ve studied in Buenos Aires, Berlin, Paris, Brussels, and Lisbon. I’m passionate about languages, and about the many ways perspective and culture shape the way we tell stories.

But honestly, what matters most is that moment of focus — when editing becomes flow, and my mind is carried by inner forces that move through me.
My discipline — its rhythms and sensations — isn’t confined by rules or techniques. Instead, it allows what escapes us to emerge and be revealed.

This is what I want to bring to NERRĀ: a way of working that listens deeply, and reveals what is often left unseen.

Thanks for reading,

Looking forward hearing from you soon!

Best regards,
Rebecca Gomes Ferenczi 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tell us about a time when a piece of content didn’t go as planned.

How did you handle it, and what did you learn from the experience?

 

To be honest, what I love most about this job is that I will always be surprised. That moment when things don’t go as planned — that’s often when the real creativity begins. I’ve learned to welcome it.

One of my favorite parts of the process is when the unexpected opens new directions I would have never imagined on my own. For instance, several directors I work with regularly have this funny habit: they send me their footage without any context or notes, just to see what I come up with. Only after watching my first cut do they share their vision, intentions, or narrative clues — and that’s when our real creative dialogue begins.

I love that. I love being challenged, thrown off balance, and invited to reinterpret things together. It reminds me that editing isn’t about controlling the material, it’s about listening, exchanging, transforming. When a piece doesn’t go the way I thought, I don’t see it as a mistake, I see it as an invitation to go further.

 

 

What’s a decision you made that others disagreed with — and how did it turn out?

When I was editing the music video for The Dø, Trustful Hands, I added yellow subtitles to the lyrics — styled like vintage cinema subtitles. At first, I had done it for myself, to help with the rhythm during the edit. But as I kept watching, it sparked a memory: how my sister, my cousin and I love to sing along to our favorite songs, and how frustrating it is when the only karaoke versions on YouTube are cheesy, low-quality, and don’t feature the original video.

So I thought — why not leave them in? That way people could watch the clip and sing at the same time. A kind of poetic karaoke.

The label thought it was a bad idea. They didn’t get it. But Dan (from the band) liked it and stepped in. He told the label something like, “Maybe she sees something we don’t, she’s younger, let’s trust her instincts.” So they said yes.

The video went out with the subtitles. And now? Everyone’s doing it. It became a thing. And honestly, I’m proud, not just because I “predicted a trend,” but because I stayed true to a gut feeling, and someone believed in it enough to back me up. 

That experience taught me that sometimes, a creative idea that looks “off” at first just needs the right context — or the right ally — to make sense.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When things go wrong, what’s your instinct: fix it quietly or escalate it fast?

Honestly, my first instinct is to listen, absorb, and work with what’s there, even (especially!) if it’s messy.

Usually when I receive footage, I’m briefed beforehand, and often I’m told about unexpected issues or mistakes that happened during the shoot. Things that “shouldn’t be there,” or that we’re supposed to hide. But I’ve developed a bit of a habit: I love taking those so-called “mistakes” and turning them into features.

For me, it becomes a game, how can I make that imperfection feel intentional, emotional, even beautiful? How do I subvert the problem and make it part of the storytelling?

Sometimes a technical hiccup or an awkward gesture ends up being the most memorable moment of the video. It gives it a unique flavor, something real and offbeat. So unless the problem affects the integrity of the message or the team’s safety or ethics, I usually lean in and play with it.

That said, if something really blocks the process or seems off-strategy, I’m not afraid to raise it early and talk it through. But more often than not, I quietly turn the “wrong” into something right.

 

Why are you interested in this role — and why NERRĀ?

As I mentioned earlier, I live in the very region that NERRĀ is inspired by. I know its scents, its rhythms, its colors, but more importantly, I know the wisdom and depth it holds within our civilization. The Mediterranean isn’t just a place, it’s a memory that belongs to all of us — and I find it nourishing to embrace its specificity, its rituals, its slow beauty.

What excites me about this role is the idea of collaborating together to get closer to the heart of this rich identity — through stories, sensations, and visual evocations. I’d love to help shape a language that brings out both the mystery and the excitement of the brand, while also carrying a feeling of softness, wellbeing, and safety, the way a good body ritual does.

I don’t see this as just making content. I see it as crafting a living experience, one that resonates, comforts, and awakens something in the viewer. And I believe I have the tools, the sensitivity, and the cultural closeness to help do that with you.