Sarah-Jane Clarke - travels in high fashion

It was 1999 when two Queensland girls launched a small jeans label in Sydney. Fifteen years later, the pair have left an indelibly Australian imprint on the international luxury fashion industry (and reinvented the average jean zip-length in the process). sass & bide co-founder Sarah-Jane Clarke talks to Georgia Rickard about one very Australian journey

Let us, for a moment, take stock of Australia’s fairly impressive reputation for success. We make great wine. We can act. We can even manage to win the odd Olympic gold… in winter. For a population of our size, some ridiculously miniscule fraction of the world’s many billions, it would not be unfair to say that Australians know how to punch above their weight.

But when it comes to fashion, we’ve always… lagged a little bit. Major disadvantages like the more-than-20-hours’-flight-time to the globe’s major fashion capitals; the diametrically opposed seasons; our sheer physical distance from the well-oiled machine of red carpet endorsements are against us, admittedly, but similar challenges have existed in other industries, haven’t they?

Until a couple of decades ago it was, perhaps, the obvious conclusion to draw that maybe most Australians just weren’t that interested. Let’s be frank (after all, that is a very Australian thing to be): the art of fashion might be just that – a wonderful, expressive form of art – but the hangers on, the associated pretensions… those aspects of the industry have long been at odds with the straight-forward, no-bull candour so highly prized by our antipodean culture.

I am sitting in Sarah-Jane Clarke’s suite, all-important champagne in hand (it’s been a long day), when I put this contrast to her. Outside, descending in a series of pink and yellow exclamation points, the setting sun marks the end of our second day shooting the Australian Traveller cover; in hair greasy with product and a face shining with moisturiser, Clarke looks as tired as I feel (though, truth be told, she is still far too attractive to really wear that label).

In the room next door, her three boys are unusually quiet, absorbed in the dual allure of room service and television; the suite is sprinkled with clothes (hers) and toys (theirs). For someone so often upheld as a global fashion influencer (Celebrity! Millionaire! Fashion icon!), it is a nice, normal scene. Then again, Sarah-Jane Clarke is – happily, refreshingly, surprisingly – just that. Normal.

Just a Queensland girl at heart

The easy conclusion to draw from that observation, though, is an obvious one: Clarke’s upbringing was as far removed from the sophisticated aggression of the world’s fashion capitals as you can get. Growing up in ’70s Queensland, she spent “a lot of time" at North Stradbroke, South Stradbroke, Fraser Island and Moreton Island. “We used to go camping at Fraser for three-week stints," she recalls.

“Mum and Dad would set us up over there and Dad would go back to work, so Mum would have us three kids and we would live very simply. Camping, cooking, burying eskies under the sand to keep them cold, bush pigs, dingoes… I mean, we really had it all." She pauses. “I think that’s probably where my soul feels most at peace, actually. Where the bush and the sea meet. I love that landscape."

The fact that she chose a childhood friend and fellow Queenslander, Heidi Middleton, as her business partner probably didn’t hurt either.

“We’ve never been fashion followers," Clarke admits. “I think that might have been the key to our success, actually. sass & bide’s whole philosophy on life has always been very Australian – the fact that we love what we do, but we don’t take ourselves too seriously. Australians know who they are and what they want to be, so they can be very motivated individuals, but they also have a great sense of humour, and I think we have the balance of what matters in life."

The label’s story – a classic tale of rags-to-riches (“not at all, it was bloody hard work," Clarke counters) – is a well-known one. After enjoying success selling customised jeans at London’s Portobello Markets during a gap year, the pair moved to Sydney in 1999, with plans of starting a local label. They began by sourcing the lowest zip they could find – a mere two-inches long; so scandalously low that manufacturers said, doubtfully, that attaching it to jeans wasn’t a particularly good idea – and began what Clarke calls the “two-woman show", working “8am till 9pm, seven days a week" without any staff for the next two years.

The travelling roadshow

It was worth it. The jeans sold like hotcakes. Still, the pair had bigger plans. In a move that Clarke calls “beautifully naïve", she and Middleton packed bags filled with designs from their fledgling label and went on a “travelling roadshow," traipsing the streets of New York City with their suitcases trailing behind them.

“Most designers would be in their car, or at their sales agents, but we…" She laughs, lost in the memory. “We were determined to personally meet every editor and buyer we could."

Then came the instant that changed everything – one of those Crocodile Dundee-type moments that script writers fall all over themselves for.

“I didn’t watch Sex and the City, so I wasn’t really in tune as to who Sarah Jessica Parker was," says Clarke, “but Heidi did. We were walking back from a sales appointment at Barneys with our suitcase full of things, and there she was, filming in the streets…"

They decided they needed to give her something: the jacket Clarke was wearing.

“So we went over to the security guard and said, ‘We are designers from Australia…’"

Parker went on to wear a full ensemble on her show. Suddenly, sass & bide was the Next Big Thing. It would be easy to imagine that, once elevated to a playing field Australians don’t often get tickets to, that one might – shall we say – start to get tickets on oneself.

“Well, yes, I hear that all the time," she responds, “but to be honest, I have never…" She pauses. “There are probably some less desirable people in the industry," she concedes.

“But I think it depends on who you surround yourself with. I’m surrounded by very real people, especially my partner Daniel and my parents, and even though they are very proud of my achievements, they’ve always ensured I check in with my spiritual side. And our philosophy has always been to work with like-minded people. There are some really beautiful souls out there, who are really just in it for the passion of what they do, and who don’t get too involved in all the extra hype."

Is that what she’s done – avoided ‘the extra hype’? What about the two-million-odd images of her floating around in cyberspace, looking glamorous at all those fashion, darling-type parties?

The cure for egomania

She smiles. “We’ve always tried to balance ourselves one foot in, one foot out," she concedes. “But the Australian way doesn’t lend itself to inflated heads and egomaniacs. Plus" – she gestures at the toys on the floor – “having children doesn’t give you much time to get carried away in your success!"

There has, by the way, been some serious success – more so than the average Australian might appreciate. A decade’s worth of invitations to (and consequently, hugely successful showings at) the fashion weeks of both London and New York. The requisite celebrity endorsements (Kate Moss, Beyonce; even Madonna – a big deal whether you care particularly for celebrity, or not).

There have been numerous and repeated appearances in all those apparently important lists, like the BRW’s annual Young Rich List. Perhaps most outstandingly, though, is their commercial success – arguably the greatest level achieved by an Australian label of their ilk, and one that has culminated – despite a local landscape of peers’ companies’ collapses – in their latest, most controversial move of all.

It was 2011 when Clarke and Middleton first decided to sell off shares of the company (Myer purchased a 65 per cent stake for $42.25 million). Then, two weeks before this edition went to print, the pair announced publicly that they were parting ways with the brand entirely.

No doubt it was a choice that took some time to make. “Being involved in sass & bide was like being on a ferris wheel," agrees Clarke. “Exciting and colourful… but endlessly rotating.

“Now that I’m off the ride, for the next six months I’m going to be selfish, take some time to breathe and just concentrate on my health and wellbeing. I want to enjoy my boys, finish those jobs on the bottom of the to-do list – those ones that never get done – and just appreciate the beauty that surrounds me."

The fairytale ending

It’s hard to resist finishing this article with the usual fairytale-style conclusion: girl from the bush ends up conquering, then gracefully departing a global industry, and riding off happily into the sunset. In a sense, though, that’s a little how things seem to be.

“We live in this unique place where dreams can be achieved, in a culture that’s open-minded and exploratory," she says, by way of answer. “Our landscapes have so much to offer as well, particularly for young minds." She gestures in the direction of her boys, still quiet in the room next door. “Right now, we have a real hunger to explore more of Australia."

She reels off her bucket list: Tasmania’s Overland Track; Kangaroo Island, exploring the Kimberley and Northern Territory; more time on Lord Howe Island, where she celebrated her 30th birthday, escaping to the Cocos (Keeling) Islands…

“We’re free to shape our future," she finishes, and though I’m not sure whether she’s talking about her family, or her country, it doesn’t really matter. If there’s anything the sass & bide story tells us, it’s that her statement applies to both.

Abandoned mills and forgotten paper plants are finding second lives – and helping redefine a city long underestimated.

Just 15 years ago, Federal Mills was a very different place. Once among the most significant industrial sites in Victoria, the historic woollen mill was one of a dozen that operated in Geelong at the industry’s peak in the mid-20th century, helping the city earn its title as ‘wool centre of the world’. But by the 1960s global competition and the rise of synthetic fabrics led to the slow decline of the industry, and Federal Mills finally shuttered its doors in 2001. Within a few years, the abandoned North Geelong grounds had become makeshift pastoral land, with cows and goats grazing among the overgrown grass between the empty red-brick warehouses. It was a forgotten pocket of the city, all but two klicks from the bustle of the CBD.

Geelong cellar door wine bar — Geelong has shed its industrial identity to become an innovative urban hub with reimagined heritage spaces. (Image: Ash Hughes)

Federal Mills: from forgotten factory to creative precinct

Today, the century-old complex stands reborn. The distinctive sawtooth-roof buildings have been sensitively restored. An old silo is splashed with a bright floral mural, landscapers have transformed the grounds, and the precinct is once again alive with activity. More than 1000 people work across 50-plus businesses here. It’s so busy, in fact, that on a sunny Thursday morning in the thick of winter, it’s hard to find a car park. The high ceilings, open-plan design, and large multi-paned windows – revolutionary features for factories of their time – have again become a drawcard.

Paddock Bakery andPatisserie — Paddock Bakery and Patisserie is housed within the historic wool factory. (Image: Gallant Lee)

At Paddock , one of the precinct’s newer tenants, weaving looms and dye vats have been replaced by a wood-fired brick oven and heavy-duty mixers. Open since April 2024, the bakery looks right at home here; the building’s industrial shell is softened by ivy climbing its steel frames, and sunlight streams through the tall windows. Outside, among the white cedar trees, families at picnic benches linger over dippy eggs and bagels, while white-collar workers pass in and out, single-origin coffee and crème brûlée doughnuts in hand.

Geelong: Australia’s only UNESCO City of Design

Paddock Bakery can be found at Federal Mills. (Image: Gallant Lee)

“A lot of people are now seeing the merit of investing in Geelong,” says Paul Traynor, the head of Hamilton Hospitality Group, which redeveloped Federal Mills. A city once shunned as Sleepy Hollow, and spurned for its industrial, working-class roots and ‘rust belt’ image, Geelong has long since reclaimed its ‘Pivot City’ title, having reinvented itself as an affordable, lifestyle-driven satellite city, and a post-COVID migration hotspot.

And the numbers stand testament to the change. In March 2025, and for the first time in its history, Greater Geelong became Australia’s most popular regional town for internal migration, overtaking Queensland’s Sunshine Coast. Current forecasts suggest Geelong will continue to outpace many other Australian cities and towns, with jobs growing at double the rate of the population.

Tourism is booming, too. The 2023-24 financial year was Geelong and The Bellarine region’s busiest on record, with 6.4 million visitors making it one of the fastest-growing destinations in the country. It’s not hard to see why: beyond the city’s prime positioning at the doorstep of the Great Ocean Road, Geelong’s tenacity and cultural ambition stands out.

As Australia’s only UNESCO City of Design, Geelong is swiftly shaking off its industrial past to become a model for urban renewal, innovation, sustainability and creative communities. The signs are everywhere, from the revitalisation of the city’s waterfront, and the landmark design of the Geelong Library and Heritage Centre and Geelong Arts Centre, to the growing network of local designers, architects and artists, and the burgeoning roster of festivals and events. That’s not even mentioning the adaptive reuse of storied old industrial buildings – from Federal Mills, to Little Creatures’ brewery ‘village’ housed within a 1920s textile mill – or the city’s flourishing food and wine scene.

The rise of a food and wine destination

Restaurant 1915 is housed within a restored former boiler house. (Image: Harry Pope/Two Palms)

Traynor credits now-closed local restaurant Igni, which opened in 2016, as the turning point for Geelong’s hospo industry. “[Aaron Turner, Igni’s chef-patron] was probably the first guy, with all due respect, to raise the bar food-wise for Geelong,” he says. “People now treat it really seriously, and there’s clearly a market for it.” While Igni is gone, Turner now helms a string of other notable Geelong venues, including The Hot Chicken Project and Tacos y Liquor, all within the buzzy, street art-speckled laneways of the CBD’s Little Malop Street Precinct. Many others have also popped up in Igni’s wake, including Federal Mills’ own restaurant, 1915 . Housed within the cavernous boiler house, 1915’s interior is dramatic: soaring, vaulted ceilings with timber beams, exposed brick, a huge arched window. The share plates echo the space’s bold character, playing with contrast and texture, with dishes such as a compressed watermelon tataki, the sweet, juicy squares tempered by salty strands of fried leeks, and charred, smoky snow peas dusted with saganaki on a nutty bed of romesco.

The Woolstore , one of The Hamilton Group’s most recent hospo projects, opened in February. It occupies a century-old riverside warehouse and exudes a more sultry, fine dining ambience. Much like Federal Mills, the blueprint was to preserve the original brickwork, tallowwood flooring and nods to the building’s former life. That same careful consideration extends to the well-versed, affable waitstaff as well as the kitchen. Head chef Eli Grubb is turning out an eclectic mix of ambitious and indulgent mod Oz dishes that deliver: strikingly tender skewers of chicken tsukune, infused with hints of smoke from the parrilla grill, and glazed with a moreish, sweet gochujang ‘jam’; nduja arancini fragrant with hints of aniseed and the earthy lick of sunny saffron aioli; and golden squares of potato pavé, adorned with tiny turrets of crème fraîche, crisp-fried saltbush leaves, and Avruga caviar, to name but a few stand-out dishes.

Woolstore menu — Woolstore’s menu is designed for sharing.

Breathing new life into historic spaces

On the city’s fringe, hidden down a winding side road with little fanfare, lies a long-dormant site that’s being gently revived. Built from locally quarried bluestone and brick, and dating back to the 1870s, the complex of original tin-roofed mill buildings is lush with greenery and backs onto the Barwon River and Buckley Falls; the audible rush of water provides a soothing soundtrack. Fyansford Paper Mill is one of few complexes of its time to survive intact. It feels steeped in history and spellbindingly rustic.

“We were looking for an old industrial place that had some charm and romance to it,” explains Sam Vogel, the owner, director and winemaker at Provenance Wines which moved here in 2018. When he first viewed the building with his former co-owner, it was in such a state of disrepair that the tradie tenant occupying the space had built a shed within it to escape the leaking roof and freezing winter temperatures. “To say it was run down would be an understatement,” he notes. “There was ivy growing through the place; the windows were all smashed. It was a classic Grand Designs project.”

Provenance Wines moved to Fyansford Paper Mill in 2018. (Image: Cameron Murray Photography)

The team has since invested more than a million dollars into their new home. Where paper processing machinery once sat, wine barrels are now stacked. Vaulted cathedral ceilings are strung with festoon lights, and hidden in plain sight lies a shadowy mural by local street artist de rigueur Rone – one of only three permanent works by the artist.

While the award-winning, cool-climate pinot noir, riesling and chardonnay naturally remain a key draw at Provenance, the winery’s restaurant is a destination in itself. Impressed already by whipsmart service, I devour one of the most cleverly curated and faultlessly executed degustations I’ve had in some time. It’s all prepared in a kitchen that is proudly zero-waste, and committed to providing seasonal, ethical and locally sourced meat and produce under head chef Nate McIver. Think free-range venison served rare with a syrupy red wine jus and a half-moon of neon-orange kosho, shokupan with a deeply savoury duck fat jus (a modern Japanese take on bread and drippings), and a golden potato cake adorned with a colourful confetti of dehydrated nasturtiums and tomato powder, and planted atop a sea urchin emulsion.

handcrafted pieces — Bell’s handcrafted functional pieces on display.

The complex is home to a coterie of independent businesses, including a gallery, a jeweller, and its latest tenant, ceramicist Elizabeth Bell, drawn here by the building’s “soul”. “There’s so much potential for these buildings to have new life breathed into them,” says Bell, whose studio is housed within the old pump room. “Even people in Geelong don’t know we’re here,” she says. “It’s definitely a destination, but I like that. It has a really calming atmosphere.”

A Melbourne transplant, Bell now feels at home in Geelong, which offers something Melbourne didn’t. “If this business was in Melbourne I don’t think it would’ve been as successful,” she notes. “It’s very collaborative in Geelong, and I don’t think you get that as much in Melbourne; you’re a bit more in it for yourself. Here it’s about community over competition.”

Sarah-Jane Clarke – travels in high fashion

Just a Queensland girl at heart

The travelling roadshow

The cure for egomania

The fairytale ending

12 summer weekends away across Australia to plan now

26 incredible ways to celebrate New Year’s Eve

Friday’s Cold Moon is your last chance to see a supermoon in 2025

Australia’s most iconic train journey is changing in 2027

Inside Geelong’s glow-up from factory town to creative capital

Abandoned mills and forgotten paper plants are finding second lives – and helping redefine a city long underestimated.

Federal Mills: from forgotten factory to creative precinct

Geelong: Australia’s only UNESCO City of Design

The rise of a food and wine destination

Breathing new life into historic spaces