From dressing Prada's windows on a sweltering Sydney afternoon to filling restaurant tables with women who'd sworn off networking for life, Samantha Theron's path has never run in a straight line, and that, she'll tell you, is rather the point.
The conversation took place over coffee at The Palomar, Sydney, where Collabor8Women has hosted one of its recent and memorable gatherings. Samantha is the co-founder of the Sydney-born community redefining what networking looks like for women in business. Drawing on a decade with Prada across Sydney and Singapore, she sat down with us to talk about styling by accident, the lesson of luxury, and the lunch that started a movement.
How did you start your journey in the styling world?
I fell into it, really. I was living in Bellevue Hill, waitressing in Double Bay, the place to be at the time, and I picked up a job answering phones at a modelling agency. One day, the owner came in and said the stylist for a day of headshots had called in sick. I said, "I can do that" I walked through the boutiques in Double Bay, gathered up clothes, and we shot the models that afternoon. I thought, I quite like this.
Not long after, I was looking for a flatmate and the girl who moved in turned out to work at Harper's Bazaar. I never asked her for a job. Then one day she called in a pinch and asked if I could cover a shoot. That became seventeen advertorial shoots for Bazaar and that in itself was another blessing as you definitely earned more money as a freelancer doing advertising than fashion editorial. Australia was such a small market then. We were all starting out together, alongside young photographers who've since gone on to do extraordinary things.
How did Prada come about?
An email I assumed was spam, and then a LinkedIn message asking if I'd received it. It turned out to be a recruiter looking for a stylist and visual merchandiser on behalf of a luxury brand, but they wouldn't tell me which one until I confirmed I was interested. Of course I was. The brand was Prada.
I told them straight away that I'd never done visual merchandising before. It wasn't even something you could study at the time. They said, "We know. They've seen your work. They want to look outside the box". It became a three-month interview process with the head of visual merchandising in Hong Kong and, eventually, the team in Italy.
What was the moment that sealed it for you?
The in-person trial. A scorcher of a Sydney day. I drove in, couldn't find a park, but arrived on time. Always be on time, my mantra for anything in life. I had to re-merchandise the entire store and dress the mannequins and the air conditioning wasn't working. It taught me, very quickly, how to stay composed and just do the job. That afternoon opened the door to a ten-year career.
I'd always freelanced, so the move into a corporate world was a real shift. But my first boss was incredible. She taught me how to take a visual talent, an instinct for things of a visual nature, and think about it commercially. That has stayed with me ever since.
You eventually moved to Singapore. What was that chapter like?
After four years in Sydney, Prada offered me a role across Southeast Asia. It was an adventure, and it was hard work. The ethic there was simple: don't complain, just do it. A sixteen-hour day followed by a flight? Too bad, because a million other people want your position. So you find the energy. Even when you don't have it, somehow you find it.
Your contract ended in the middle of the pandemic. How did that reshape things?
Retail was hit hard. Online held up, but stores closed, and so much of my work was physical. Setting up spaces, doing windows, thinking through how a customer moves through a store. After much soul searching, and tough decisions, I packed up and came home to Sydney. A decision I don't regret. The strangest part was realising I'd been gone so long that my network had completely shifted. People I'd known in one role were doing something else entirely, or had moved overseas. I had to start again, in a moment when no one was going anywhere.
Where did that lead?
I was staying with a very good friend, Simona Janek, a fantastic photographer and hair-and-makeup artist. I said, why don't we form a little union. You do the headshots, I'll style, you do the makeup. Everyone was coming out of lockdown wanting new LinkedIn photos and updated websites. Personal branding had suddenly become the conversation. We loved doing it, and I still cherish the time spent working with her.
And that's how Collabor8Women began?
In a roundabout way, yes. Karen Eck came in for publicity photos. I thought straight away, she's a bit of a dynamo. We started talking. I wanted to meet new people - widen my network and I also wanted to introduce Karen to someone, and we decided, why don't we each bring three people to lunch, a table of eight. Everyone was sick of being at home; everyone was ready to be back in restaurants. We held the first table of 8, thought we had something special, and after a glass of wine and a 30 min phone call, had registered the name and started planning for the next event.
And from one table of eight, it grew?
The next one was two tables of eight, then it just kept building. We've done around forty events to date, and we estimate that by end of 2026, we've contributed just over $2 million to the New South Wales economy by simply supporting local venues, and women in hospitality. I have to give a huge shout-out to the women in hospitality who've embraced what we're trying to do.
What is it about Collabor8Women that resonates with women?
You'd be surprised at how many women say, networking, absolutely not. Yet, they come once, and it shifts. The calibre of women in the room is what makes it. We're not there to talk about our children or make small talk. We're there to talk about business, about challenges, about being at a crossroads, over really beautiful food and wine, in genuinely beautiful spaces. It isn't traditional networking. I think that's exactly why it works.
Introverts love it, because you're not standing up in front of a room having to announce what you do. You're at an intimate table, with seven other women. And the secret sauce, for want of a better word, is that no two events are ever the same. You might find yourself sitting with someone you've met before but never really had the chance to know, and that's where the collaborations are born. We always say: the business will come. Have the conversation first. That's been a lightbulb for so many people. It takes the transactional nature right out of it.
You're wearing a Kasmiri cashmere wrap today. How does it make you feel?
Honestly, like a relief. I've been cursed with very sensitive skin as I can't wear wool, I can't wear mohair, none of it. The fibres have scales, and those scales prick and irritate.
Cashmere is the only thing I can wear against my skin, and the quality of the Kasmiri collection is exceptional. I have a few Kasmiri scarves and my favourite is the open-knit cashmere wrap in merlot. It's soft, it's light, it breathes, and you don't overheat in it the way you do with wool. And it pairs beautifully with black, which means it slots straight into my wardrobe. There's a wonderful luxury to it and I love wearing my Kasmiri wraps asymmetcially. You put it on, and you feel held together.
I have a strong appreciation for heritage driven brands and the craftsmanship behind Kasmiri stands out for me.
How would you describe your personal style?
Classic, sophisticated, practical. I'm not a fashionista and never have been, but I love fashion when it's wearable. We're paying mortgages, we're living through cost-of-living pressures, and head-to-toe luxury isn't sustainable for most of us. So it's about a few really good key pieces you can mix in with everything else.
I wear a lot of black. I love what black does for a silhouette, and it takes you from morning to night with just a change of shoes. Then I'll bring in texture and colour through a beautiful jacket or scarf, or a statement piece of jewellery. I'm a sucker for a good cocktail ring.
After everything from Prada, Singapore, building Collabor8Women from a single lunch, how do you define success now?
Honestly, my definition has changed completely. For a long time, I thought success was the next role, the bigger territory, the sixteen-hour day you somehow survived. And there's something in that, the discipline of don't complain, just do it has carried me a very long way. You find energy you didn't know you had. But I've come to think that isn't success. That's stamina.
Real success, for me, has always come down to the belief that - I can do that! And if I don't know how to do it all at the start, I'll soon enough learn. Back yourself first. Every door that's ever opened for me opened because I said yes first and worked out the rest later.
And the longer I do this, the more I think success isn't the deal or the title at all. We say it constantly at Collabor8Women, have the conversation first, the business will come, and it took me a whole career to understand that isn't just networking advice. It's how every good thing in my life has actually happened. The flatmate from Bazaar. The "spam" email from Prada. A lunch for eight that became a community. None of it was transactional. So now, when I measure success, I don't count the wins. I count the rooms I helped build, and the people in them.
'...when I measure success, I don't count the wins. I count the rooms I helped build, and the people in them'.
Samantha Theron
In addition to Collabor8Women you work for an iconic Australian brand?
Yes, I landed a fantastic role working for a much-loved, iconic Australian brand R.M Williams as Senior Manager of Visual Merchandising for Australia, NZ and the UK. It was really important for me to find a role with an Australian brand after my stint overseas. I wanted that connection with a brand that was well regarded and honoured heritage and craftsmanship.
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What's your favourite place you've ever travelled?
Tokyo. I lived there for two years, from 1989, just after I finished high school. My father worked for the Sheraton group and was transferred over, and arriving at eighteen felt like landing on another planet, an incredible one. The food, the people, the city itself.
While I was there, I auditioned for Tokyo Disneyland and ended up working as a dancer for the next two years, waving and blowing kisses from in front of Cinderella's carriage. What I loved about Disney was their philosophy. You couldn't talk about what you did outside of work, because that would break the spell for the children. I've never forgotten that. The discipline of keeping the magic alive for someone else.
And it was a Tokyo before social media. If you wanted a photograph, you had to take it on film, drop it off to be processed, and come back days later to collect it. You couldn't do anything you'd regret. It was a beautiful, slower way to be eighteen; I haven't been back since, and it's very much at the top of my list.