Culture

Rachael escaped abuse. Then she bought a pair of designer jeans.

The purchase was one of many restorative acts on her path to healing.

By Sally Spicer

Published 18 March, 2026

Culture

Rachael escaped abuse. Then she bought a pair of designer jeans.

The purchase was one of many restorative acts on her path to healing.

By Sally Spicer

Published 18 March, 2026

Trigger warning: this article discusses domestic and family violence.  If you or someone you know needs help contact 1800RESPECT. In an emergency, always call 000.

When Rachael Lloyd escaped her abusive partner she received a Centrelink Emergency Payment. Immediately after, she did two things. Firstly, she made sure her baby twins had everything they needed – food, shelter, basic supplies – then she went to Sass and Bide and bought a pair of designer jeans.

The first act was about survival. The second was the Sydney-based mum’s first step in reclaiming a long-absent sense of joy in the wake of a financially, physically and emotionally abusive marriage that saw her life savings completely drained. She knew it was the last piece of designer clothing she’d ever own. 

It was a symbolic farewell to both the life she lived before she met her perpetrator and the nightmare she’d lived with him: a whole new unknown chapter.

“I had come from the UK without children where I was financially independent. [Before the relationship] I worked hard, I could afford nice clothes,” she told FW podcast There’s No Place Like Home: Paths to Healing.

“I knew that having left, there was no hope of us having financial independence for a long time. I knew it was the last pair of Sass and Bide jeans I was going to buy for a very long time. It felt great. It felt so empowering.”  

She knows sharing this will prompt some to clutch their pearls and others to shake their heads, confused or perhaps outraged at the perceived waste during a time of extreme financial stress. But that’s the point. It was about more than a pair of expensive jeans: it was about dignity.

“I love that, the reclaiming of power,” added her friend Rebecca Glenn, the founder and CEO of the Centre for Women’s Economic Safety (CWES), who began chuckling before Rachael had even started talking. She’s heard it before.

“I think if people have a reaction other than that – and I know people do – it’s important we reflect on what this is about. Because there’s almost this expectation that ‘you should be grateful to survive on the crumbs that we’re prepared to provide’.” 

Lloyd agreed, noting she’d see that kind of thinking in action. 

“[There’s] a visualisation piece of, I am the author of this next chapter. They are rewiring themselves internally.”

“I partnered with Dandelion Support Network for a long time and people used to donate baby clothes that had stains on [them] because the women and children are leaving domestic violence, so it’s better than nothing. What we’re actually saying is you are not willing to empower somebody that has been through such a terrible experience,” she said.  

Glenn, Lloyd and Good Shepherd’s Loren Katafono joined FW for a wide-ranging discussion that showcased the stark realities of long-term financial abuse, the long road to recovery and the programs supporting survivors like Rachael Lloyd after their escape. 

Their respective programs are about the practical, but also the emotional side of rebuilding financial security. This includes regaining confidence, redefining a person’s ‘money story’ and re-calibrating their long-term goals. 

Much like Lloyd’s jeans were more than denim fabric, their work is about so much more than dollars and cents. Good Shepherd’s financial coaching is built on the premise that a participant is the lead character in their own life story – that they deserve to rebuild their lives on their own terms. That they deserve more than someone else’s crumbs.

“[We] walk through it gently with them to think, ‘Okay, what do you want this next chapter to look like?’ [There’s] a visualisation piece of, I am the author of this next chapter. They are rewiring themselves internally,” said Katafono. 

Lloyd is now the founder and CEO of the Lokahi Foundation, which supports women who’ve escaped domestic abuse in Sydney’s Eastern suburbs in the months and years after leaving abuse. In her case, it’s been just over ten years. She celebrated the decade milestone by legalling reverting back to her maiden name. Even after the divorce, she’d gone by her married one because she shared it with her boys, but they’re teenagers now, and it felt important. 

Another act of reclamation for the woman who now goes by the name Rachael Lloyd.

Listen or watch this episode of There’s No Place Like Home: Paths to Healing on YouTube, Spotify, Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your podcasts.

If you or someone you know is affected by domestic, family and sexual violence, contact the national service 1800RESPECT for free and confidential counselling, information and service referral. Call 1800 737 732, chat online 24/7 at www.1800respect.org.au or use the text line on 0458 737 732

There’s No Place Like Home: Paths to Healing is an FW podcast made in partnership with Commonwealth Bank, who through CommBank Next Chapter, are supporting people within Australia experiencing financial abuse, even if you don’t bank with them. If you’re worried about your finances because of domestic and family violence, you can contact CommBank’s Next Chapter Team on 1800 222 387 within Australia or visit commbank.com.au/nextchapter, even if you don’t bank with them.