Fabulous at 40 Sam Armytage
On quitting TV, dating disasters and moving to the country
Turning 40 is enough to rattle even the most evolved among us. Life’s imaginary halfway mark, the milestone usually sparks at least a moment of selfanalysis, if not an all-out meltdown – and it’s even more loaded for women. Did I get the first four decades right? Am I where I want to be?
It’s a big deal for Samantha Armytage, too. The Sunrise co-host, who turns 40 on September 4, initially “wanted to go through it quietly”, but after some reflection decided it was an achievement worth celebrating. “Of course, you sit back and go, ‘If my life is half done, am I happy with what’s gone on so far?’ – and [the answer is] yes, very,” says Sam, who will mark the occasion in Europe with about 10 close friends, including sister Georgie.
“I feel very calm and strong and quite in my power. I feel like I’m much less tolerant of time-wasters, opportunists, manipulators and big egos … I don’t waste time on things that don’t matter to me – you start to think about life being a bit more precious. I back myself and protect myself more, so to me it feels like it’s actually a really good time in my life. It’s all coming together.”
If, beneath that strength, she sounds a bit defensive, it’s understandable. At the apex of an industry that she says can be “absolutely awful”, Sam has weathered extraordinary public scrutiny and a string of controversies, yet she always bounces back, her skin a little thicker each time. “The challenge,” she says, “is to find a balance between being my open, vulnerable, wanting to see the good in people self with having to be more
guarded, because there are a lot of people who want to see you not do well – mostly people who want your job.”
Sam has to deal with paparazzi camped outside her house and trailing her through the supermarket; she emerges from restaurants to blinding flashes and has to negotiate traffic with photographers following her on motorbikes. The constant surveillance means she’ll sometimes settle for a dinner of cheese on toast rather than go out for groceries without make-up on. People have riffled through her rubbish and police cars have had to patrol her house. Last year, she even discovered a drone hovering above her backyard.
After a leak from an undisclosed source, it was recently revealed that
Sam didn’t want to go to Rio with the Sunrise team because of the Zika virus, a mosquito-borne disease that is rife in Brazil and can cause birth defects if contracted during or in the lead-up to pregnancy. The leak forced her to publicly discuss her decision to stay in Sydney – and her hopes for a future baby.
Media commentator David Knox says Sam often gets a raw deal from editors. “The truth is, her name attracts clicks, regardless of whether it’s a positive or a negative yarn,” says David. “Getting on with the job can be very bloody hard when you are in their crosshairs, but it comes with the territory of breakfast TV.”
On top of the intrusions into her privacy, there’s also the vitriol she cops on social and mainstream media. Earlier this year, when Kristin Davis appeared on Sunrise, Sam was criticised for not focusing enough on the actress’ refugee work and for a lame Sex and the City skit she did with Kristin and her fellow female presenters. One columnist branded Sam a “mindless bimbo” whose “nonsense nattering” did “a major disservice to feminism”. Sam later admitted she was “shattered” by the dressing-down from another woman in her profession.
“I think sometimes people think they can make a name for themselves by attacking me, and that’s their problem,” she says. “Bullying is very much driven by envy, I wish I could get that message to every teenage girl out there, it is so important to recognise that.”
On the morning we meet, though, fresh off the Sunrise set, Sam doesn’t
“The challenge is to find a balance between my open, vulnerable self with being more guarded.”
want to dwell on the drawbacks of her celebrity, and is loath to play the victim. Raised with her two younger siblings on a sheep and cattle property in the NSW Snowy Mountains and sent off to boarding school at 13, Sam prides herself on her country-girl resilience too much to whine about her life – and she knows she probably wouldn’t get much sympathy anyway.
“Newsrooms are not places for sissies,” she says, sipping peppermint tea at a cafe in Sydney’s busy Martin Place. “I have the High Country in my DNA and I’m pretty tough, and you just have to not let it get it to you.”
Besides, if you dish it out, you have to be able to take it. A self-confessed “smartarse”, Sam says, “I give cheek on air, I’m opinionated, and as soon as you do that, you make yourself a target, so I can’t have a go at people on air and then cry when people have a go at me.”
She is only human, though, and she does cry sometimes, usually on the phone to her sister or parents. Breaking point came last year when she was accused of racism after an off-the-cuff remark in an interview with twins born of a mixed-race couple.
Introducing the sisters, who had radically different skin tones, she said, “Lucy got her dad’s fair skin – good on her! – along with straight red hair and blue eyes.” Sam explained later that it was a self-deprecating dig at her own freckly, Irish complexion, but the clip went viral. She was trolled by people from around the world and bombarded with death threats.
“I thought about quitting for a split second and then I thought, absolutely not – I’m not going to let the haters win, I’m not going to let the bastards win,” says Sam, who started in journalism 18 years ago working in regional TV and as a Canberra political correspondent before landing the coveted Sunrise role.
“I earned this job fair and square. I’m not going to apologise for taking the job. If people have a problem with that inside or outside the network, they need to take it up with the male executives who handed me the job. I’ve worked hard my whole career and this is my path.”
For the first twoand-a-half years of her Sunrise stint, she enjoyed a dream run, but 2016 has been a volatile year in breakfast TV, with rival Today head-to-head in the ratings. Sam blames set and cast changes at “Brekky Central” for putting viewers offside. “We had our arses kicked a bit, but we’re coming back,” she says. “We’ve pulled together and put our heads down again.”
Midway through her contract, Sam says the 3.40am wake-ups are a grind, but her daily schedule has brought welcome discipline into her life, meaning she’s fitter and healthier than ever. With little time to socialise, she savours lunches with friends and tries to visit her parents in Wagga Wagga, in southern NSW, every couple of months.
The country, she says, is a vital source of sustenance, so she’s looking to buy a farm. “I think my country values have never been stronger or more precious to me than they are right now,” says Sam.
“The country – you know, Mum and Dad and my upbringing – are actually becoming more important. When I go back to the country, my creativity comes back. There’s a real connection there. It’s taken me a long time to work out that’s what I need.”
A committed homebody, Sam loves D-I-Y projects and pottering in her veggie patch. She started her weekly “Sam Designs” segment on Sunrise this year to share her passion for interior decorating, and her own homewares line could also be in the offing.
All in all, on a happiness rating of one to 10, Sam reckons she’s a solid
“Newsrooms are not places for sissies … I’m pretty tough.”
8.5. “I’ve bought myself a house, I have a terrific life, I laugh a lot, I write, I work really hard on my humour, like I consider myself to be an interesting dinner guest and that’s important to me,” says Sam, who plans to start a blog. “I want to entertain people, I want to have an interesting life and I’m doing that. I’m completely content within myself, and anything or anyone that comes into my life now is an added bonus.”
Single since her 2012 split with Sydney hotelier Peter De Angelis, Sam has been romantically linked to everyone from Russell Crowe to Modern Family’s Eric Stonestreet, but often that’s only because she once stood within a five-metre radius of the man. She is dating, but there’s apparently “no one serious”.
She sometimes wonders why. “I think on occasion I’ve made bad judgments, wasted time,” says Sam, who admits to “thousands” of dating regrets. “I don’t for one minute, ever, blame my career because my career has actually never been that much of a priority …
“Maybe it’s timing. In my mind I don’t feel 40 and I’d like to think I don’t really look 40, whatever 40 is these days, and I haven’t had Botox yet. Maybe it was a bit of immaturity in the early years. In my early to mid-30s I think I was a lot needier than I am now perversely, and that’s always a disaster. It can’t be me carrying the weight of the relationship.”
Confident her kind, loyal, honest man is out there, Sam describes herself as an ultra-picky Virgo. “I’m going to sound conceited here, but I have plenty of options and I just go, ‘He’s a lovely guy, but he’s just not for me’,” she says.
“I don’t think that it’s all over for me – you know, fly the white flag.
I sort of feel like it’s happening, it’s just going to happen a bit later. I think that’s actually a good thing.”
Asked the inevitable questions about her baby plans, she is unfailingly polite, but (quite rightly) exasperated. “God help me, you’re all worse than my mother!” she says. “Honestly, fertility and relationships are the most difficult things for women to navigate ever, and to have to share your most personal details with the nation is just a little unfair.”
A male TV presenter wouldn’t be quizzed like that, but nor do men face the same prospect of diminished fertility post-40; Sam has always been open about wanting a family, which is why people wonder how she feels about not yet having one.
If she feels any urgency, though, she’s not admitting it. Acting out of fear, she reasons, rarely leads to the right decisions. “What is panicking going to achieve? You become one of those women you don’t want to become.”
In case you’re wondering, she has no intention of tackling motherhood alone and hasn’t considered donor
IVF or adoption. “You’ve got to stay positive – you’ve got to think about what you want,” she says. “It’s like riding a horse – look in the direction you’re going or you’re going to fall off. I keep the faith.”
The national interest in her ovaries (and, indeed, in all things Samantha Armytage) can be irritating, but she chooses to see the upside. “I find it quite flattering, it’s nice people care,” she says, with a laugh. “They won’t always care. One of these days they’ll move on to some other blonde and I’ll be left in peace – and I’ll cheer to the heavens.”
“Anything or anyone that comes into my life now is an added bonus.”