Author and new media company chief executive Hannah Ferguson is home for the weekend.
Opening the car door, a wave of wood smoke and crisp air meets her.
“I always love coming to Orange, especially when it starts to get cold,” Hannah said.
Bucolic Orange in central west NSW is worlds away from Hannah’s usual schedule of interviewing prime ministers, addressing the National Press Club or conducting speaking tours.
It’s also a long way from Ingleburn, the western Sydney suburb where she started life, a move she said would affect her profoundly.
“Moving from a low socio-economic area of Sydney at a public school where there was so much diversity and so much conversation around me that was different to what I was experiencing at home,” she said.
“To be taken then to a regional area meant that suddenly my whole worldview was like a white regional one with a conservative Catholic skew.”
But Hannah believes straddling both demographics growing up has ultimately given her an edge.
“I’m actually so glad that I grew up [in Orange] and that I had those different experiences.“
Hannah Ferguson grew up in a house where no topic was off the table. She and her mum still don’t always agree. (Compass: Hannah Ross)
The emerging media star with a feminist bent is back in country NSW to see her mum, professional bra fitter Phillipa Mitchell.
Mother and daughter have found themselves on a similar path of empowering women, but just don’t expect them to see it that way.
“Her work to go into schools … to go and work with breast care nurses. That’s all political in the current climate,” Hannah said.
Philippa disagrees.
“I see it as a community service.”
Hannah’s professional star might be on the rise, but coming home will always be grounding.
“It is such a good temperature check,” Hannah said.
“My parents are two people that I disagree with strongly, but [we] really foster that disagreement.“
The Cheek
Hannah recalled a childhood where every topic was on the table.
“My parents valued my contribution to the conversation as if I was an adult and their equal,” she said.
“They were always welcoming of the tough conversations and the tough questions, whether it be about politics, about how babies are made … they were like, ‘Come to us, let’s talk about it’.”
By year four, Hannah Ferguson was already interested in politics, showing more interest in the Electoral Commission than Questacon. (Supplied: Hannah Ferguson)
Philippa described a bright kid with a strong sense of self early on, who declared the Electoral Commission as her personal highlight after a school excursion to Canberra.
“She said, ‘Now I understand preferential voting’. She was in year four,” Philippa said.
“She could talk before she could walk, read before she went to school. Always bright.“
In 2020, aged just 21, Hannah co-founded a media company called Cheek Media.
“We’re an independent, new media platform that exists to challenge existing power structures and provide a progressive feminist lens on the news,” Cheek Media editor Kalila Rose said.
“I know it was created for what Hannah felt was a really big gap.”
Cheek started out tackling news and politics in short, sharp takes that could fit on an Instagram slide and quickly amassed a 200,000-plus audience.
Then came the 2025 election campaign that saw more than 4 million people connect with Cheek for their commentary.
Its popularity thrust Hannah to the forefront of political discourse in Australia and had politicians, including the prime minister, vying for a spot on her platform.
“Australia was having its Me Too moment,” Hannah said.
“We were commentating on things that were so pertinent to our audience as well and that was an opportunity.”
Last year, Hannah took Cheek on the road with a live show called Everything is F*cked, but not before announcing her tilt for the NSW Senate in an address at the National Press Club.
Hannah Ferguson addresses the National Press Club, where she announced her intention to run for the NSW Senate. (ABC News)
‘Fact-based information’
Hannah’s decision to run raised concerns for Phillipa, but not the usual kind of maternal reservations.
“I thought, she’s not going to be able to tow the party line.”
“So, when she said she was going to run as an independent, I thought, yeah, that’s perfect.”
When it came to taking on the bruising world of politics, Phillipa felt Hannah was sufficiently seasoned.
“You’re a 27-year-old woman and the death threats and things, I think it gave you good experience for going into politics.
“I didn’t like that it happened, but I feel like it had to happen.”
For Hannah, this no-nonsense approach has been a cornerstone of their relationship.
“It’s not meant to hurt you, it’s just ‘fact-based information’, mum’s classic line.”
But it is also at the core of her own authenticity and has been the thing most valuable to her audience and enraging to her detractors.
“In many ways, it’s the reason so much of my audience trusts me because I am up-front about who I am,” Hannah said.
“When I get the death threats and threats of violence, I’m not sure if it’s about being a young woman so much as I think it’s about being confident and having something to say.“
A caravan called Beryl
A defining moment for both women was Philippa’s divorce from Hannah’s father in her final year of school.
Not for the first time, Hannah shares her mother’s pragmatic take.
“It was extremely hard, but also what would have been harder is watching my parents remain in an unhappy marriage,” Hannah said.
Her truck driver father now lives in Queensland and remains a steadfast, daily source of support and audience insight.
“I think I get my social kind of extroversion from my dad, who I just love very much.
“I love the fact that he listens to talkback radio 12 hours a day, but then he’ll ring me and go, ‘Yeah, I’ll listen to the pod and I’ll listen to Abbie Chatfield’s as well’ and he’ll just give me what he’s thinking.
“That’s actually what Australia should be about.”
For Philippa, the divorce would spark a profound new purpose.
After a long career as a marriage and funeral celebrant, a lingerie consultant spotted her deft touch with people as they exhibited side by side at a Dubbo bridal expo.
“She said to me, ‘You should be selling bras,’ and I’m like, ‘No, I’m a marriage celebrant. I’m not going to sell bras’.”
But Orange’s Myer just happened to be closing, meaning a stack of quality bras were up for the taking.
“I thought, well, it gets me out of the house.”
Philippa Mitchell travels across regional NSW in Beryl, her mobile bra fitting caravan. (Compass: Nisa East)
Her mobile bra fitting service, administered from a chrome sunliner caravan called Beryl now traverses western NSW, plugging a crucial gap in regional women’s health.
Women like breast cancer survivor Catherine Adams, who lost her specialised bras in the Eugowra floods of 2022.
“I said to my sister, ‘Can you get me a bra?’ because I’ve had a mastectomy, and she said that she would get onto [Philippa].
“I really appreciate what [Philippa] did because I might have been in a bit of trouble, I think.
“I’m not sure where I would have gone to get them in an emergency like that.”
Catherine said it took her 13 years to be able to talk about the loss of her breast, stoicism Philippa says she encounters daily.
“I find it very emotional and it’s incredible for me that these women allow me to be part of such a personal and intimate journey,” Philippa said.
“I believe in the empowerment of women. [But] I don’t see my work as being feminist.“
Hannah disagrees.
“Her work every day is to fit, support women, to give them agency and autonomy,” Hannah said.
“To help women who have had mastectomies, significant surgery and a traumatic health experience.
“I don’t want to politicise these basic things that shouldn’t be controversial, but that’s a really important act, especially in a regional community that doesn’t have these services and resources available.”
Watch Uplifting Women — Hannah Ferguson and her Mum on Compass tonight at 6:30pm on ABC TV or stream now on iview.
