A glamorous PR guru has revealed how she went from living in one of Australia’s most exclusive suburbs to sleeping in her car.
Glen-Marie Frost once lived the high life in Sydney, mixing it with the rich and famous, jet-setting across the globe, and residing in a lavish harbourside mansion.
But her world came crashing down after a divorce left the savvy businesswoman with barely any assets, money or a place to stay.
This is her incredible story of resilience.
Glen-Marie Frost (pictured) working at Miss International Quest in 1972
Early days
Glen-Marie grew up in Brisbane, where her mother ran a deportment school and modelling agency.
She did some modelling herself and won a swimsuit competition run by the Great Barrier Reef Promotional Council at the age of 18, becoming the ‘Coral Queen’, which introduced her to the world of media and public relations.
‘After winning that, I used to call myself the ‘Coral Trout’, but I was travelling around Australia and doing media interviews,’ Glen-Marie told Daily Mail Australia.
‘It’s almost like I was a little star. But I got to experience a different world outside Brisbane.’
Moving to Sydney
In 1969, at the age of 19, Glen-Marie moved to Sydney armed only with her parents’ good wishes, an electric frypan, a toaster, and an electric blanket.
Her career launched rapidly due to hard work and the belief people had in her.
‘I’ve been lucky like that, I’ve always had people there offering me a great opportunity. I’ve never applied for a job,’ Glen-Marie said.
She started working with the International Centre Foundation which conducted a home host scheme for overseas students staying with Australian families.
The organisation also ran the Miss International Quest to raise funds, and Glen-Marie chaperoned the winner to 13 countries around the world.
‘By 21, I was travelling the world as a guest of governments. It broadened my horizons from Brissy.’
She mixed with key political players in Canberra, applying for government grants ‘all by bluff’.
At 25, Glen-Marie was the face of the marketing campaign for Bankcard, Australia’s first mass credit card.
A publicity photo of Glen-Marie Frost (pictured)
Glen-Marie joined De Beers, a major diamond company, in 1978, as head of Australasia marketing.
Promoting diamonds was ‘a totally different ball game’.
The job took her to London, and New York as well as further-flung destinations across Asia and Europe – and she became known as the ‘Diamond Lady’.
‘I enjoyed the sophistication of it all. I embraced it. I learned so much about life,’ she said.
Glen-Marie worked for De Beers for five years, before deciding to head up her own international PR consultancy firm in 1983.
The glittering world of diamonds was appropriate. In the 1980s, Sydney was known as the ‘Emerald City’.
It was a decade of decadence, fuelled by Champagne and spectacular social events, including the famed costumed Cointreau Ball.
Glen-Marie recalls the ’80s as a heady time of working hard and playing hard.
‘Everything was about glamour and having fun and partying. It’s all right to party, but you still had to work the next day.’
‘It was the time of big hair, which I loved, particularly now I’ve lost most of it. It was shoulder pads, silhouette dress and high heels.’
Glen-Marie rubbed padded shoulders with Australia’s A-listers, Presidents and actors, including Donald Trump, Bill Clinton and the Queen.
In 1985 Glen-Marie married Bob Frost, the executive chairman of the Australian subsidiary of a UK property group.
The 80s in Sydney was a decade of decadence, including the extravagant costumed Cointreau Ball. Guests included John Kennerley (left) and Kerri-Anne Kennerley (right)
The glitzy wedding reception for around 300 guests including politicians and business types lasted until 4am.
Life was good, Glen-Marie had a stellar career, was married to the ‘most generous man in the world’ and then their son Andrew was born.
They also moved into a sprawling mansion in Bellevue Hill, in Sydney’s exclusive eastern suburbs.
In 1997, Glen-Marie was approached to work on the Sydney Olympics in the high-powered role of General Manager of Communications and Community Relations.
Glen-Marie has mixed feelings about this time, ‘Sydney was on fire. You were so proud to be Australian.’
However, the job was stressful.
‘The first couple of years, I just ran with it, and everything was going fine, and the last couple of years was like living hell.’
It was during her work on the Olympics cracks started to appear in Glen-Marie’s life.
Her husband’s company had earlier been going through some financial difficulty, but the lavish lifestyle had flowed on.
They were eventually forced to move into a rental property.
‘Sydney was on fire. You were so proud to be Australian,’ said Glen-Marie Frost. Cathy Freeman (pictured) after lighting the Olympic flame at the 2000 Sydney Olympics
Glen-Marie Frost (right) with Tracy Grimshaw (left)
Glen-Marie admits she should have been more vigilant and asked questions, but said like a lot of women, she didn’t.
‘I was always working so hard, and during the Olympics, I did get concerned about a couple of things.’
The couple separated in 2001, but not due to financial problems, Glen-Marie said.
‘We separated because he was feeling so bad about himself and he didn’t react well to me having such a profile with the Sydney Olympics.’
Glen-Marie walked away from the marriage with nothing but her personal effects, dignity and pride.
There was nothing to split after her divorce.
She then worked as an executive coach for Goldman Sachs and had other corporate clients, but was beset by medical problems and was forced to quit her job.
How Glen-Marie became homeless
She required knee surgery and thought she had private insurance but didn’t, and any funds went into the operation.
Glen-Marie had to wait a year for the surgery and as her work involved extensive travel she had to walk away.
‘You can’t be on a cane talking to young people.’
She only had superannuation from her time working on the Olympics: ‘I was the generation before superannuation,’ she explained.
That quickly went on rent and once exhausted, she had to face the fact she was homeless.
‘I hated the word ‘homeless’, but it was reality.’
‘When that happens, I guess you have a choice. You’re either a victim and say, ‘Woe is me, or else you think, well, what am I going to do about it?’
‘I think I lived in fear and anxiety for the first couple of years without doubt.’
Glen-Marie Frost stayed with friends, slept in her car for two nights and then moved into social housing in Woolloomooloo
Glen-Marie Frost wanted to share her story saying if homelessness can happen to her, it can happen to anyone, ‘Homelessness does not discriminate.’ Pictured: Homeless camp in Potts Point, Sydney
Her network of friends stepped in.
With her beloved cat Tigger, Glen-Marie stayed with former cabinet minister Helen Coonan and other friends over the next year.
Glen-Marie was conscious of not pushing the friendship and outstaying her welcome.
By now, she had undergone surgery on both knees and at 64 was unemployed, with no real prospects and no home.
It was during one of these dark times she lived in her car for two days.
‘I had a lot of soul searching, but there were times you just want to give in. And there was this one time that I just thought, why am I here?’
‘I’m better off to everybody if I’m not here. So you go through those moments, but then you reach inside, you think bugger it, this cannot be my life. This cannot dominate my life.’
The saving grace
She was invited to stay at the property of former politician Michael Yabsley in the Southern Highlands of NSW.
Six weeks became nearly four years as Glen-Marie moved between friends’ rural retreats.
She said this is when she found peace and ‘Where I really found me.’
Glen-Marie returned to Sydney, with friends paying for her first year’s accommodation and others taking her in for nine months before she moved into social housing, after being on a waitlist for seven years.
She had not had a home of her own for nearly seven years.
Her strength and resilience have shone through and her life now is about focusing on the future.
In 2017. Glen-Marie became a civil celebrant, conducting weddings and life celebrations.
‘I’m loving it. It’s totally different to me, but I’m a born romantic, so it suits me.’
Glen-Marie wanted to share her story if homelessness can happen to her, it can happen to anyone, ‘Homelessness does not discriminate.’
Glen-Marie Frost (rear) officiated at the wedding of singer Leo Sayer (right) and his wife Donatella (left)
‘I’m loving it. It’s totally different to me, but I’m a born romantic, so it suits me,’ Glen-Marie Frost said of her work as a celebrant
In 2022, she spoke of her lived experience at a NSW parliamentary inquiry Into Homelessness Amongst Older People Aged Over 55 in NSW.
‘One of the reasons I put myself out there was to help other women who say, ‘I don’t know what to do.’
Glen-Marie is passionate about giving back after what she has experienced and is now a media advocate and guest speaker for homeless women’s issues.
She is on the board of the Sunrise Foundation and New Beginnings Foundation and involved with The Equanimity Project.
The word that best describes Glen-Marie’s attitude on life is ‘resilience’.
‘I’m blessed with most wonderful son and our grandson. I don’t ever think of myself as being unhappy, I’m not surprised that I’m sort of persistent and resilient, because I’ve had some challenges in my life.’
Glen-Marie Frost (pictured) told a NSW parliamentary inquiry she was a living example of how homelessness can happen to anyone