Queen of fashion a dame for her boundless generosity
SHE called everyone ‘‘darling’’, probably because there were so many people passing through her life she couldn’t remember all of their names. But it was also a ploy. How could you say ‘‘no’’ to someone who called you darling?
Charity queen Dame Rosemary Anne Horton died, aged 83, in Auckland Hospital last Sunday night with Michael Horton, her beloved husband of nearly 40 years, by her side.
She was a dame with a line of honours — DNZM, QSO, QSM — after her name but everyone called her Rosie. She was the consummate Remuera lady, impeccably dressed and blowwaved, smiling while she shoehorned donations out of her wealthy ‘‘darlings’’. She must have persuaded her friends and contacts to part with millions of dollars of philanthropic donations over four decades of charity work.
She was most closely associated with two philanthropic juggernauts, the Starship Foundation and the New Zealand Breast Cancer Foundation.
Dame Rosie was just 23 when her mother, Olga, died from breast cancer, a death that led her to become founding trustee of the Breast Cancer Foundation, chairing the organisation from 1995 to 2005.
She was also involved with smaller charities, among which were the Rautakauri Music Therapy Trust, World Child Cancer, Yellow Belle for New Zealand Women’s Refuge, Abbeyfield NZ, the Athlae Lyon Starship Research Trust, Macular Degeneration, Friends of Aotea, the Aotea Centre Performing Arts Trust and the University of Auckland’s Centre of Brain Research.
Dame Rosie’s tireless and at times relentless fundraising was recognised by a string of awards, including Dame Companion of the New Zealand Order of Merit in 2011 for her services to philanthropy and the Queen’s Service Medal for community service in 1993, and she was appointed a Companion of the Queen’s Service Order for community service in 2004.
It was a meeting with the late Queen, back in the 1980s, that Dame Rosie would say later helped form her charitable work. She and Michael Horton were invited aboard the royal yacht Britannia to meet the Queen after attending a
Commonwealth Press Conference in Trinidad.
‘‘Her example set me on the road to be a giver, not a taker,’’ Dame Rosie said in an interview.
She was also influenced by Lady Margaret Myers (the late Sir Douglas Myers’ mother), who told her that she couldn’t sit around doing nothing, she had to give back.
And do something she did, employing her Master of Networking skills to raise money for those in need. She lunched and dined with New Zealand’s rich and famous, but behind the socialising, her charity work was never far away. She joked that she’d sit outside CEOs’ offices until they got sick of her and agreed to help so that she’d go away.
Dame Rosie met Michael, whose family owned Wilson & Horton, publishers of
until 1996, in the 1980s when she was working for packaging company UEB, where she computerised the company’s library.
Dame Rosie’s stepson, Matthew Horton, said the experience left her with a strong suite of skills and disciplines when she transitioned to charity work.
Dame Rosie knew she had a role to play, knocking on corporate doors and shaking the can at society luncheons. She was famous for her wardrobe — rows of dresses, crisp blouses teamed with pearls, and shoes, lots of them. The collection filled multiple wardrobes both in her Auckland home and an apartment in Queensland’s Sanctuary Cove that she shared with her husband of 39 years.
So famous was her wardrobe that the Topp Twins furtively organised guided tours of the hostess’ walkin, with members of the gathered high society paying extra for a peek, hilarious footage that was included in a documentary.
Dame Rosie is survived by her husband, Michael, her daughter, Vicky, her stepsons, Matthew and James, and five grandchildren. — Jane Phare