b'HANNAH BETTSBack in the days before cancer loomed over our lives, I became virtual allies with the redoubtable Ms Jones for staunchly frivolous reasons: a shared love of tweeted fashion. We sighed over baubles and bibelots, turquoise Topshop jackets and tinselled vintage finds. I may have boasted a style column, but she was considerably coolerall sass and bob and a 21st Century take on the mod.Alas, 2014 propelled us both into grimmer territory. Caroline lostfillip we needed: it signalled cheer, undiminished selfdom, and the her mother, Mary, to cancer in late October. Two days beforepromise of some different future; it was armour as it was joy.Christmas, my own mother, Pam, was discovered to have thatWe also had Carolines posts. Ms Jones was our embodiment same savage disease.of life beyond the sickbed, her communications a daily delight. So Pam was diagnosed in the wake of Decembers shortest day,many times, I woke after a punishing nights watch to take sartorial and died in June on the longestthe swiftest, slowest, six monthssolace in what my friend had donned. of our lives. Every other week found her hurtling towards death,Carolines style has such exuberance: all colour and attitude, hot then rescued from it, until she could be rescued no more.on juxtaposition and a winning way with accessories. I loved her For the last 15 years of her life, my mother and I had enduredmannish as I did glam, in tartan and Bretons, pinstripes and prom a troubled relationship. From my early thirties, she refused to haveskirts, tweeds and T-bars, shirtdresses and shorts. any contact with me for almost a decade, encouraging my family toKnickers Models Own appealed to my love of vintage, and follow suit. The offence had been my fathers, but the punishmentclothes begged, borrowed, or purloined. It conjured my mothers was mine, and I was agonised by it.cherry red Sixties twinset, stolen by me aged 11; the creations She kept my articles, but refused my presence until my earlymade by my grandmother; and the Fifties, emerald brocade, ice-forties. There was no apology and she brooked no discussion. Norcream cone breasted, cocktail frock that I sported my first term at would she. For that first Christmas back in her company was theOxford, after which it tragically fell apart. Christmas of her diagnosis. To this day, my most beloved party outfit (pictured here) is a Throughout the final months of my mothers life, one thingForties, gold-sequinned, eBay bolero, a sheath dress Ive owned about our relationship that flourished unaltered was our sharedfor 23 years, and my 40th birthday Louboutins, teamed with a love of style. Her body may have been betraying her in the mostpre-loved YSL clutch.grotesquely Rabelaisian of manners, but Pam continued to adorn itMy mother never came to terms with the prospect of her with scarves, scent and lipgloss.death, so resolutely did she cling to us. One spring weekend, we Sheporedoverweddingdresseswithmynewlyengageddistracted ourselves with eBay bidding for a coruscating Herms sister, and ordered me a pair of ravishing, silk pyjamas for my 44thscarf bedecked with a carousel horse. Days later, I wore it to find birthday, to wear on a romantic weekend with my new boyfriend,her in the hospice where she spent the final three weeks of her life.a trip that had to be cancelled as once more her health plummeted.At Pams funeral, my 10 year-old niece dressed herself like a Meanwhile, my immediate act in those nightmarish months wasyoung Coco Chanel: a white blouse, jet skirt, jewelled flats, pearl to build myself a wardrobe in the bedroom I hadnt occupied sinceearrings and quilted bag, teamed with a camellia hairband and the age of 18. Harpenden Cancer Research doesnt yet boast anballerinas bun. Not everyone understood her marriage of chic online outlet, so I was confined to non-pre-loved sources. Thatwith grief. I understood itas her grandmother would have done. said, Im from Birmingham, meaning my fashion remains frugal evenFashion is how we face the world.where its quantities spiral. And so I amassed a uniform of mens shirts and Gap strides for nursing duties; vast, soft ASOS shawls to hide under next to her bed; a brisk, navy pea-jacket; baby blue coat; glitter pumps and threeHannah Betts(three!) boucl jackets. She thrilled to one and all. Fashion was theFeature Writer & ColumnistPage 118'