By Fenella Souter

Copyright smh

Our family wasn’t in the fashion business at all. They’re doctors and lawyers, but from her early teens, Camilla was in love with fashion. We’d go to all-age concerts and Camilla would make her own outfits. She always looked very cool – lots of short skirts. It was the ’90s and grunge [was popular]. She liked hanging out with my friends, and ended up marrying one of them.

All our stand-up rows finished by the age of about eight, but of course, as siblings and business partners, we’ve had every disagreement you could possibly have. If you observed our conversations in a business setting, you might think they were “robust”, but we move on quickly. Long ago, we made a policy of “the best argument wins”, and have stuck to it.

Outside business, we holiday together and have one or two family dinners a week, or social things. We’ve both got three children but hers are much older, so she’s very good at giving advice. Our partners handle our sibling relationship very well. We all joke about it. Sometimes Camilla’s husband, Dave, gets called Marc, or my wife, Nicole, gets called Camilla.

I was 13 and Camilla was 11 when our mum passed away from ovarian cancer at 42. She was ill for a long time and our parents had been honest with us, but when she actually passed, it was a huge loss. One day you’ve got your mum, and the next you haven’t. It would have been particularly hard for Camilla. Dad was a good father but outnumbered. We weren’t bad kids, but he was strict and we pushed the envelope.

As we came up to our mother’s age, we started looking into the best way to help with ovarian cancer research. It didn’t feel right that the survival statistics had hardly changed. We found the best researchers right here at UNSW. We’re both passionate about the “Ovaries. Talk About Them” campaign.