The sad downfall and tragic end of celebrity stylist Jo Ferguson
A decade ago, Jo Ferguson was a glamorous Sydney socialite with the world at her feet. But last week she passed away in Adelaide aged just 46 – unable to face the prospect of staying sober for six months to qualify for a lifesaving liver transplant.
National
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When faced with the prospect of remaining sober for six months to qualify for a lifesaving liver transplant or dying, fashion stylist and one-time society “It girl” Jo Ferguson made an unlikely choice.
She instructed doctors at an Adelaide hospital to turn off the machines that had been filtering her blood and keeping her alive.
That decision, made last Sunday, would end the 46-year-old’s life within three short days, and leave loved ones searching for answers that might explain the private pain that consumed Ferguson, driving a girl seemingly with the world at her feet to alcoholism.
For years the one-time magazine fashion stylist had been in and out of hospital recovering from falls, blackouts and myriad medical issues that were, she confided to anyone willing to listen, the result of some bewildering misadventures.
There were tales of increasingly frequent blood and plasma transfusions, of indifferent strangers sleeping on her couch and horrific falls down flights of stairs, of airport trolley accidents and house robberies, of grand planned trips abroad and hospital robberies, of blood poisoning and taxi drivers running over her perfectly manicured feet, and random acts of kindness by ostracised royals.
All of this she posted to Facebook and Instagram in plain sight of her so-called friends — Hugo’s Lounge and Q Bar gods and goddesses all, at one time or other — most of whom failed to show compassion to one who had lost her social status and power years ago.
Ferguson had once been invaluable to the same crowd.
In the noughties she had been a go-to adviser to Sydney’s fashionable celebrity class.
If one needed a chic outfit to guarantee a repeat invitation to Flemington’s Birdcage, or a head-turning stroll down the red carpet at the Logies or a prominent run in the newspaper social pages, Ferguson was a handy woman to know.
She would bend over backwards — beg, borrow and maybe even steal — for a client or friend unwilling or unable to spend thousands on a one-time-wear ensemble.
Of course not everyone needed a freebie.
Some, like model Kristy Hinze, became firm friends with Ferguson in the mid-’90s after the pair met at the start of their respective careers, when 16-year-old Hinze started appearing in Cleo magazine and Ferguson was the 22-year-old assistant to that magazine’s then fashion editor Nicole Bonython.
Fourteen years later, Hinze would recognise years of friendship and loyalty with Ferguson by asking her to be bridesmaid at her 2009 Caribbean wedding to Texan billionaire Jim Clark.
The wedding capped a remarkable decade for the stylist, who also enjoyed the attention of a series of prominent bachelors and suitors through those years.
It was the collapse of one relationship that some believe to have been the catalyst for Ferguson’s emotional and professional breakdown.
As the much-told story goes, the relationship ended when the love of Ferguson’s life accidentally pocket-dialled her while having sex with another woman.
Shattered by the betrayal, Ferguson promptly fell apart.
As Sydney society showed her its coldest shoulder, she found solace at the Clovelly Hotel.
Her employer, publisher ACP, where the fellow had powerful social connections, soon cut ties with her.
With the local fashion industry teetering on the brink of collapse, Ferguson struggled with freelance work.
She ended up dipping a toe into unexpected areas to pay the rent.
As Sydney grew colder and more hostile, former Elle magazine editor turned Hush Communications PR director Lisa Poulos, one who supported Ferguson to the bitter end, last week described Ferguson’s death as a needless tragedy.
Having spent recent years checking Ferguson into and out of hospitals, attempting to rehabilitate her career and finally encouraging her friend to move home to family in Adelaide, Poulos hoped the worst was finally behind Ferguson when she excitedly started showing off photographs of a new townhouse bought in January with her superannuation funds.
“I was telling her she had a chance to reinvent herself as an interior decorator and fashion stylist in Adelaide and I really believed she could make it. She had so much to offer and was so talented,” Poulos said.
“Her great weakness, and she’s not unique in this, is she wanted so desperately to be loved and that was harder. She was unlucky in love.”
During their last conversation 10 days ago, Ferguson told her she was dying.
“I could see from the photos of her new house that she had everything in order. Her things, her beautiful wardrobes. It was like she’d tidied everything up in readiness to go.
“Then she said, ‘If I’m going to die, I’m ready — I’ve had my lashes, my nails and my hair extensions done. I’m set.’”