Roseanna Ruane announces makeup collaboration in daughter's honour for charity
Saoírse won the hearts of the nation in 2020 when she appeared on the Late Late Toy Show, with her appearance on the show, where she spoke to Ryan Tubridy about losing her leg to cancer, inspiring the Toy Show Appeal and raising millions for charity.
While Saoírse passed away in March 2024, aged 12, her legacy has continued long after her passing — with her mum Roseanna saying that BePerfect cosmetics will be collaborating with her, with all of the proceeds from the sales of the makeup range being donated to two charities. Roseanna Ruane with her daughter Saoírse. Pic: Instagram
'We are so proud to reveal the Saoírse and Mamma Collection – created in memory of the beautiful Saoírse Ruane.
'Saoírse inspired the nation with her strength, her smile, and her unforgettable spirit. This collection is a tribute to her light – filled with the colours she would have loved and the joy she brought to everyone who knew her.'
The range includes a face and eye palette, lipstick, lip liner and lip oil, with the cosmetics company confirming that they will be donating 100% of the proceeds to Hand in Hand, a children's cancer charity in Galway, and the Cancer Fund for Children, 'to support families on their difficult journeys.' Roseanna Ruane and Ollie Ruane with their daughter Farrah Rose at the launch of the BPerfect Cosmetics Saoirse & Mamma collection in aid of Children's cancer charities at The Leinster, Dublin. Pic: Brian McEvoy
The collaboration comes as Roseanna recently spoke about how she found out her daughter's time was 'limited' and that there was no more that could be done in her cancer battle.
Speaking to Ryan Tubridy, whose first encounter with Saoírse and Roseanna inspired the Toy Show Appeal, Roseanna said that the family still weren't ready to speak about the full weight of Saoírse's loss, but revealed that a CT scan in April 2023 was when they found out the news no parent wants to hear. Roseanna Ruane speaking at the launch of the BPerfect Cosmetics Saoirse & Mamma collection in aid of Children's cancer charities at The Leinster, Dublin. Pic: Brian McEvoy
'She presented very well and the CT scan was done and it was, 'Sure, lookit, we'll give you a ring later,' this was the norm. Off we go down to Galway,' Roseanna said. 'We thought no more of it, we thought it was going to be another good review, but it wasn't.'
'We got the CT scans before we ever left Dublin. We were just called into a room and you know it's that look between the doctor and you in the corridor and the beckoning, I just knew. Roseanna Ruane and BPerfect Cosmetics founder Brendan McDowell at the launch of the BPerfect Cosmetics Saoirse & Mamma collection in aid of Children's cancer charities at The Leinster, Dublin. Pic: Brian McEvoy
''We were told that day that there was no more they could do — they could keep throwing chemo at her; they could keep having surgeries and surgeries but… She had started initially with the cancer in the tibia in her leg and then she got cancer in her leg and this was a relapse… it just kept coming,' Roseanna shared. BPerfect Cosmetics founder Brendan McDowell with Roseanna Ruane and Ollie Ruane with their daughter Farrah Rose at the launch of the BPerfect Cosmetics Saoirse & Mamma collection in aid of Children's cancer charities at The Leinster, Dublin. Pic: Brian McEvoy
'We were being told her time was limited now, and this was April 2023 and I asked the question would we have her for Christmas and I was told possibly not. That's the day we started grieving the life that we knew was ahead.'
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Irish Independent
8 hours ago
- Irish Independent
‘This felt like a beautiful tribute to Saoírse' – Roseanna Ruane on grief and launching a fundraising make-up edit to continue her daughter's legacy
Dealing with the grief of losing her daughter to cancer last year, Roseanna Ruane talks about how she is coping and the ways she and her family are keeping Saoírse's spirit and fundraising work alive Roseanna Ruane laughs gently agreeing that at 13, her eldest daughter Saoírse would no doubt be campaigning to get on TikTok, eager to do make-up tutorials and create GRWM (get ready with me)content. 'She was mad into make-up,' smiles Roseanna. 'She was always asking me if she could use my eyeshadow and she'd all her own make-up brushes.' A smartphone was on the horizon as a future birthday present once she was a bit older. 'She'd asked to get the phone,' says Roseanna. 'But she never got it.' In March 2024, Saoírse passed away aged just 12. The brave Galway girl had won hearts all over Ireland after appearing on The Late Late Toy Show in 2020 when she chatted guilelessly and beautifully with host Ryan Tubridy about the osteosarcoma tumour on her tibia that had led to the amputation of her right leg. Throughout her journey with cancer, Saoírse had always displayed an incredible desire to help others, helping raise millions of euro for other children in need. Now it's a legacy her family are determined to carry on in her name.
Irish Times
2 days ago
- Irish Times
Oddbody by Rose Keating: Superbly crafted horror stories about having a body and being a woman
Oddbody Author : Rose Keating ISBN-13 : 978-1837261864 Publisher : Canongate Guideline Price : £14.99 A clue – and more than a clue – to the nature of Rose Keating's aesthetic can be found in the title of the fourth story included in Oddbody, her debut collection: Bela Lugosi Isn't Dead. If you know your subcultural history, you will be aware that Bela Lugosi's Dead is the title of the 1979 Bauhaus song that originated Goth Rock. The lyric '[F]lowers/bereft in deathly bloom' gives a fair sample of the foundational Goth vibe. A certain quality of deadpan camp; a theatrical morbidity; flowers, graveyards, bats at twilight, love lies bleeding; a sonic landscape of skeletal post-punk rattle and boom. The Goths – late descendants of the 19th-century decadent movement – are still with us: street romantics of lace, leather and eyeliner, here to remind us that life and death are, if they're anything, aesthetic phenomena. Bela Lugosi , in full Dracula drag, duly appears, undead, in Bela Lugosi Isn't Dead. Bela, or his cinematic ghost, is the intimate companion or pet of a 14-year-old girl, Saoirse. 'We're sick,' Bela tells Saoirse, in the story's opening lines, as they wake up in her bedroom. Mam bustles in: 'Up.' Bela disports himself, bursts, stinks, transforms into a bat. Mam doesn't bat an eyelid (sorry) until, halfway through the story, she finally says, 'I think this needs to stop […] I remember what this was like, at your age […] But Saoirse, I'm sorry. It's not healthy. He is bad for you.' A stricken teenage girl haunted by the ghost of Bela Lugosi-as-Dracula; the whole thing treated, by every character, with imperturbable matter-of-factness, as if it's an accepted part of life, of growing up. The suggestion – via mention of the 'overexposed' photo of Dad that 'Mum keeps on the mantlepiece' – that Bela is the externalisation of unmanageable feelings: grief, adolescent malaise, adolescent morbidity. The story is deadpan, even as more death (in this case of Saoirse's cat, Ginger) obtrudes, even as Bela guides Saoirse towards fantasies of resurrection and repair. Or are they, in fact, realities? READ MORE Bela Lugosi Isn't Dead is a neat example of Keating's deadpan expressionism. The title story, Oddbody, works similarly. A second-person protagonist is followed around, haunted, hectored, entertained, by a ghost; in the world of this story, having a ghost is normal, if socially fraught, like being depressed, or – another possible metaphor here – being on your period. 'Did you bring your ghost to my flat?' asks the protagonist's unpleasant boyfriend, Ben. 'Do you have any idea how inappropriate that is?' The ghost urges 'you' to consider suicide; viciously criticises 'your' body ('Look at the bulging waves of cellulite rippling across the inner thighs'); is, nonetheless, familiar, even beloved. The tightness of its embrace 'feels so very much like being held'. It should by now be obvious that Keating isn't just a prose Goth. Her stories draw on another powerful tributary – specifically, feminist arguments about the fates of the female body under patriarchy. The ghost, in Oddbody, sounds like depression – and the story works beautifully as a dark and funny account of that state. But equally, the ghost sounds like the messages that patriarchy whispers and shouts to women. 'It's not a bad ghost,' the protagonist insists to Ben, 'I'm fine, really.' At one point, 'the ghost has given in to diffusion'. It's everywhere – like depression; like a ruling ideology. Expressionism – see Kafka – works by literalising emotional states or political ideas. The 10 stories in Oddbody are all expressionist in this sense. In the funniest story, Squirm, a young woman named Laura is taking care of her father; her father, formerly human, is now a large segmented worm who lives in a soil-filled bath. Nobody in the story thinks this is strange. 'Is there something wrong with him?' asks Liam, a man Laura meets on a fetish website. 'He's a worm,' Laura replies. Liam, driving them through the countryside, says, 'Look, sheep.' In Kafka's Metamorphosis, Gregor Samsa's family suffers social embarrassment at the fact that Gregor is now an insect; Keating riffs on this surrealist insight to tell startling, funny, alarming stories about what happens to our feelings when they collide with the social world, and about how that social world can mould our feelings, especially if we are women. # [ Short stories from Kafka to the Kafkaesque: making strange again Opens in new window ] In Next to Cleanliness, a young woman undergoes a 'cleanse' supervised by a charismatic doctor; it strips her down to her skeleton. In Eggshells, women lay literal eggs; it is a social faux pas to lay one at work. The stories in Oddbody are superbly crafted – though they might perhaps best be read one at a time (a certain sameness is detectable if you read them one after the other). The prose is confident, witty and perceptive. These are sharp and memorable horror stories about the most ordinary horrors: having a body; having a heart; being a woman in the 21st-century West. Kevin Power is assistant professor of English at Trinity College Dublin
Irish Examiner
3 days ago
- Irish Examiner
'Saoírse is my guiding light — I feel she's minding us up there'
'SAOÍRSE was the one who made me a mother,' says Roseanna Ruane, recalling the January 2012 night when her precious firstborn arrived. 'The night I had her, I remember the enormous love I felt. I remember turning to my dad, asking him, 'How did you share out all the love you had as a parent to all of your children?' I was so in love with her.' Saoírse was all about love. The 12-year-old passed away following a long battle with cancer in March 2024, the Galway girl who had won the hearts of Ireland with her Late Late Toy Show appearance in 2020. 'A big part was she was so pleasant and happy-go-lucky, people loved her nature,' says Ruane. Among the memories that sustain her, that give her a guide for how to go on, is a walk down Grafton St a few years ago. 'I was looking in a shop window when Saoírse saw someone fundraising. She said to Ollie, 'I want to give something to that man'. She put her hand in her bag and took out what she had — €30. Ollie, trying to teach her about money, said, 'You don't have to give it all'. 'When she was asked later why she felt she wanted to do that, she said, 'Because I thought they needed it more than I did'. That was very much her. She was always kind and giving. We learned from her. Children look up to their parents. I look up to her. She's my guiding light. I feel she's minding us up there.' Bernadette McGarvey, from Cancer Fund for Children, and Roseanna Ruane pictured at the launch of the BPerfect Cosmetics 'Saoirse & Mamma' Collection in aid of Children's Cancer Charities at The Leinster,Dublin. Picture Brian McEvoy Over the past year, Roseanna and BPerfect Cosmetics founder Brendan McDowell have been collaborating on a new collection in memory of Saoírse. The limited-edition, four-piece make-up capsule — named the Saoírse & Mamma Collection — launched last week in Dublin. 'Saoírse loved her lip gloss and her eye shadow and anything that sparkled. It was a good fit,' says Ruane, recalling when the brand first approached her in 2023, that she asked Saoírse's opinion on it. 'Because it was always a Saoírse and Mamma page, I'd ask Saoírse what she thought of any partnerships, out of respect for her. And when I asked how she felt about this one, she reacted so well. She always just wanted me to smile and be happy. She was a real girly girl, who loved her make-up, too.' All proceeds from the collection go to two children's cancer charities: Co Galway-based Hand in Hand, and Cancer Fund for Children. So far, €140,000 of the €200,000 target goal has been raised to support families navigating childhood cancer. Recalling a vow she made 'to give back' when the family was starting on their cancer journey with Saoírse, Ruane says: 'A social worker told us a particular charity would give a grant to a family in this situation. I broke down crying. The amount of money —you could use it to pay your mortgage for a month or your groceries for a few weeks. I vowed I'd give back to that charity and to any others, though I didn't know how we'd do it.' Cancer had spread Saoirse Ruane with her mum Roseanna from Galway, pictured on the set of The Late Late Show for a segment on the The RTÉ Toy Show Appeal. Picture Andres Poveda A fundraiser was why Saoírse wanted to be at school on the last day before the 2023 Christmas holidays. It turned out to be her final day ever in Kiltullagh NS. 'She had to go for a CT scan, but was adamant she wanted to go into school, because of the fundraiser that day. She begged me to not miss school, so I had to work my magic to get her a very early scan in Galway. She was in school for 9.25 — she was thrilled.' By then things had started to take a turn for the worse. Ruane says the hospital rang two hours later to say the findings weren't good — they needed Saoírse back in. 'I had to go into school, take her out again at 12, do what we always did: Pretend everything was OK, smile. On that return journey to UCHG, we discovered the cancer had spread to numerous other places. 'It was a very difficult day. We were finding out more bad news. But Saoírse had got to do what was important to her and that made her happy, which, in turn, made us happy.' Roseanna doesn't 'know how' she and Ollie got through the ordeal. 'It was bad news after bad news and, you know, we did what we needed to do: Got her the care, the second opinions, got her very well looked after. In the end, cancer won.' Support from the public helped. 'When they found cancer in her lung in May 2022, Saoírse was very well known at that stage. We got a lot of support. We asked for prayers, for people to light candles, and they did. The people of Ireland willed her on. They became so invested in her journey.' How are she, Ollie, and six-year-old Farrah Rose doing? 'I don't know how we're doing, really. It's not something you can compare,' says Ruane, who believes people can't grasp the grief of losing a child unless they've experienced it. 'People are empathetic, but they don't fully understand the magnitude of the loss, the pain. There are certain people [with similar losses] we've bonded with, who we meet, chat with. That's comforting.' No two people grieve in the same way. 'Even myself and Ollie wouldn't be grieving the same way at the very same time. If I'm having a hard day, he mightn't be and then he's my support, and vice versa. 'I just have to keep busy. And it's very important to get up for Farrah Rose every day. What good would I be to her if I was to stay in bed? Life has been hard on her — she deserves to have some kind of happiness in her childhood.' Farrah Rose was five when her sister died. 'The two got on brilliantly together. They loved each other's company. That's the hardest part — that friendship, her best friend, taken from her. She's very young to understand it all. Sometimes, she'll ask, 'Why?', and we sit and try to explain as best we can. We say, 'We'll be able to tell you more when you're older'. 'She actually prays to Saoírse, sends little wishes up to her, and talks to her at night. She refers to her a lot — 'There's a butterfly, that's Saoírse coming to say hello', or 'Look, a robin, there's Saoírse'.' Ruane never shies away from speaking about Saoírse. 'The way I look at it, she should be here and she's not, and why should we stop talking about her?' Trying to be grateful Saoirse Ruane, pictured at The Late Late Toy Show 2020. Ruane's charity work, always in Saoírse's honour, sustains her. And energy healing helps hugely. 'Some people do counselling. I do energy healing. I find it really helps. It involves talking, part grief counselling, grounding where the healer grounds me and maybe sets me up for something big coming up and keeps my vibrations high. I'm very much in to what we put out in the universe, we get back. 'Gratitude is huge. It can be hard to be grateful. I'd been journalling, writing down what I was grateful for, but I went through a stage when Saoírse relapsed where I scrapped it and said, 'What's the point?' But I've slowly gone back to it — I find being grateful rewards you in its own way,' she says, recalling how Saoírse 'loved the archangels and her little crystals'. When Ruane — at home in Galway — was putting together ideas, colours, and textures for the just-launched cosmetics range, she found herself pulled up short. 'A rainbow appeared on the bed where I had all the stuff laid out. It was from a dream-catcher. And when I arrived up to Belfast, sat down for the day to talk about the collection, a rainbow appeared on the floor, as bright as anything, and there was no sun-catcher. I just felt: Saoírse's here, she wants this. She's setting up the things to do in her name.' The Saoírse & Mamma collection is available at and in stores across Ireland. Every purchase supports families going through childhood cancer Read More Julie Jay: We must teach children that nothing in life is guaranteed
