By Sarah Agnew
It was like the meeting of the clans, a meet of women.
Absolutely a phenomenon, surely never was there an occasion where such a disproportionate number of women of a certain age collected together on such a scale.
Such is the draw of Jason (still my favourite), Gary the talented one, Mark the little one, Howard the one with the lisp and Robbie still the cheeky one.
With stunning Welsh sunshine and a day off we started the day with a plan for posh lunch down the bay where already, although on a smaller scale, groups of female friends had multipled.
Without going into our disastrous munch, it deserves a post all its own. We moved swiftly on to preparations for the night out, and as every girl knows that’s part of the fun. For us, that involved bottles of 5.99 prosecco from Lidl’s. (It’s all about the prosecco these days.)
The hooped earrings came out for old times sake, a trimmed fringe, more natural than botox, hair tied up, instant facelift. (Women of a certain age need to consider such things.) And a maxi dress for good measure. I’m not saying I’m clinging on to my youth, but these are age obsessed times that we live in.
Now, primed with prosecco we meet more friends for more prosecco when suddenly it’s 20:15 and we hear word that Take That have already come on stage.
Sprinting across town and with no queues we’re straight in, not far from the stage and in time to hear a goosebump moment as tens of thousands of women sing the Welsh anthem in unison. (Watch the video.)
So far, it was the boys without Robbie in the centre of a sea of scented uplifted arms. A few songs later and Robbie appears on stage on his own. Acting cheeky beyond belief, he sings some anthems and feels his crotch.
We all join in with Angels. We love it. And then the boys appear, Take That reunited at last.
Just like their faithful fans, their faces tell their own story.
Twenty years earlier we had thought we were cool students, hanging at the Hippo club, a condemned building now knocked down. With decks, a DJ and a stray dog in the corner of our sitting room, a boulder in the grate, that ended up in Pentyrch pond, we had a poster of Take That above the mantelpiece. Our VHS collection contained Withnail and I, Pretty Woman, London Kills Me, and That That and Party.
Fast forward 20 years, reunited with best friends, we celebrate another reunion, our favourite boyband. Men in their prime fulfilling a need, with their brand of grown up sexy. Well, maybe Robbie not so much, but he always was the cheeky one.