Singing in the rain - Take That

On Wednesday night  my friend Caroline and I boarded a packed train, joined a massive snake of hyper 30 - 40something women, who had swapped their killer heels for wellies and plastic ponchos, and made our way over the railway bridge, past the houses and mounted police and skipped and giggled our way to Hampden Park. Take That and Robbie Williams were playing to a packed stadium and the atmosphere was electric.

We were giggling like school girls, hand in hand, racing down the stairs to the packed arena. The massive stage looming over us as the big clock counted down the seconds to the performance starting, 30, 29, 28 , 27 ……scrrreeeeeeeeeaaaaam! Hands in the air, jumping up and down, feeling so alive and invincible.

The rain was torrential; it rolled down our faces, clamped our once styled hair to our heads and soaked through the ponchos until our clothes were glued to our backs. We didn’t care, not one little bit, it felt gloriously liberating. All these women, mascara stained cheeks, looking like drowned rats yet deliriously happy, jumping about like besotted teenagers, screaming “I love you Gary!” and throwing their arms around each other , one big strong sisterhood. All girls together.

I could write a review of the performance, of the amazing stage show, the dancers, the way that the ever arrogant Robbie Williams whipped the crowd into a frenzy, the costumes, the new songs and the old classics but the performance was only part of the experience for me and I’m sure all of the other women there would agree. There was something magic in the air that night, you could almost have reached out and touched the excitement, the positivity, the sense of freedom.

Take That have still got "it", the difference is that whilst I love their music I no longer dream of marrying them or have their babies like I did when I was 12. The thrill of the gig at Hampden stems from tapping into that feeling of being a teenager, of first love, of the friendships you make that survive the test of time and of being free. It’s now two days since the gig and I still have the butterflies in my tummy, the songs are on repeat in my head and the grin is still spread across my face.

Caroline and I have been friends for a long, long time and I’m so glad we shared that experience, when we are old grannies with perms and matching court shoes we’ll have a rare old time reminiscing.

It’s definitely true that as a woman in my 30’s I’m having a much better time than I did as a teenager but if I could capture that feeling, that anticipation for life, for love, that belief that maybe, just maybe all the words in the songs would come true, then I would. I’d put it in a bottle and pour myself a big glass of anticipation every morning and bounce my way through life head first.