
Dumped Cuts |
1.Ben Folds 5 -
Song for the Dumped |
2. Willie Nelson
-
Undo the Right |
3. Glen Hansard -
Say it to Me Now |
4. Bloc Party -
This Modern Love
|
5. Kate Nash -
Foundations |
Chosen
by:
SmackThePony, US |
Dumped Cuts |
1.James Blunt -
Goodbye My Lover
|
2. Kelly Clarkson
-
Here I Am |
3. Toni Braxton -
Unbreak My Heart |
4. Randy Vanwarmer -
Just When I Needed You Most
|
5. Will Young -
Leave Right Now |
Chosen
by:
Kati, England |
|

home > aboutus
> press> hit singles, the scotsman,
mandy rhodes (nov 15, 2003)
It’s Friday night in Glasgow’s Kelly Cooper Bar, and
a group of girlfriends are knocking back champagne. They’re a glamorous
bunch. There’s Kelly herself, all highlights and ever-present grin;
Julie Hanson, a stunning blonde with a body toned by years of teaching
aerobics and yoga; Sara Sinclair, statuesque in her spiky heels; and
bubbly Lynn Harris, with her inviting smile and ready laugh. They attract
a lot of attention. Men stare openly, and one is occasionally brave
enough to tough out the guffaws of laughter and make an approach.
There’s something that makes these women stand out from the crowd. They’re
older, more confident and definitely not on the hunt for a man. Nor
are they needy or desperate. These women are born-again singles. Marriage?
Babies? Been there, done that and now squeezing themselves into the
T-shirt. They are celebrating their newfound freedom with a confidence
that can be as intimidating as it is awe-inspiring.
It’s Hallowe’en 1989 and Glasgow’s king and queen of clubland, Colin
Barr and Kelly Cooper, are celebrating their marriage in front of five
hundred revellers at Hamilton’s historic Chatelherault, as 1980s icon
Rick Astley belts out his hit ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’. Kelly wafts
around the tableau of Scotland’s glitterati in a frothy designer concoction
of satin and lace, and confesses that this is the best day of her life...
Fourteen years and two children later, fashion stylist Kelly, like so
many of her friends, finds herself single again. In her world of celebrity
where everyone has just one name - Kirsty, Donovan, Billy, Heidi, Meg
- she has three, Kelly Cooper Barr. Yet Mrs Barr left Mr Barr two years
ago. Sadly, the surname proved more enduring than the marriage.
But Kelly epitomises the new trend of born-again singles. She is smart,
sassy, confident and financially independent. She even has a bar named
after her - which has become a weekend magnet for Glasgow born-again
singletons of a certain age.
"The women I see coming into the bar, especially at the weekend, are
in their late 30s and early 40s," she says. "They are newly single and
they are sexy, glamorous and have a real sparkle in their eyes."
She could be describing herself. But no matter how much she puts on
the glitz, marital break-up is always painful. For two people who once
so publicly pledged their adoration for each other, it’s a humiliating
end to a love affair.
There were 160,000 divorces in the UK last year. We have the highest
divorce rate in Europe, and for people in their 30s and early 40s the
probability of splitting is high - the odds on their marriage surviving
are only 50/50.
"I met Colin when I was 19 and we went out for nine years, on and off,
before we got married," Kelly says. "We were married and had the children
all within 18 months. It was a crazy time work-wise and socially, but
it was fantastic. We were very much in love. Outwardly we may not have
looked like your average couple, but I was very much his woman and he
was my man - and that’s how it was meant to be. My mum and dad are still
together, and I thought Colin and I would be the same.
"I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. I used to wake up and just
think, ‘I love my life, I love my family, I love my beautiful home.’
I would have given anything for it not to crumble, but you have to work
out how much you are willing to compromise yourself to keep everyone
else happy."
But for increasing numbers of women, the end of a marriage is no longer
the end of their lives. For many it is a rebirth. Once the initial slings
and arrows of separation have subsided, these born-again singles settle
in to a new, improved life. They might be older and have the responsibility
of motherhood, but they are starting over with the benefit of hindsight
- and often a comfortable financial settlement. Of course, there will
be a sadness that follows any break-up, and the newly split may harbour
niggling feelings of failure. But much more palpable is the singleton’s
enthusiasm to get out there again and make things happen.
This newly liberated woman has even been encapsulated as a powerful
consumer force - the Sarah (Single and rich and happy). And this is
what sets the born-again single apart from parents of the Enid Blyton
generation, for whom divorce was still a shameful thing that happened
to other people. The born-again isn’t pretending; she really is happy
- and because she has already juggled being a wife, a mother and a career
girl, she is well equipped to survive.
Alasdair Loudon, the head of the family law team at Turcan Connell in
Edinburgh, says times have changed: "It’s been a gradual change but
I think what you see now is a group of women making a decision to separate
because it is the right thing for them rather than staying out of duty
or for the sake of the children or for financial reasons.
"There is a noticeable difference between the women we act for in their
50s and those who separate in their late 30s and early 40s. Women in
their 30s and 40s are often making a conscious decision that married
life with a particular husband is not what they want. They are making
a lifestyle change. This was not an option for women in the past, who
perhaps had never had a career or ever had to support themselves. The
changes tend to reflect the fact that women now continue with careers
following marriage and children and can pick up the reins again after
divorce."
Thea Newcomb, 35, is a successful internet entrepreneur based
in Glasgow who has turned her experience of relationship breakdown into
a business. She launched soyouvebeendumped.com
after being ditched by a series of men, including her husband. Her website
allows people to share their experiences of relationship break-up, and
has the ethos that out of pain comes something positive.
"It’s clear from the stories posted on the website that being single
is starting to carry less stigma," says Newcomb. "There has been an
influx of women in their late 30s and 40s visiting recently, who - once
they have recovered from the initial heartbreak - have found themselves
viewing the break-up as an opportunity to start a new life. We have
heard from women who are travelling the world, one woman lost eight
stone, many take up hobbies, some have landed fantastic jobs, and some
have simply started to know and like themselves better. The vast majority
of them are no longer stuck in this mindset that says, ‘I have to have
a man to complete me, to survive or to be happy’. Many are actually
starting to define themselves by themselves and realise they are a complete
person even without a man."
The Sarah phenomenon among divorced women was highlighted in a recent
survey by consumer analyst DataMonitor. Its research showed that post-marriage,
30-something women are revelling in "mass affluence": they are brimming
with confidence and embracing their new single status.
Andrew Russel, consumer insight analyst with DataMonitor, says the view
of the divorcee as a sad little woman weeping in a corner for what she
has lost no longer applies. "Divorce is seen as a much more positive
thing, with women able to live a full and exciting life without making
too many compromises," he says.
"Divorced women are seen to be making a life for themselves rather than
waiting for a life to happen. A man living on his own might be happy
to sit in with a video and some beers, whereas a woman will tend to
be on the phone arranging to see people."
It’s all a far cry from the 1970s when Jane Davidson, who has presided
over Edinburgh fashion for more than 30 years, split from her husband.
The couple both ran businesses from the Grassmarket in Edinburgh, and
when the marriage ended so did Jane’s relationship with the bank. "The
bank immediately ended our business accounts and automatically offered
my husband facilities but not me. I had to fight to be taken seriously.
It was still considered a shameful thing to be a divorced woman in those
days. People seem to have a much more healthy attitude to it nowadays
and women certainly don’t need to hide away in shame - in fact they
seem to be positively celebrating their new-found freedom."
She says she has witnessed a sea change in her customers’ approach to
spending money in her clothes shop.
"Twenty years ago most of my clients would be women who were spending
their husbands’ money. I would have to change receipts and perhaps put
payment through on different cards so that they could hide how much
money they had actually spent on clothes. Now women, perhaps newly divorced
and much more confident about themselves and their spending, are coming
in. They don’t need to be duplicitous - it’s their money they’re spending
and on clothes that they want to wear."
Davidson believes these women do not see themselves as victims of a
failed marriage, but rather as excited escapees ready to enjoy single
life again.
These born-agains may have experience etched on their faces and make
a lot of jokes about a situation that had their mothers’ generation
turning to drink, Valium or into the arms of another bad marriage, but
they do genuinely seem content.
It can sometimes mean starting their social life from scratch, however.
Dropped by their married circle of friends for fear that divorce is
contagious, or that their husbands may be tempted by what they now perceive
as a "separated vixen", the born-again turns to women friends in the
same situation.
For Cooper that has meant what she affectionately calls the "All Girls
Club", made up of friends that she has known for 20 years. They’ve all
been married, all have children and are all up for a good time, on their
terms. They help and support each other. They have seven children between
them, and recognise the pressures of juggling home and work life. Sometimes
one babysitter is booked and the children have a sleepover while the
mums go out. Post-separation, they are all also self-employed and support
each others’ businesses.
Cooper’s friend, garden designer Lynn Harris, says that while it may
sound like they have returned to their adolescent roots, it would be
wrong to believe that separation has been easy.
"It’s very hard, and when you have children you are constantly worried
about them," she says. "We have agreed that one day we should set up
a drop-in centre called the Home for the Bewildered, because no matter
how we present ourselves in public, we have all had our moments of despair.
None of us came out of our marriages laughing. It’s frightening and
disorientating, but it is also liberating.
"I have a great job, a great family and a great social life. I think
there used to be a real stigma about a group of women of our age going
out on a Friday night, but not any more. We are all very strong women
and I think that when we walk into a bar as a group, we scare men witless."
The breakdown of Harris’s six-year marriage meant a move back to Scotland
with her son and the launch of her garden design business. For Cooper,
Julie Hanson and Sara Sinclair, it has also led to equally dramatic
changes. Cooper enjoys a multi-faceted worklife that includes being
a professional party organiser, a fashion stylist and running her own
bar. Hanson owns a yoga school, and Sinclair has set up her own catering
company.
Sinclair was 24 in 1985 when she got married, having known her husband
since she was 15. "I was a real product of the 1980s - working in London,
with big hair, a big job and conforming to that whole sloaney Lady Di
thing," she says. "We were right in the thick of the married, dinner-party
set, and when I look back I think I must have been sleepwalking most
of the time, because I actually have very few memories of 17 years of
marriage. It wasn’t until I had my first baby, in 1990, and then my
second one three years later, that I actually stopped and had time to
do a bit of navel-gazing. I then realised that there were serious problems
in my marriage. It’s amazing what you can just live with if you don’t
think too much about it at the time - fundamental things that you just
ignore."
When Sinclair ended her marriage, shortly after her 40th birthday, she
was immediately dropped by most of her social circle. Her calendar used
to be full six months in advance but suddenly it was empty. The experience
has given her the strength to stand on her own two feet, and she presents
a formidable force.
"Women in relationships do tend to appease their men and defer to them.
It’s all about conditioning. We are of a generation born of mothers
who might appear right-on and liberated, but most of them still harbour
a Doris Day mentality that you should marry a rich man who will look
after you. I think my mother still believes that this is a viable option
for me. She’s right on one level - it would be like falling into a lovely,
comforting, soft, feather bed. But I have proved that I don’t need a
man to look after me.
"I can change a lightbulb and rewire a plug, and the day I changed a
tyre on my four-wheel drive was better than sex."
Hanson, who is 47 and has two children from her seven-year marriage,
cannot envisage ever getting married again. Although she is now in a
relationship, she is at the forefront of what DataMonitor identified
as the "living together apart" generation - she and her partner maintain
their individual homes but see themselves as a committed couple.
"I like being Julie Hanson," she says. "I’ve always been happy and confident
about myself and did feel uncomfortable in the whole marriage thing.
I certainly don’t need a man by my side to feel complete. There is the
danger of losing sight of who you are within a relationship and I never
want that to happen again. I won’t get married again but I still think
it’s something everyone should try once. I would advocate a sort of
provisional wedding licence, like the kind of thing a learner driver
gets, which, if you complete it successfully, you can then have the
big ceremony."
In America people tend to get married and divorced younger and then
get married again in their late 40s and 50s when they are looking for
companionship as they get older. This trend is now so common that these
brief first-time relationships have been dubbed "practice marriages".
Edinburgh businesswoman Jo Gainsburgh, 43, believes this increasing
number of single, older women is all part of an on-going social shift.
She married a man she had known since she was 16, had two children and
separated seven years ago.
"It is young women who are really embracing the idyll of being their
own person and having independence in relationships that women of my
age did not generally take on board," she says. "I don’t think I view
the future as lonely and depressing. It’s much more exciting than that.
I dream of becoming a wonderfully eccentric, single lady who can do
as she pleases. I belong to a book club that we dub the Posh Totties
Drinking Club and it would be great if that just evolved into some fantastic
old birds’ club. We would act disgracefully, march into the post office
en masse, thump our walking sticks on the counter and demand our pensions
before going off to some wine bar."
Professor Richard Scase, of Kent University, says this view is becoming
increasingly common as women realise they have other life options than
simply getting married and having children. In his book, Britain 2010,
which predicts the shape of UK households in the near future, he says
that at least 40 per cent will be headed by a single person and it will
be women who thrive. "Women who are post-relationship and on their own
are fitter, healthier and wealthier than men in a similar situation,"
he says. "The future is much more grim for men.
"Women are having the time of their lives," he adds. "They have been
unshackled and they are behaving outrageously and having a fantastic
time."
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