We’re peas in a pod
Gwen Jones and her identical twin sister, Maureen Newton, have led parallel lives for 90 years… and are still as close as ever
Running into the playground together on our first day at school, my twin sister, Maureen, and I couldn’t wait to cause mischief. With our wavy brown hair and blue eyes, we were identical, and our mum, Rosie, had pinned our initials on to our matching outfits so that the teachers could tell us apart.
Maureen was the older twin, born 15 minutes before me, but most people found it impossible to distinguish us. Throughout our lives, we’ve loved playing up to that.
When we were born, it was a big surprise for Mum and our dad, Albert. They had no idea they were having twins before I popped out!
Growing up, we lived with our parents in a three-bed terrace in Newport, South Wales, along with our siblings, Billy, George, Lily and little brother David – all now sadly passed. At school, we were in the same class, and we were inseparable.
Our favourite games were top-and-whip, skipping, hopscotch and marbles. We particularly enjoyed pretending to be each other – even our dad got confused. If I’d been naughty and Dad was telling me off, he would often discover it was Maureen he was scolding, not me. We thought it was hilarious!
In 1943, when we were 16, we got jobs in the same factory in Newport, making car brakes. There, too, people found it impossible to tell us apart – even Mel, the man who became my husband.
I met Mel, who worked as a machine operator at the factory, when I was 22. He would always wait for me at work in the mornings with a bag of toffees, but many times he gave them to Maureen instead!
Once, when we were 19, Maureen asked me to go on a date with a man at our local dance hall, in her place. She’d had a better offer from Johnny, the man she ended up marrying. The poor chap I met wasn’t too impressed when Maureen and Johnny ended up at the dance hall as well! He must have felt like a bit of a fool.
All our lives, Maureen and I have loved to dress in matching outfits. In our 20s, we knew a dressmaker who’d whip up replicas of what the glamorous film stars of the period, such as Rita Hayworth and Ava Gardner, were wearing in the movie magazines. We’d go out, all dressed up in our matching outfits, feeling like we were
film stars ourselves.
In our spare time, we adored dancing, and the jive and the jitterbug were two of our favourites. As twins, dressed exactly alike, we always got a lot of attention!
We were both lucky to fall in love with amazing men – Maureen with Johnny, and me with Mel.
In 1950, we were busy planning a joint wedding, set for 2 September. Mum and I went shopping for wedding dresses. ‘That’s the one!’ I said, pointing to a gorgeous gown in a shop window. It cost £3.50 (three pounds and 10 shillings), which was a huge amount of money back then.
Maureen loved the dress, too, so we ordered identical dresses and red rose bouquets. Our husbands-to-be even got matching suits for our big day. Our dad proudly walked the pair of us down the aisle, a daughter on each arm.
We only had one lot of vows, so we all said ‘I do’ at the same time, and 100 guests tucked in to a homemade ham salad and a four-tier wedding cake at our joint reception. It was a wonderful day and, after the wedding, the four of us newlyweds went on honeymoon to Blackpool.
Even when we were married, Maureen and I still only lived a few miles apart and saw each other most days. Maureen had two boys – John, now 65, and Paul, now 63. It wasn’t until 1960 that I gave birth to my daughter, Linda, now 57. I’d been in and out of hospital with colitis and wondered if I’d ever be a mum.
Our holidays were always a family affair. ‘ Where do you fancy going?’ I’d say to Maureen every year. You might think it would annoy my Mel, but he and Maureen’s husband got on really well, and our children were more like siblings than cousins.
As we got older, I couldn’t imagine our parallel lives ever ending. But Maureen’s husband died when he was 65, just after our 40th wedding anniversaries. We’d always been a foursome, and it was so hard when he wasn’t around any more.
Last year, my Mel passed away, aged 90, leaving me devastated. But, thankfully, I still had Maureen, and we’re as close as ever.
On 30 January 2017, we celebrated our 90th birthday together. In line with tradition, we wore matching outfits – black skirts and grey jumpers – and had a good giggle when our younger great-grandchildren got us mixed up!
It was so wonderful to see our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren all together, and Linda made us the most wonderful birthday cake.
Now, we only live seven miles apart and, although we can’t get out as much as we used to and we’re both a bit deaf, we still talk every day.
We love nothing more than reminiscing about the wonderful lives we’ve had. We’re 91 now, and we can honestly say we have never fallen out once. I can’t imagine our lives without each other; we really are two halves of the same whole.