Romance now I’m 80? Never say never!
Her beloved husband Desmond teased her that she had the sexual allure of a log, but as she celebrates a milestone birthday after 20 years of widowhood, the incorrigible Esther Rantzen says...
Dame esther Rantzen remembers — and how would you forget? — that she celebrated her 50th birthday by running round the garden stark naked.
‘actually, not stark naked,’ she clarifies. ‘I was wearing a hat, quite a big chiffon hat. I’d leapt out of bed, seen the hat on a chair, put it on and ran downstairs and into the garden. I remember the dewy grass and the roses.’
Was her husband, the documentary maker Desmond Wilcox, thrilled? ‘Ha. Desi was horrified. He was always a bit more prim than I was about what I was wearing. He used to follow me around with a safety pin, trying to pin my cleavage together. But our neighbours’ children started giggling, and then he started laughing, too.’
Dame esther had another big birthday on monday — her 80th — which warranted something of a re-run. There was a dressing gown involved this time.
Normally, there would be quite the fandango for such a milestone. esther — grande dame of the TV industry, ferocious campaigner, now a grandmother of five — does love a party (and does know everyone).
When her beloved Desmond, who died in 2000, turned 60, he insisted he didn’t want any fuss, ‘because he thought turning 60 would mean everyone would think he was an old man’. She organised a surprise party nonetheless, and had Dame Cleo Laine sing.
at her own 60th, they had 250 guests at their cottage in the New Forest, and then another bash at their London home.
This year, there were three parties planned — but then came lockdown, ‘and everything was cancelled’.
So she celebrated with just her daughter, miriam, the eldest of her three children, with whom she is isolating, catching up with friends and family on Zoom.
She also spent more time than she had anticipated gazing at her flowers. Really gazing.
‘Isn’t it odd how lockdown has affected us?’ she says, on the phone from the New Forest. ‘I have always loved my garden, but I’ve never had time to sit in it before. This time has made me wonder at how I have spent a lot of my life.’
esther Rantzen has enjoyed perhaps one of the most extraordinary careers of her generation. The show that made her name, That’s Life, ran for an astonishing 21 years, from 1973 to 1994.
It was a phenomenon, managing to blend the hilarious (remember the dog who said ‘sausages’ or the potatoes shaped as genitals?) with fearless journalism. It highlighted issues of equality, raised awareness of organ transplants and changed the law (on the issue of child seat belts).
a segment about child abuse led to the setting up of Childline in 1986. In 2012, she founded Silverline, a service which matches volunteers with elderly people who are feeling lonely. This one was born out of personal experience — after Desmond died, she felt terribly adrift. T oDay, the issue of social isolation is very relevant. ‘a lot of older people are slightly amused that the rest of the world has caught up with what is the stuff of their lives — suddenly finding themselves on their own. Neighbours who seemed not to notice they existed before are offering, for the first time, to do shopping, or sometimes they are just waving.
‘I do hope we will hold onto this. It may just remind us that the things that make life worth living are the people around us.’
Her own lockdown has been a sobering ‘period of reflection’. She may have forged the way for an entire generation of female TV presenters, but at what personal cost?
She was busier than anyone. She missed key moments in her children’s lives because she was always working. miriam, Rebecca and Joshua have been quite blunt about the fact they don’t want her to miss the next generation growing up, too.
‘a year or two ago they actually staged an intervention. They said: “mother, you need to do less.” They had a point. What’s the point of having grandchildren if you don’t spend time with them? and I did tend to tear on, and then come down with something like pneumonia.’
Workaholic tendencies? ‘yes. I think it’s an addiction. Working in TV is a bit like having a great wave come along when you are clinging to your surfboard. It takes you on at fantastic speed, and because you are really achieving things, you cling on. It’s very difficult to stop and say: “Wait a minute, I’d like to pause.”
‘you know this work/life balance people talk about? at the age of 80, I’ve realised they are right. I think if I had my time again, I would push the balance in a different way.’ S o HoW does she feel about hitting 80? She makes it sound like joining an exclusive party, one where Tom Jones is in the kitchen, Cliff Richard is ringing the doorbell and Ringo Starr is on his way (they were all born in the same year).
She certainly doesn’t feel 80. or dress 80. I like to think she’s wearing Dynasty shoulder pads and gold lame (she always said she modelled her dress sense on Dame edna), but it seems she has gone trendy.
‘I’m wearing black trousers with a white stripe down the side and black and white trainers. Leisurewear, isn’t that what they call it? I remember when my grandmother was this age, she dressed like an old lady.’
In her 60s, esther posed for a magazine shoot in a corset and fishnets, which revealed she had endless legs.
‘ah yes, well. I wouldn’t do that again. I belong to a generation of women who were breaking barriers in television. In my early years, I refused to do anything about clothes because I wanted to be treated as a professional, not specifically as a woman.
‘Then someone asked me to do a fashion shoot and I thought: “Dammit, no one is ever going to ask again.” I thought they’d put me in a Chanel suit, but there was just a whisp of chiffon. I thought: “Right, Rantzen, you either walk out now or you go along with it”.’
She was a widow by then. What would Desmond have made of the resulting pictures? ‘He would have disapproved deeply.’ Too sexy? She hoots. ‘He once said I had all the sexual allure of a rotting log.’
and he lived to tell the tale? What on earth were the circumstances? ‘oh, I don’t know what provoked him, but I do see the point. He adored me. His last words were precisely that — “I adore you” — but he used to specialise in very witty insults. I found it funny.’
She doesn’t seem to mind her allure being found lacking. ‘Well, I’ve never seen myself as mata Hari,’ she says. ‘Let’s face it, I never turned heads. In my 20s I minded very much. I was
quite overweight and surrounded by little butterfly girls. But you learn that you have to have something else. You have to be funny, witty, interesting.’
Would she say yes to romance again? Well, she isn’t saying no. ‘I try to say “never say never”, because I find if you do say that, you’re usually proved wrong. But Desi was a hard act to follow.’
She went on Celebrity Blind Date a few years ago, having been convinced that she could break the stigma about older widows dating again. She was paired up with a lawyer from Ireland.
‘He said: “For a lady of your advancing years, you are splendid company.” My head split in half. One half thought: “This is a magic moment in television!” The other thought: “How dare you?”
‘Then he made it worse. I said “I beg your pardon?” and he said: “Didn’t you hear me, dear?”.’
There have been other attempted wooings. One man once chased her round her kitchen, ‘which was flattering’. But no frisson? ‘No’.
Maybe she needs a younger man? She once wrote a piece pointing out Mae West had a harem of young bodybuilders when she was 80. ‘I’m not sure they were intellectual relationships,’ Esther laughs.
‘The thing about Mae West was, she made her own rule book. Whether you’d want your grandmother to be Mae West is another matter, but if she was mine, I’d be rather proud.’
Esther! Your grandchildren would freak if you went down this route, surely? ‘I’m not sure that’s the reason I haven’t,’ she laughs. ‘Beautiful young men are delightful, but I think if I was pursued by a muscly 25-year-old, I would feel self-conscious and nervous.’
The truth is, she is single because no one could ever compare to Desmond. They met at work: he was her boss — her married boss.
‘It was completely wrong,’ she concedes. ‘He was married, with children. I can’t defend it, but it swept us away and it stayed that way. I think we were kindred spirits.’
Desmond’s first wife, Patsy, who had been Esther’s friend, at first refused to divorce him. Things could not have been messier.
Then just after Desmond died, Esther wrote her autobiography, and was not as kind as she could have been about Patsy, who had died in 1999. Desmond’s daughter, Cassandra, exploded, not surprisingly, and there was a public spat.
Now Esther admits she handled it badly. ‘I was very raw. I think I wrote it at the wrong time. I should have put it to one side, left it alone. I didn’t mean to criticise her. I was criticising myself, not her. We had been friends.
‘But it’s pretty pointless for me to say I regret the whole thing. Of course, I regret the pain, but we were together for 32 years.’
She and Desmond had grand retirement plans. ‘Desi had bought a big car and we were going to take off and explore every corner of the UK. I still haven’t done that.’
Desmond had heart issues, so they knew time was limited. Before he died, he told her he wanted always to keep his eye on her, so she planted a copse of trees on a hill overlooking the cottage, and placed a bench there.
‘He’s always with me. I have pictures of him everywhere, and he would have adored our grandchildren.’
Would he have wanted her to find love again? She’s unsure. ‘I think he felt quite possessive of me, but he also loved me very much and if I suddenly fell head over heels for someone . . .’
Possibly not if it was a 25-yearold bodybuilder, though!