Twilight hitches – good as it gets
Winning teams tying the knot in hot new trend
THIS week Pattie Boyd, former wife of George Harrison and Eric Clapton, married for the third time at the Kensington and Chelsea register office. So far so rock ‘n’ roll. But Boyd, now 71, has been living with her long-term partner Rod Weston, 62, for the best part of 25 years.
“It’s almost our silver anniversary so we thought we had better get on with it,” said Weston.
Which didn’t answer the question. Why? What’s the point of getting married after all this time?
What’s more, they’re not the only ones. Late late marriage, to the person with whom you have already spent the best years of your life, is shaping up to be this spring’s hottest trend.
Alan Rickman recently married his partner of 50 years; Jonathan Pryce has just tied the knot with Kate Fahy after 43 years; and only a few days ago Bob Geldof married his girlfriend of 19 years, Jeanne Marine. Weird, no?
Why this sudden crazy rush to call each other man and wife when they’ve already proved they’re a winning team?
Cynics might suspect it’s to do with avoiding inheritance tax. That’s almost certainly part of the reason, but it doesn’t explain why Pattie and Rod dressed up in their best bib and tucker and posed on the steps of the register office like joyful newlyweds (which is what they are) or why Bob Geldof gathered all his children around them for their ceremony in the south of France.
These were weddings like all weddings – a declaration of love and commitment, the rubber stamping of a partnership you hope will sustain you until death.
The big difference, of course, is that for these couples death is no longer a ludicrously remote possibility. I’m guessing this is why they felt compelled to tie the knot at this late stage of the game: with hindsight, and their twilight years ahead of them, they have come to appreciate this is as good as it gets.
I say they, I mean, of course, the men. What we are witnessing here is a classic case of late onset gratitude, with a small side dish of guilt. (Men and women can both experience this emotion but it’s more prevalent in men for reasons I need hardly spell out).
In your sixties (fifties if you’re a civilian) all the what ifs melt away, and any niggling suspicion that you could have had the life of the Beckhams if only you had picked someone more organised is a distant memory.
You have finally grown up and feel lucky, blessed (if you could bear to use that word) to have what you have, as opposed to mildly aggrieved that you are not able to have it all.
Your midlife crisis is past. Your health scare has shaken you up and you want to make amends.
Behind every late marriage is a man who has woken up one day and thought: Ah. I Definitely Owe Her. And I’m not sure a handbag is going to do the job this time.
The challenge then is how to show your appreciation, after several decades of wifely service. And, unfashionable though it may be to admit it, there is no way of saying “thank you, I love you” as effectively as a marriage proposal.
Can’t beat it, whether you are a believer in the institution or not. And if the recipient is not in the first flush of youth, then it is doubly effective. (I can vouch for this as someone who got married lateish – in my forties – it is nice to be asked at a point in your life when you are officially no longer viable marriage material).
Not that I’m suggesting every unmarried woman in a long term relationship is secretly praying her partner will pop the question – I know at least three who would rather stick pins in their eyes than call themselves a wife – but there is something especially romantic about an older man choosing to publicly celebrate his love of an older woman.
That’s another advantage to getting hitched late in the day: you get to feel that you are embarking on something slightly superior to a regular marriage. Pledging your troth when bits are falling off you is in many ways braver then getting hitched in your 20s or 30s.
Anyone can say “I do” in their lusty Poldark prime, whereas these people are saying, “I’m up for the Stairmaster years.
“I’d rather be wheeling you around with an oxygen tank than clubbing in Ibiza with a younger version of you.”
Marrying at a time of life when the bedroom has become the place where you go to put in your earplugs, pop a Rennie and slip on your anti-snore equipment, that’s proper grown up, selfless love.
Of course, it could simply be that 64ish (as Paul McCartney anticipated) is the moment at which a man starts to feel vulnerable and realises his priority is being needed and fed, and dandling grandchildren on his knee.
Unless you’re Mick Jagger, your sixties is the decade your stamina isn’t what it was, and you certainly can’t attract the opposite sex the way you like to think you used to.
Marriage doesn’t guarantee there will be someone there for better or worse but you might as well attempt to lock in your potential carer when you’ve got this far.
You can see why it’s catching on.