RUTH Mosalski
Ruth is a Yorkshire-born journalist who is proud to have made Wales her home
SURROUNDED by friends, we wailed to Grease, Mary Poppins and the Pet Shop Boys. We reminisced about the 1990s classics we used to listen to on our “Now” CDs. We gawped at her green sequin dress, wondering if we too could ever pull it off.
Beer was drunk from plastic cups.
This week I went to my first post-Covid gig and, I don’t mind telling you, it was utterly fabulous. A few hundred people in the Tramshed in Cardiff watching Sophie Ellis-Bextor with her Kitchen Disco.
Things have changed, of course they have. Never before have I seen masks at a gig, but some still opted to wear them. I still had to think twice about whether I needed to pack a mask and the signs about the venue being totally cashless were flashbacks to our pandemic lives.
Not only has the world changed, we have too. Time has moved on and, in our group of friends, many of us are now mums, so the reality of even getting out has changed, but being out on a school night felt frankly madness. I had to think what I had that was appropriate to wear, I knew I needed a coat, but how would I hold it in the venue? Do you still need to wear heels if you’re going out out or will trainers do?
As our gang got together, the first mutterings started about what time she’d actually start and our hopes it wasn’t an 11pm kick-off – it was a
Monday night after all, and we’re all busy women with children with various complaints, meaning eight hours of shuteye isn’t guaranteed. The old us wouldn’t have cared and all that would have changed is how many bottles of Prosecco we bought. New us most certainly did and we were worried we’d still be out at gone midnight. There weren’t complicated taxi or train plans, people just drove to make it easier.
As we sat in the pub beforehand, ploughing through plates of food and glasses of wine, more than one of us said we would be pretty content not to move at all and just stay there catching up.
But as soon as we were inside, it felt glorious – and, let’s face it, you don’t always say that about a sweaty gig venue.
In days gone by, I loved a gig. My best friend and I would travel miles to see someone we’d half heard of, then following them wherever we could to see them live. I went to festivals across Europe. Now, that would be a major undertaking.
But this wasn’t just me feeling a bit like early-20s me, it was beyond liberating to stand with friends, laugh, reminisce and sing – and when you remembered that, it felt even more special.
As we sat in the pub, we started talking about why we’d all said yes to going. With no offence to Sophie, in normal days I’d never have agreed to pay £41 to see her. But we realised there was one simple reason – the pandemic.
The friend who initially suggested it did so in a WhatsApp group and the first response was: “I’m saying yes to everything after lockdown”. And one by one, we all said yes.
It was good, clean fun. The crowd was lovely. And Ellis-Bextor, was, you could tell, just delighted to be there. The whole concept started in lockdown when she and her guitarist husband couldn’t perform publicly, now they’ve delivered on their promise to take the show on the road and if you get chance I cannot recommend it enough. But it wasn’t just that she was enjoying it, it’s that we were.
The anniversary of lockdown is days away. This time two years ago, I’d already been confined to my house like a much rounder, heavily pregnant Miss Havisham.
I keep wondering when the reality of what we’ve been through will hit us all. Some are already dealing with the grief and pain and confusion, and for some I think it may be yet to arrive.
What happened the other night, in a room filled with sequins, pop music and love, was part of my healing process. The selfie we cwtched in for is a picture of a group of women who all have their own pandemic stories to tell, but brought together on this chilly night.
We’ve survived. To those who didn’t, we owe it to them to live our lives and enjoy them and, if that means channelling my inner Rizzo on a Monday night, then so be it.
I just need to make sure I say “yes”, rather than “no”, a little more often.