As Barry Egan talks to Yvonne Keating about life after Ronan, Pat Fitzpatrick looks at some other women who married boy-band stars
1 AYDA FIELD
We really don’t want to call her Mrs Robbie Williams. We’re too right-on for that. And you can be sure she never uses that name herself. Unless she is trying to get a table at a restaurant. In fairness, you can see how her name could lead to confusing Who’s on first?’-type conversations. “Ayda Field.” “Really — did you sell it?” “No, that’s my name.” “You sold your name!” That’s fun at first and then, after a while, it can get very annoying. Just like Robbie Williams, when you think about it.
2 VOGUE WILLIAMS
Brian McFadden’s wife, who starred in RTE reality-TV show, Fade Street. It was like Made in Chelsea with smaller apartments. Some say the characters didn’t reflect the realities of Irish life. We say Vogue is a young Irish woman who moved to Australia in 2011. That’s hardly science fiction. Poor Vogue got in trouble when she referred to her compatriots in Australia as “smelly Irish”. In fairness, the Irish have a reputation for being smelly down under. Ah, stop.
3 GEORGINA AHERN
Pop quiz. How long do we think we have to wait before they announce a Westlife reunion? Maybe a charity event where Nicky (Georgina’s husband) and Kian donate their fees to people less fortunate than themselves. Like Shane Filan. Do you know what would make it a momentous occasion in Irish history? If Georgina could persuade her dad to come along and say a couple of words. Like mea culpa. Fat chance? Try morbidly obese.
4 YOKO ONO
Some say the Beatles were the original boy band. We say some should get out more often. And maybe get their ears syringed. In fairness, the Beatles were once boys and in a band. But that doesn’t mean you should be lumping them in with the likes of East 17. Unless you think there is some hidden wisdom in “you’re goin’ deep baby, deep, deep, down”. We checked and it turns out that song has nothing to do with philosophical inquiry. Or scuba diving.
5 DAWN BARLOW
Apparently, Gary gave his wife, Dawn, a London black taxi a while back. Imagine her driving around London, watching the meter pile on the pounds. It must have reminded her of living with Gary a few years back. He moved on from last year’s X Factor. He must be glad he will never again have to listen to some chancer murdering one of his songs. Unless he’s standing next to Jason or Howard at a Take That rehearsal.