Here's one they made up earlierSpeculation about her sexual orientation has endured for 30 years. But now, at 71, the former Blue Peter presenter Valerie Singleton has spoken candidly about the men in her life - and finally scotched the 'ludicrous' rumour that she is gay. Julie Bindel bids farewell to a well-loved lesbian icon
Julie Bindel The Guardian, Tuesday June 24, 2008
With Valerie Singleton's revelation this weekend that she is the "opposite of gay", another lesbian icon bites the dust. I will no longer sigh with longing when seeking out the sticky-back plastic, or throwing an empty washing-up bottle away. Singleton has disappeared as an icon as swiftly as she arrived.
How did the rumours begin about Singleton being one of us? There was a time when you only had to be seen with a suspected lesbian to be thought of as one yourself. In 1978, Singleton interviewed Joan Armatrading in Manchester for BBC1's current affairs programme Tonight In Town. Word was put around that after the interview, the two ended up in bed together, and swiftly embarked on a three-year love affair. Both have always denied it. In 1993 Singleton told a national newspaper that, "If you accuse me of something that I'm not, I get terribly upset - and I get terribly upset with this stupid, daft rumour."
In the same year, when describing the sort of man she finds attractive, Singleton told a journalist: "I tend to go for the pirate type." I suppose she meant swarthy and masculine. Many of us took such comments by Singleton made over the years with a pinch of salt. I assumed that once a public figure has denied being gay, it is too humiliating to admit to having lied. It now seems it was wishful thinking on my part.
Writing in the Mail on Sunday, Singleton rubbished the "ludicrous" rumour, which has lingered for three decades, and revealed a list of men she has had affairs with - although she said her "big personal regret is not having sustained a deep relationship". "I seem to have crammed most of my men into the early part of my life, and then there were great deserts of nobody at all except flings." On her last day at Rada, she enjoyed a "wonderfully smoochy night" with fellow student Albert Finney. They did not have sex but "thrashed about on a bed for several hours". She had a brief fling with Peter Purves while they were both presenting Blue Peter and he was "between marriages". "We were on an assignment out of London ... and after a day's filming we had a few glasses of wine at our hotel, and one thing led to another. It was one of those impulsive enjoyable experiences but more a friendship thing than anything else."
Her last boyfriend was a builder 24 years her junior. The relationship lasted four years. "I'm not sure I've ever allowed myself to fall properly in love," she concluded. "I tended to avoid guys who made my heart flutter, although a couple gave me what I call a BSE - Big Sexual Experience."
She didn't do quite the same for me, but I did grow up with Singleton. She joined Blue Peter in 1962, the year I was born, and I was a massive fan of both the programme and Singleton throughout my formative years. When I was already a seasoned lesbian, in my late teens, the rumours began circulating that Singleton was also one, and, to add icing on the cake, had slept with Armatrading. We all thought Joan was a lezzer. The lesbian world is a small one, and whether it was true or not, everyone knew someone who had a cousin somewhere like Manchester whose current girlfriend had snogged Armatrading in a gay club.
In my view, Singleton was a convincing lesbian while the story lasted. In the 1970s and 1980s, the height of Singleton's popularity, there were barely any out gay men and women. It was always that bit easier for male TV stars and celebrities, as they could play the camp role and become objects of affection. But if women came out, it would mean instant death in terms of their careers. But there were signs, to many of us, that Singleton was "in our club". In those days we would make a game out of who we believed might "shop around the corner", and relied on the most cryptic, and often unreliable, of clues.
One, Singleton did not do that heterosexual thing with her hair. Her gorgeous, dark, luscious mane just sat there, being natural. If she wore makeup, it was not obvious. In the 1970s, female TV presenters usually dressed in flowers and frills, with swirly skirts and lace cuffs, but not Singleton. Although not exactly appearing on air in dungarees and bovver boots, she was, well, almost androgynous.
Two, she appeared to have no boyfriend. While that does not make one a lesbian, glam women off the telly always had a man sniffing around and, in those days, more often than not married them and had kids pretty sharpish. Singleton had cats not kids, another massive indicator as far as we were concerned. And, as we all know, she did her own DIY, if you count making things out of toilet rolls. As a youngster who regularly developed crushes on my friends' mums, Singleton's "aunty" status, coupled with her sexy, cheeky pout, was too lovely to resist.
Much of what we thought we "knew" about Singleton was guess work, but in the 70s and 80s we could not do as we do today, and rely on magazines such as Heat and OK to confirm or deny our suspicions. Then, we relied on rumours from "the community". It was also before lesbianism became fashionable, or the likes of "bi-try" women such as Madonna and Britney Spears dipped their toes into the shady and mysterious world of lezzerism. But even in the world of limited media snooping, Singleton was an enigma. We knew very little about her, which, to me, was further evidence that she batted for the other side.
Singleton was loved by some lezzers, but resented by others. Those of us who were out paid the price, so resented those protected by their privileged lifestyle who chose to stay in the closet. Had Singleton announced that she was a lesbian, she would never have had to do it again. Those not in the public eye have to do so every time they meet someone new.
Why, though, did it matter to have a lesbian in the media to look up to? For me it was not so much that they could offer me a blueprint of how one should look and behave, otherwise I would have been walking around looking and acting like Beryl Reid's character in The Killing of Sister George, the first lesbian I ever saw on telly. It was more knowing that some other women thought it was actually cool to be a lesbian, and enjoyed being it. I wanted to be able to say to my mother: "Look mum, Valerie Singleton is the same as me, and look how well she has done." A lesbian friend of my generation tells me that as a teenager she used to decide who was a lesbian, based on the qualities she admired, and also on any evidence that these women were a bit different from the norm. She mentions the irrefutably heterosexual Joanna Lumley as one "lesbian icon", based on the fact that a) Lumley had a Purdey haircut, which broke the orthodoxy of the awful curling-tonged style so popular among young women at the time and b) used to kickbox men on the telly.
I understand her rationale. As a 15-year-old, desperate for a sign that I was not the only gay in the village, I claimed Julie Covington, one of the actors in the 1970s series Rock Follies about a female rock group, as a lesbian, because she had short hair, wore one earring, and drank like a man.
Having said this, I have never really understood why so many lesbians and gay men appear desperate to claim certain celebs as "our own". When droves of lesbians began, in sheep fashion, to fancy Sigourney Weaver after the release of Alien, I was confused. Wearing a vest that looked like it had once been white but had got caught up in the wash with a pair of workman's overalls, and not bothering to have a regular shampoo and set in between trying to save humanity, seemed to be the only lezzer indicators. Yet still the rumours - which remain totally unsubstanttied - started around lesbian dinner parties.
I have never understood why Armatrading is, to many, a lesbian icon. She doesn't sing about being in love with women, she sings about not having a boyfriend, or having her heart broken by one. I prefer the butch Geordie character Norma in the TV drama series Shameless, who ran off with Frank's wife.
Many people confuse the notion of a lesbian icon with a women in the public eye who some women fancy. For me, the only lesbian icon worth mentioning is Martina Navratilova. Why? Because she is secure in her appearance, does not dress for men, or seek to become acceptable to heterosexuals. She is also well out of the closet and has had fairly public, passionate relationships with other lesbian icons, such as the writer Rita Mae Brown.
So who should we want in our club? How about some real lesbians? If they don't want to be one of us, or would rather keep it a secret, I don't want them in my gang. I can't be bothered with the likes of Anna Friel's character Beth in 1980s Brookside. She was playing a lesbian, then running home to normality. I want to be in a club with those who neither deny their sexuality, nor try to dress it up as something sexually stimulating for the boys. Think the ultra-professional sports presenter, Clare Balding, or other women proud to be a lesbian, such as crime writer Val McDermid, performer Amy Lame, EastEnders veteran Pam St Clement, comedian Sue Perkins, and politician Angela Eagle. As for Singleton, I wish her well, but if she does not want to be a part of this glorious sisterhood of lezzerism, we will begrudgingly let her go.
