Debbieanne O’Donovan

 

It was 1995 in the Nottingham Royal Concert Hall, 5th row of the stalls. After hearing such melodic mantras as ‘Let’s Get Ready To Rhumble’, ‘Our Radio Rocks’ and ‘If I Give You My Number’, I fell hook, line and sinker into obsessive oblivion with PJ & Duncan (or as we now know them, Ant & Dec).

And so it began. The bedroom; every millimetre of wall, ceiling and doors covered in posters bearing their faces. Then there were the teen-mags I subsequently subscribed to in order never to miss a column inch mentioning the boys. Budweiser bottles and packets of Cadbury’s Chocolate Buttons became ornaments on the shelves as I learnt these were the lads’ favourite treats. I quickly adopted an interest in Newcastle United, bought the kit, scarf and began reading the sports press and watching the games (my knowledge of NUFC 1995-1998 remains pretty hot!).

In December 1996, I took things to the next level. I travelled to Newcastle and spent the day in what seemed like sub-zero temperatures sat on a wall in the Cruddas Park estate opposite Dec’s Mum and Dad’s house where I knew he’d be for Christmas. In the late afternoon he came and spent more than an hour on the street with myself and a small group of other stalkers-in-the-making who had also made the pilgrimage that day. He signed autographs, posed for photos and chatted for more than an hour. Nice chap. 

This only fuelled the already well-underway fanatical fire which burnt on for several years. Tours, hotels, the Big Breakfast fence, you name it and we (a now unified group of equally psychologically unstable young girls) probably followed them there.

After making up part of the studio audience for the pilot and some early episodes of SMTV/CD:UK, I hung up my stalking shoes and left them to enjoy what would be a far more successful career in TV presenting.

I had experienced a satisfying feel for the media from my travels with the gang and as a result went off to build my own career in the music business. I’d like to think my tastes in music have slightly matured but I can unashamedly admit to still being a sucker for a bit of fun pop!

CONFESS THE TORRID PASSIONS WHICH FLIPPED YOUR WIG ABOUT MUSIC.

IT'S ALRIGHT, YOU'RE IN GOOD COMPANY.

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