I caught the last hour of the Take That concert last night and I’m so glad I did because it was amazing. I was happily reminiscing about the loveliness of Mark Owen and A Million Love Songs, when suddenly the boys disappeared off stage and returned in pants and a bit of rope disguised as a top. The most hilarious thing was during Relight My Fire when whilst Robbie, Mark, Howard and Jason wore just boots and a little material to cover their (not so) private parts, Gary was kitted out in a horrid red jacket, black trousers and a roll neck jumper! Was he not boiling hot? Did no-one notice and ask him why he wouldn’t join the others in their almost nakedness? Is he in fact an alien (from a very cold planet) and has to cover up his body so no-one finds out? Very bizarre. The other astonishing part of the show was Mark Owen’s dancing – limbs flying everywhere! These days boybands get away with the occasional choreographed jump, barely in time swaying or worse of all sitting still on stools. I so wish I’d been 5 years older, Take That would have been my favourite band by far.