Time might test longevity, but when it comes to friendships, distance challenges their depth. And if you're lucky enough to have relationships that survive both, then they're worth singing about.
It's something I considered this year as my best friend Louise's birthday rolled around. Maybe it was the '90s nostalgia in the air – a mix tape being the ultimate sign of care – but I had the idea to share a gift in the form of a Spotify playlist.
That being said, my friend and I have never been particularly big gift-givers to one another. I've known my best friend practically since the day she was born, just a few months after me. Growing up, our mums always did the gift-giving (and shopped together, buying us the same Christmas presents) until we were old enough to exchange those presents for presence at parties and evenings out.
One of the first songs to make the list was Seniorita by Justin Timberlake. We were obsessed with Justified as 13-year-olds, and I have a vivid memory of spotting Louise across a bar when it played on my 26th birthday, so we could sing it together.
Since we were young, we've always bonded over music. We fell in love with Grease after renting it from the local library. We copied Michael Jackson dance videos and belted Westlife ballads. We never went to the same school, but we always went to each other's discos. On weekends, we made up revenge songs about our mickey-taking older siblings.
While Louise has grown up to be much cooler than I in several ways, my taste in music has stayed much the same. But no child of the '90s can deny the enduring love of Wannabe, no matter how “cool” their playlists go on to be. It's the ultimate friendship anthem and has helped to raise a generation of women sporting Girl Power.
But Wannabe is a bit of an outlier; there are really not as many mainstream songs purely about friendship as one might think. After the obvious ones were added – thank you Queen, Bruno Mars and Randy Newman – what next? And where were all the female anthems?
Well, they are in sisterhood. When women have such deep and supportive friendships, it comes from Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves by Eurythmics and Aretha Franklin and Sister Sledge's We Are Family. Tunes of empowerment. There is power in knowing you have a friend in the world who will always lift you up, put your happiness alongside theirs and always sing your praises in rooms without you.
That's not to say 36 years of friendship have been smooth sailing. We bickered, we've fallen out, we've made up again. If a friendship is going to make it throughout a lifetime, of course, there will be growing pains. You learn when to give each other grace. And to never share a hotel room.
Although living in different countries, with life feeling awfully grown-up all of a sudden, those are rare issues nowadays. Cue Fleetwood Mac's Landslide.
Friendship as adults becomes less about the ritual Friday nights and more about going through life together, no matter what celebration or challenge comes next.
Daily phone calls become monthly catch-ups. Life is busy – something that Louise and I have made a promise to never hold against one another.
While unread messages and voice notes – especially when you live away from so many loved ones – can feel like a burden, we've made a pact never to apologise for replying late. There is no expectation of constant communication, and we have a secret emoji code that means: this is urgent, read and reply now.
Knowing that we can't always be there for each other on hard days, I wanted the last songs on the playlist – from Abba's Chiquita to Alanis Morissette's Hand in My Pocket – to sum up all I would want to say, or want my best friend to feel, on those moments when it all feels like too much.
When I finally sent it over, Louise told me she didn't have a Spotify account. Naturally, I added her to my family plan. The next day, she sent me a video note singing Ain't No Mountain High Enough at home with her daughter, as I headed out listening to Teenage Dirtbag.
