At 28, Geri Halliwell Had A Simple Rule About Relationships

Geri Halliwell-Horner, aka Ginger Spice, was the first of the Spice Girls to leave the party. She split from the best-selling girl group of all time in 1998, just two years before turning 28.

“If you go to a fairground when you’re 12, you're no longer [small enough for] the teacup ride, and you might not be tall enough for the big wheel. You’re sort of in between,” she tells Bustle over Zoom from the dining room of her London home. “I think 28 is also an in-between year. You’re not the ingenue anymore. You’re going into no man’s land where the pressure starts.”

Halliwell-Horner’s departure was controversial, as she left in the middle of a world tour, resulting in her bandmates recording a farewell ballad, “Goodbye,” and completing the U.S. leg without her. But she was set on making her mark as a soloist and writer — which she did, releasing her debut album, Schizophonic, and memoir, If Only, in late 1999. Schizophonic spawned three U.K. No. 1 hits, and If Only was an instant bestseller.

Twenty-five years later, Halliwell-Horner, now 52, has pressed pause on her solo music career but expanded her literary footprint to children’s and young adult fiction. Her latest novel, Rosie Frost: Ice and Fire, is the second installment in an ongoing fantasy series, which follows the titular orphan on her adventures at a prestigious school for extraordinary teens. “For me, [writing is] all about connection, and the character says the words that you cannot find yourself,” she says.

Her writing career has also taught her a lesson she wishes she’d learned back in 2000. “That comparison and despair when you watch other people ticking boxes, get the job, the career, the partnership — I wish somebody had said to me, ‘Darling, you have time,’” she says. “What I really connect with now is ‘Be the tortoise, not the hare.’ Slow and steady truly wins the race.”

Below, Halliwell-Horner reflects on her life at 28, twinning with J. Lo, and the relationship rule she swore by.

Take me back to when you were 28. What were you doing at the time?

I just had the greatest millennium party ever. I used to live in this big monastery. Because it was the millennium, I felt like this was an important year, and I let everyone bring not a plus one, but plus two. The next day, I found people behind sofas. It was a wild, fun, electric time.

What did your typical Friday night look like?

I was starting to get bored of clubs. By the time I got to my late 20s, I [felt] not quite ready to settle down but equally unsure of where I belonged. So, I had DVDs and a big bag of Minstrel chocolates. I was binge-watching The Sopranos. I just thought it was brilliant — all the acting was really good. I liked the wife.

Were you still in contact with the Spice Girls at this time?

I’ve always been. They're like old school friends. You go in different directions, but always [come back].

Who was part of your support system then?

George Michael. He was at that party. We were like Will and Grace.

Did you guys live together at one point?

Yes. It was lovely just having [his] support. I was very grateful.

How did you approach love and relationships then?

I had a rule. I felt that if I was in love, it was a creative killer. So I deprived myself throughout my 20s of being really in any [relationships]. If someone came along and it felt right, great, but I wasn’t an active participant. I wasn’t looking because I knew that I wrote better material when I was hurting or hungry.

What is your favorite fashion memory from your late 20s?

I was going to give an award out in France, and I was thinking, “What am I going to wear?” In Milan, there was a Versace shop, and the light was beaming down on this beautiful green, leafy dress. I rang them and said, “Oh, would you mind lending it to me?” So, I wore this Versace dress and taped it in certain places; it is very provocative.

Then a goddess wore it afterwards: J. Lo. I was like, “Do you know what, Jennifer? Love from Geraldine.” She’s a Leo like me. So I was like, “Slay. We’re twinning.”

At 28, you released “It’s Raining Men,” your fourth consecutive No. 1 solo hit. How did it feel to reach the top of the charts?

It’s a good reminder to myself actually. I was working on my second album, then out of the blue, somebody said, “Do you want to do a cover version of this song?” I could feel my pride going, “No, I’m not doing a cover. I write my own material.” Then a dear friend reminded me, “Geri, you are from Watford,” which is just an overspill of Greater London. He goes, “Come on, give it a go.”

Suddenly I was thinking, “OK, what am I going to do for a video?” Because I love movies so much, I was like, “We could do Flashdance and Fame and smash it together.” I was so proud of it. It was No. 1 for two weeks. I was like, “Yay!”

Do you think there’s been enough material since your first autobiography for another memoir?

Probably, yeah. It’s going to end up like War and Peace. I don’t know where it ends. I’m in a whole new chapter again of my life. ... Of course, it’s always lovely to share a story, but I also feel it has to be relevant and not indulgent.

What would you tell your 28-year-old self today?

To value the integrity of your inner voice. No matter what is going on outside, all the “blah, blah, blah” of other people and what they’re saying, you have all the answers inside of you. And I did sometimes lean into that and trust it, but it would be sometimes yes, sometimes no. We can fall off the beam so easily. But you have all the answers.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.