Why DO We Love a Chancer?
Or: What do Nadine Coyle, Bertie Ahern and Anna Delvey have in common?
Do you remember where you were when you saw Nadine Coyle lying to the nation on the Irish talent-seeking TV show, Popstars? I mean, chances are, you were sitting on your couch, watching terrestrial TV – ads an’ all – with the rest of your family, as we used to do in ye olden days.
Coyle, then 16 and two years below the age limit required for entry into the talent show (which would go on to see Irish group Six release, er, one song? Perhaps more, but the fact that I don’t remember says a lot), had initially lied about her year of birth, only to mess up when asked about it again, on camera.
It was, arguably, that very moment that cemented the Irish nation’s love of Nadine Coyle, a love that would last through her rise to fame as one of Girls Aloud, and even survive her very dodgy where’s-she-even-from accent. (It was, arguably, only when she coupled up with Desperate Housewives’ hot gardener Jesse Metcalfe that we fell out of grá with her – that felt like a Hollywood step too far.)
It has always seemed like a very Irish thing to me, this love of a chancer (see also: Bertie Ahern and the shockingly high percentage of people who seem to think he’d… make a good President?! I can’t even), and though it’s human nature to be fascinated by a fraudster, a la Frank Abagnale, whose autobiography detailed his life as a very convincing and successful con artist, and was later made into a film directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Leonardo diCaprio, Catch Me If You Can.
I couldn’t help but wonder (LOL) about this love of chancers when I saw the promotional imagery for Inventing Anna, a coming-to-Netflix series based on the story of Anna Delvey, aka Anna Sorokin, a young woman who succeeded in convincing a large swathe of New York’s social scene that she was, in fact, a wealthy German heiress.
So convincing was Sorokin that she managed to dupe a number of people out of hefty wads of cash, living it up in a five-star hotel and jetting off on luxury vacations, all on someone else’s dime and the promise of an IOU from a European aristocrat.
I wonder how, as a nation, the Irish look upon Sorokin. I’ll admit that my reaction to reading the initial exposé in New York magazine’s The Cut was similar to the reaction I had upon watching Nadine stumble over her DOB: grudging admiration, laced with a modicum of envy.
It will come as no surprise to anyone who’s followed me for even 10 seconds that secrecy and deception are not skills I’ve ever had success with honing. The closest I’ve got is when I used to pretend to be my sister, using her ID – which said I was seven years older than I was – to gain entry to the Soundhouse, the N7-adjacent nightclub du jour throughout my teenage years.
Sure, I know that what Sorokin did was wrong – she served almost two years in prison for grand larceny and theft of services, was released in February of this year and is currently in ICE custody, having overstayed her visa – but I can’t help but admire the sheer nerve required not only to get away with such deception, but to see it through to an end that was, ultimately, very bitter.
Coyle’s story ended well, of course. Having been booted out of Six (RIP), she went on to gain a place in Girls Aloud, the girl group formed on the UK show Popstars: The Rivals, which went on to become the biggest selling UK girl group of the 21st century and amass a fortune of more than £30 million (by May 2010, according to my oracle, Wikipedia).
Bertie Ahern, too, did well out of his deception – according to the notoriously accurate networthpost.org, Patrick Bartholomew Ahern (Wikipedia says it’s Bartholomew Patrick Ahern; a rep for Mr Ahern has yet to respond to requests for comment) is worth a cool $`18 million. The Irish Independent, too, reports that Ahern receives in excess of €80,000 in pension payments from the Irish Government (I’m suddenly, inexplicably, wondering if I’d rather this money go to him or to the building of a city centre white water rafting facility and, honestly, I’m not sure).
The conclusion of all of this is, of course, that it pays to be a chancer in Ireland and in Ireland only – Anna Sorokin didn’t exactly do well out of her foray into con artistry (although Frank Bagnale did okay, so maybe it’s SEXISM. Again).
I couldn’t write anything about chancers without, yet again, referring to Faye Dinsmore, now-wife of Web Summit’s Paddy Cosgrave, who – back when she was the mere girlfriend of Paddy Consgrave – somehow convinced everyone in Irish media that she was Ireland’s top blogger; sold tickets to an awards ceremony in the Mansion House where she doled out awards to other Irish bloggers (what?!) and then promptly… disappeared?
I reached out to her once, by email, to ask about her “sudden” rise to fame. I asked her why so many of her Facebook followers were from the Middle East; when she had decided to start blogging; why she thought an awards ceremony would be the way to go… And, sadly, I no longer have her response, although I remember one particular line almost verbatim, when she spoke about being spotted by a model scout.
“I was plucked from obscurity in the library of Trinity College…”
Like I said, you have to love a chancer.
Just a reminder: all content has been available to all subscribers throughout the month of October! But from November 1st, only my ‘And Another Thing…’ post will be available to everyone. Personal writing and weekly money diaries will be for paying subscribers only. xoxo
Whattttttt is this about Faye Dinsmore?! I need more (pardon the pun!) she is selling knitwear at the mo' - which has raised eyebrows here in Donegal - and I knew she was married to Cosgrave, but never heard a word about the blogger craic?!