Snippets - The Madelines

Hint: One is in West End Girl, the album of the year, for sure, if not decade

Cover art of West End Girl by Lily Allen, whose saintly inspiration was written about in this Esquire article.

And who the fuck is Madeline?

(Not these overpriced gluten free cookies, that’s for sure.)

For those who don’t know, British singer-songwriter Lily Allen dropped her 5th album, West End Girl, in October 2025, recorded over a mere 10 days in Los Angeles following the traumatic (and dramatic) dissolution of her marriage to actor David Harbour.

I know, I know, every story has two sides, but Lily’s is pretty compelling (also, believe women… but which woman? More on this soon). The album takes you chronologically through their marriage, starting with the moment he asked to open it up. Cue the ominous thunder and rapidly setting sun.

Open it up.

Those three words should be banned. They’ve become so cliche. Culturally obnoxious. Self serving. A fucking sham. (My possibly unpopular opinion, I know, but also I am tired of not saying it out loud.)

“If it has to happen, do you want to know?” says the husband-character in the song, “Ruminating,” one of my favorites, but also one I am unable to listen to if I am in a certain mood.

What a line, Lily says, insinuating the hurt and horror of having such a thing said to you by someone you love, and she’s right. The gall. The entitlement. Which is the premise of the album: A husband asks his wife, who has moved across an ocean to marry and live with him, to open up their marriage. She relents, reluctantly. Trying to be open to open. They discuss rules, guidelines. Only with strangers, no one they know. No feelings. Just sex. Rules which he later breaks. Shatters. Decimates.

This crushes her. Makes her feel crazy. Pushes her to the brink of sanity, and close to relapse. The album moves chronologically through this meta-fictional retelling of a painful chapter of her life. She doesn’t specifically address open, poly, or ENM (ethical - ha - nonmonogamy) lifestyles directly, but what happens to her is directly related to this (new and not new) movement.

In recent years, open relationships have become the cool girl in the room. Vanilla is out. Monogamy has become conventional, or worse, conservative. You know the cultural needle has shifted when a happily married young mom living in Park Slope, Brooklyn (where I lived for ten years with my young kids) writes a bestselling memoir extolling the benefits (mainly) of open marriage. Blech. I turned off her NPR interview mid breathy story. No thank you.

Anyway, back to this album. OHMYGOD.

When I first listened to it - all the way through, non stop - I was undone by the searingly honest lyrics, but also the story telling. More musical memoir than mere album (rumor has it there might actually be a play coming out) where the protagonist, or narrator if you prefer (no one is entirely innocent as Lily Allen would be the first to admit) takes narrative control of her story - of her LIFE.

For anyone that has been betrayed or stayed in a marriage/relationship that was coercive or toxic or worse, can relate on a visceral level to this album. Which is perhaps why many claim it will go triple platinum (too soon to know for sure) because it has hit a nerve. Many nerves, if you go by Spotify downloads.

Allen opens every proverbial closet, sings out secrets, airs the laundry, or spills the tea as the kids say. But in a way that feels fair to her - sharing her side, her perspective. As far as I know David Harbour has not shared his side. Yet. But he’ll be fine. The men are almost always fine, aren’t they? Even when they allegedly commit actual crimes (see Louis C.K., James Franco, and even, perhaps happening in real time, Kevin Spacey).

But let’s talk about writing our truth. I know firsthand how liberating and healing it can be. The point should always be (in my opinion anyhow) to make sense out of one’s pain and trauma, and best case scenario, create art. Writing for vengeance, to deliberately cause harm or chaos, is not art, though it can be posed that way.

This album feels like the former, with catchy, pop friendly, and heart wrenching lyrics that follows a painful chapter of a woman’s life when she is at her lowest, and tracks (track by track), how she moves through it and ultimately prevails. Art. This is art.

But we still haven’t discussed Madeline yet, have we? A character in the album who has become a meme, a Tik Tok favorite, and was even embodied by Dakota Johnson in a SNL skit.

Madeline is the Other Woman (one of them). In the titular song, she and Lily read out snippets (!) of their text and email exchanges. Madeline insists that the relationship is only about sex, with no emotional investment. But Lily doesn’t buy it, though you get the feeling she really wants to at first. Don’t we all want to believe the lies we are told? At least until the evidence is too damning to ignore.

I listened to this album from the perspective of the Lily Allen character, but I wonder what it’s like to listen to it as a Madeline. Do they feel any sense of shame at this exposure, or just irritation for being misunderstood? Maybe both?

Perhaps some Madelines think they are playing by the “rules.” Maybe they are. Or maybe they are being lied to as well. But when given more information, whether by their ENM partner or information gleaned by their own investigations, a Madeline becomes a Madeline when she is presented with truth and chooses to ignore it. In legit ENM, there is supposed to be a ton of communication between all parties involved so people can feel secure and have trust in a configuration that seems to belie the very idea.

It can work, people say, and maybe it does, for some. But when rules are changed, or goal posts moved, without consent or admission, it’s not ethical no matter the acronym. And when a Madeline suspects as much and still acts like the innocent party, as Lily Allen’s Madeline does, it’s understandable to call that behavior bullshit.

You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Madeline.