Neale Whitaker (left), 64, migrated from the UK in 1999 and has worked as an editor, TV presenter and interior-design expert. His partner, David Novak-Piper, also 64, is a hair and make-up artist. They live in Berry, NSW.
NEALE: David and I met in 2003 at a fundraiser in Sydney. I was in a cabaret act performing The Supremes’ Stop! In The Name Of Love. David was the make-up artist. He was very handsome with a twinkle in his eye. Stylish, too, in a pair of suede cowboy boots and jeans that fitted him well.
After the show, we had a few drinks together and arranged to meet up a few days later at The Tilbury Hotel [in Woolloomooloo]. We had some lovely dinners together – you know, some good, old-fashioned dating. This was before Grindr and Tinder: we’d just phone each other and set up a date.
Even when we started seeing each other regularly, we continued to live separately. I had a little terrace in Darlinghurst; David was living in a grand old apartment in Woollahra with beautiful chandeliers, antique cabinets and two gorgeous Italian greyhounds. To this day, he loves elegant, old style.
We didn’t live together until 2007, when we bought a bigger terrace in Surry Hills. I was working for [interior-design magazine] Belle at the time. Back then, there was no same-sex marriage: our only option was a civil union at the British Consulate General – which we did in an office with a Union Jack and portrait of the Queen on the wall. Later, we had a reception in Darlinghurst.
We’ve been through a lot. In 2023, David had a heart attack that led to a quintuple bypass. He had a tendency towards depression before it happened, but the surgery exacerbated it. That’s why I stood down from The Block, to spend more time at home [Whitaker was a long-standing judge on the home-renovation reality-TV series]. We became quite reclusive, I suppose – just us, our dogs and our home near Berry. I was very frightened: there were moments when I thought I might lose him. He went to a really dark place.
We went on a trip to Europe at the end of last year and it was wonderful to see him really start to get better. We decided to sell our one-hectare property – we loved it, but it was a lot of work – and bought a lovely, heritage house in the heart of Berry. We’re getting on with our lives again; it’s the start of a new chapter.
Like every couple, we’ve had our rows over the years, and those rows were pretty volatile back in our drinking days. We were heavy drinkers, but we’ve been sober since David’s heart attack. We’re not perfect: we still argue about packing the dishwasher and, at the moment, David is fixated on a beautiful, bright-pink rug that I’m not sure about. But our disagreements are good-natured now – and we’re in accord when it comes to the big picture. Our senses of style, while different, are complementary.
Our dogs – a Weimaraner named Teddy, and Graham, a little Italian greyhound – have been a major part of David’s recovery and our ongoing happiness. I’ve never seen David as content as he is now: he has a zest for life that’s been missing for years. He’s enjoying planning the new house and has a real vision for the garden. That will be his happiest place.
DAVID: I met Neale at Tank Nightclub in the city. He was sitting by himself reading the newspaper and I thought, “You’re rather nice.” Very handsome, bald head. He had on a black T-shirt and looked quite buff and masculine. I was cheeky. I said, “The theme’s 1970s. Would you like me to pop an afro wig on you?” He gave me a wry smile.
He had his nose and head powdered and I didn’t see him again until later on in the evening when he came on stage, looking very sexy in a frilled, red shirt and dark sunglasses, And he was actually singing, not miming. Later, he’d sing Mack the Knife to me.
At the after-party, I felt sure he was following me around the room. I was a little smug. I thought, “I’ve caught me a dish here.” He had such a beautiful aura. I’d never met anyone like him before; I loved him from the moment we met. Our civil union was just a small ceremony: it took all of five minutes. I’d love to get married properly and wear a white suit. I’ve planned it all in my head. I suggested we get married on our property, but Neale just laughed it off. I think we will in the future; it’s all about timing. I was probably making it sound bigger than Ben Hur.
He’s very English, very stiff-upper-lip. He talks about the weather a lot. When he wakes up, he has to have his cup of tea and read his paper. He’s also very British with his driving. He sticks to his lane and is very courteous and always obeys the speed limit. I’m forever saying, “Go a bit faster, overtake.” I’m a terrible back-seat driver.
I lost my mother in 2021 and, two months later, my brother died by suicide. And in January the next year, I had a heart attack. Was I aware that he was worried about me? Totally. When we weren’t together, he’d text me and he’d call me. He’d leave messages: “Please call me” – but I just couldn’t answer the phone. He was always there for me.
He was so unhappy, seeing me so low. Of course, he worried about me harming myself. He held me and was very tearful, and said he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost me. He told me that he loved me very much.
Most of his groupies are mature women and their husbands, who ask him, “Can I get a selfie of you with me for my wife?” That always makes me laugh. He’s very popular. I always watch him on the telly [Whitaker is currently a judge on Channel 7’s My Reno Rules]: I’m very proud of him.
This new home will be our forever home. It has beautiful bones and we share the same vision for it. It needs love and attention … and a new kitchen and bathrooms. There’s a cubbyhouse in the back garden, which has to go. It’s such an eyesore and it’s huge.
If we have a disagreement and one person goes to bed early, it’s usually me. Neale will come to bed later and tap me on the shoulder and tell me that he loves me. It’s pretty amazing, the relationship we have: I have nothing but gratitude.
Lifeline: 13 11 14
Read more from Good Weekend’s Two of Us column:
Stephen Lacey – Zealous cyclist, keen student of design and style, and purveyor of fine drinking experiences. Once stepped into the ring with a man of the cloth and copped a cracked rib for his trouble – all in the name of getting the story, of course.Connect via X or email.
