It is not often an aesthetic makes its way from TikTok, to the world’s runways. 

From – in other words – the fun fringes of fast-moving throw-away trend, up and into the dignified, rarefied, establishment end of the fashion business … But in the case of #frazzledeglishwoman, it’s happening! No! It’s happened! 

What began life, some three years ago, as a cool-girl retro LOL on TikTok, with teenager and 20-somethings co-opting the energy and style of Bridget Jones in her original incarnation (films released before many of them had even been born), has now pitched up on autumn/winter catwalks, lookbooks and (finally) in store, where it becomes instantly relevant to those of us who definitely had been born for the first Bridget Jones film)! 

Sure, it’s a little more polished than the TikTok version (what else would you expect from Chanel, Givenchy, Valentino, and Miu Miu?), but it’s hitting all the notes, nonetheless. 

It depends upon a sort of chic hecticness bordering on chaos; an intense air of thrown-together-last-minuteness, because Frazzled English Woman – FEW – entirely forgot she had a meeting of career make-or-break importance this morning. Had she remembered, she really wouldn’t have drunk quite so much last night. 

So now she’s building an outfit through the haze of a hangover with distinct overtones of: ‘no, technically, that skirt really does not go with that coat, or those shoes. But what do you expect? There’s the hangover, as discussed, plus, FEW keeps forgetting to go and pick up a load of crucial bits from the dry cleaners, some of which she’s afraid have been disposed of by now, it’s been literally years  – in the case of one particular cocktail dress, for example.

But somehow… despite it all…  it works!

OK, so: what is it, exactly? Fundamentally: the look of leading ladies of the Nineties/ early aughts rom coms, repurposed. Original-era Bridget Jones (as mentioned). Also: Kate Winslet in The Holiday. Kiera Knightley in Love Actually, Emma Thompson and Laura Linney, also in Love Actually. 

It is: scrappy, long, hand-made scarves looped over cashmere with visible signs of moth damage, layered in turn over that shirt you thought you could get away with not ironing (you couldn’t). Knee-high heeled boots, with knee-length skirts, under which laddered hosiery is intermittently flashed (depending on how you cross your legs.) Woollen close-fitting Crombie coats (which prove far too hot the moment you hurl yourself last-minute into a tube carriage – straight into the belly of the man on whom you’ve recently developed a hopeless and horribly inappropriate crush).

Now, pulling all of this off while staying on the right side of chic, without quite tipping into the territory of “Eeek! She’s definitely having a bad day”… That’s the trick! You must be unkempt – but absolutely not un-chic.

Your first stop is Chanel for a tweed, knee-length skirt. AKA precisely the right amount of breathless cool which also looks like you’d forgotten you had it because your wardrobe is less a “wardrobe”, more a pile of clothes on a chair, in a cupboard, on the floor of the bedroom of the man you wish would call you his “girlfriend” (but he won’t), and it wasn’t until the whole structure tumbled over, that you rediscovered this piece, gave it a quick sniff test, then popped it on. (NB never wear it with the matching jacket. It’s gorgeous, but FEW is never together enough to match anything. You could wear it with the matching belt, although a safety pin is much more in keeping, because the zip was broken in a giddy haste to pull the thing on.

Berets are very FEW ( ironically, Frazzled English Woman longs to look more French). Ensure your hair is a mess of escaping tendrils, beneath it.

Next, to Miu Miu, for ballet flats (an absolute necessity for the FEW, not least because she flipped her ankle running for the night bus over the weekend, can’t face anything but flats ever since. Plus, they look so perfectly off in conjunction with the laddered tights!) and a satin bra. 

Wardrobe malfunctions are very much part of FEW’s day-to-day experience. Suddenly looking down at her own cleavage (most likely because she just dropped some sandwich debris onto it), and realising her shirt is gaping to reveal a significant expanse of bra is entirely par for the course. 

This means your bra must be exceptional. (Actually, the beautifully chaotic layering of this whole look: pink satin dress over pointelle top over bra, one layer slipping off another, off another, faux fur hurriedly bundled over an arm because IT’S SO HOT IN HERE! IS THAT JUST ME?… So Frazzled English Woman!)

Then there’s Valentino’s tweed jacket offering. Personally, I’d go with the bouclé in navy and cream, not least because it would never in a million years properly “go” with the Chanel skirt (and FEW, as established, never, ever matches). Tactical removal of buttons – one from the cuff of a sleeve, another from the front – will amp up the FEW impact expediently.

Next? A Burberry trench – beige, so it shows the stain of recently spilt latte, and oversized, so that it flaps around, a metaphor for FEW’s own personal tendency to flap; you’ll be best off with Long Gaberdine Fitzrovia. An Hermès scarf with great sentimental value, which you will lose, spend the whole of your lunch hour weeping while frantically hunting for, before remembering you didn’t actually bring it with you that morning – it’s still in the flat. In one of the mountainous clothes piles.

Finally, back to Chanel for pearls. Because sometimes? Honestly? The good pearls are all Frazzled English Woman thinks she’s got going for her. 

N.B. laddered tights at your own discretion, handmade super long scarf ideally purloined from the boyfriend-before-last, who treated you so badly, you view your possession of it as tantamount to a righteous tax on his appalling behaviour.