It's 2024. Do we really want Bridget Jones back?
Also featuring fitness snacking, poor airport etiquette and "what does your tote bag say about you?"
Eight years ago, Bridget Jones was my idol. As I leant up against the back of a shed at a GCSE summer party in my leopard fur coat, ripped fishnets and leather mini-skirt, a Marlboro Gold in hand, and swigging Chardonnay straight from the bottle whilst flirting with a few boys, I couldn’t help but think, “God, Bridget would be proud.”
Looking back, she probably wasn’t the best idol to have.
But for many girls of a similar age to me, Bridget Jones undoubtedly left her mark. I only had to type “Bridget” into my Facebook Messenger and WhatsApp history to find her name scattered across countless conversations.
One friend WhatsApped: “Are you feeling like Bridget Jones?” in response to a friend who wrote, “Guys this is the first time I’ve got properly drunk alone and I’m cringing myself out” during the first Covid-19 lockdown. The next day, the same girl said, “I’m so hungover, my tash is out of hand and I have no jawline - I really am like Bridget Jones.”
Another friend once put on a group chat: “Anyone feeling sexy? Need to take a pic of two people for my art project?” Someone was quick to reply with: “I’m wearing a sexy bra but feeling a bit like Bridget Jones with my muffin top” *insert picture of her flaunting her completely flat stomach* - no “muffin top” in sight.
Or my friend’s old “finsta” account (an Instagram account that only your closest friends follow) called Bridgey, with the bio: Wholesomely messy. The running joke of the account was anything she and her friends had done that was tragic, wild, drunk or unphotogenic. It also featured a screenshot of her Amazon order of a “boyfriend pillow” and video footage of her fake hen do. To be “Bridget Jones” was all about being someone who was on a messy, emotional rollercoaster while being fun, lighthearted and cute all at the same time.
Even my mum reminded me several times before going travelling to “not do a Bridget Jones.” She insisted I triple-checked my bag before going to an airport to make sure no one had shoved a cocaine-stashed fertility snake bowl amongst my dirty clothes and Perudo set. And in all fairness to her, I did quadruple-check my backpack after I’d stayed in a hostel run by a circus group in northern Thailand. To my dismay, the only thing I’d picked up was someone’s empty condom wrapper. Thank God I didn’t take that on the plane. I dread to think what that would have insinuated about me to security.
Bridget Jones was a heroine for many hedonistic girls who felt imperfect and wanted to adopt a “fuck it” attitude. She made it cool to be single (Sixteen-year-old me definitely forgot she was thirty-two in the first film, which would have seemed ancient and uncool back then). She felt far more relatable than many of the other leading females in the rom-coms that we were watching at the time and was an unlikely style icon with her big pants and pastel-coloured midi dresses. And yes, let’s face it, some of us would have killed to have had two boys chasing after us at once.
But there were also so many flaws in the rom-com trilogy that the younger me didn’t realise until this week when I sat down and binged all three films -Bridget Jones’s Diary, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason and Bridget Jones’s Baby- in one day. I noticed how the films implied that you had to be less than eight stone and seven pounds to be worthy of and desirable to men, the way it romanticised the sexual harassment that Bridget received from her male work colleagues and “Uncle Geoffrey,” and the notion that being single was abnormal and would lead to death by Alsatians. These insights made it difficult to laugh along at the normalisation of such toxic behaviours in the same way I had done as a young girl (although being eaten by Alsatians is rather absurd).
With eating disorders at an all-time high amongst young girls—in under two decades, the prevalence of eating disorders has nearly doubled worldwide—and the films being hardly compatible with the #MeToo movement, many are questioning whether we really want Bridget Jones back, amid reports of the fourth film beginning filming this spring. Based on Helen Fielding’s 2013 novel, Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy, the new film will see Jones navigate the difficulties of being a single parent and returning to the dating pool as a fifty-something-year-old using social media and dating apps. The film is also rumoured to feature all three of the stellar cast, Renée Zellweger, Colin Firth and Hugh Grant.
While a lot has already been written online about the problems of Bridget Jones’ calorie counting and the romanticisation of sexual harassment, with many dismissing Bridget Jones as “a relic from a bygone era,” I thought I’d give you three other takeaways from the films that I noticed during my rewatch binge, which others have not yet commented on.
While her pursuit of finding a man seems outdated, her willingness to be emotionally vulnerable is more pertinent than ever.
In a world where it seems perfection reigns, Bridget’s candidness about feeling lonely is a refreshing reminder of the need to engage in open conversations about our mental health. With one in four adults feeling lonely and many newspapers claiming we are in a “loneliness epidemic,” these films prompted me of the necessity to check in with friends and family during tougher times. Bridget’s willingness to wear her heart on her sleeve reminds us that it is alright to mess up and you might as well laugh about it. We are all just trying to do our best, and that is perfectly alright.
Many other journalists say Bridget Jones is toxic, but her friends are extremely toxic too.
The phrase “toxic masculinity” is one many of us know very well. Examples include repressing emotions and the rejection of job roles that are “too womanly.” But in Bridget Jones, it is clear that “toxic femininity” exists. When Bridget tells her friends that Mark Darcy (played by Colin Firth) told her “I like you very much just as you are,” they are shocked. Jude asks “Just as you are? Not thinner? Not cleverer? Not with slightly bigger breasts and a slightly smaller nose?” When Bridget nods, her friends look like they might faint at the revelation. They can’t seem to understand why someone would like Bridget for who she is and that she doesn’t need to make improvements to become desirable. Or when Bridget walks into Daniel Clever’s (Hugh Grant) bathroom to find long-limbed model Lara posing naked with a newspaper in the bath, she is greeted with a “Daniel, I thought you said she was thin,” from Lara. Utterly heartbreaking. Even in the third film (made in 2016!), Bridget’s mother’s friend Una says “Are you pregnant? [Yes, responds Bridget] Brilliant, we thought you’d just got all fat again.” Rewatching the films made me realise that it is the female characters who are scrutinising every bit of Bridget for her looks and making her feel like she must lose weight to be accepted by these men. No wonder she is calorie counting in her diary when her friends and acquaintances are acting as an echo chamber for her toxic beliefs by telling this already thin woman that she could be a little bit thinner. These are clear examples of “toxic femininity” and the damaging repercussions it can cause, such as eating disorders.
Sadly, her portrayal of “what it means to be a woman” hasn’t changed all that much in some people's eyes.
Enduring pressures on women to conform to narrow standards of beauty, to be married by their early thirties and to have children by their mid-thirties due to the impending tik-tok of the biological clock still very much exist. You only have to look at the Sephora tweens, who are flocking to beauty stores to buy anti-ageing products at the age of ten in fear of getting wrinkles, or listen to a podcast with Elizabeth Day on her struggles with fertility and feeling inadequate to know that. Or, I bet, if you ask your friend who wants to get married what age they want to have tied the knot by, it will be around thirty, as otherwise you’ll be “left on the shelf.”
So to answer my question, “It’s 2024. Do we really want Bridget Jones back?” I’m unsure. Yes, I know that is a sh*t answer. No one likes someone who chooses to sit on the fence these days. I don’t want Bridget Jones back if it is going to include racist "jokes," toxic feminity and the okaying of sexual harassment. However, I’d like to think that perhaps this final film is an opportunity for Bridget to reflect on her life and define what she really wants. Also, for her friends, her lovers, her colleagues, her family and her to correct their wrongdoings and acknowledge the influence they have had on how we see our bodies. And finally, for Bridget to show what it means to be a woman in this day and age.
Conversation Starters
Tote bags have become the ultimate status symbol. They act as your portable billboard, allowing you to communicate your values and interests to the world while carrying your essentials with ease.
As Simon Mills wrote in The Times last week, “In the 2020s the branded tote bag is, to the contemporary, luxury-lifestyle completist, what the tour T-shirt was to the 1990s rock’n’roll fan: a stealthy signifier of discernment, intellect, worldliness, taste and belonging. A nod to environmental responsibilities and a handheld indication of cultural and aesthetic discrimination. The simple cotton bag as a universal humble brag. Been there, done that, got the tote.”
So what does your tote bag say about you?
Daunt Books bag
It’s official. You have never read a book and are completely uneducated unless you own a Daunt Books bag. If you are an owner, you probably live in Primrose Hill, do pilates every morning, have several unlit Diptyque candles, explicitly only use Maldon sea salt, have several Ladybirds for Grown-Ups books in your bathroom, and can often be found swimming in Hampstead Ladies Pond on the weekend. Or, you're obsessed with “BookTok” and now think that what once was a perfectly normal activity to do—reading—is now “super wholesome” and “cool.”
THE TOTE BAG by Marc Jacobs
You have “THE TOTE BAG” (yes in capital letters) imprinted on your bag to let everyone know you are the ultimate tote wearer. You’re probably a TikTok or Instagram influencer who has either been gifted the bag or you wish you were one and have spent all the money you don’t have on the “it” girl bag to try to become one. Most likely to be found doing an “unpack my bag with me” reel or “a day in the life as Love Islander Molly Mae’s PA.”
Baggu tote bag
You’re fit, you’re fun and you’re flirty. Enough said.
Anya Hindmarch tote
Congratulations. You have made it into the designer handbag society. Oh, wait, no, you haven’t, as, despite it being Anya Hindmarch, that bag only cost you £10. In your expensive-looking tote bag, you have probably got an Aldi dupe Jo Malone candle and are wearing a fake Cartier love bracelet. Maybe I’m being harsh because if you didn’t manage to knab one in Co-op, Tesco’s, ASDA, Morrisons, Sainbury’s or Waitrose, you had to buy one on eBay for over £2,000!
Hyper-local tote bag
Yes, we know you’re better than everyone else. And don’t you let us know about it? You probably live in Hackney, have never been to a Starbucks in your life, only eat Perelló Olives and Torres crisps, pop to the shops in your Boston Clog Birkenstocks, and can be found at an east London market on the weekend eating a locally sourced falafel wrap from the shop whose name is on the front of your tote.
Tesco’s “Bag for Life” carrier bag
You’re a “does exactly what it says on the tin” kind of guy. You don’t get the hype around all these canvas tote bags and just want something that is going to help you get your groceries, a four-pack of Stellas and your laptop from A to B.
After all this criticism, you might be wondering what tote I have. I’m not really a tote bag owner. But I do own a Rains waterproof backpack, so make of that what you will.
Lorna’s loves and loathes of the week
Loves
“Fitness snacking"—I don’t know about you but I never find the time to fit exercise into my daily routine. If it’s not done before 9 am, it’s not happening. Enter “fitness snacking.” No, this is not about upping your intake of extortionately expensive Barry’s recovery shakes. This concept refers to getting in short bursts of physical activity that are spread throughout your day, the idea being that these all add up, so you meet your exercise goals without setting aside a separate time for a longer workout. You can snack at work, at home, or even when you’re out and about. And with Asics’ latest research saying 15.09 minutes is all you need to experience a significant health and mood boost, I’m here for this new trend.
Credit: UT Southwestern Medical Center Home clothes - When I go back to my family home for a long weekend, I don’t pack much, as I assume there will be a few pairs of comfy pants, some old jeans and a wearable t-shirt in my chest of drawers. And every time I am wrong. Two days in and you’ll find me in my 2018 Leavers hoodie, “GEEK” imprinted crop top, ripped Topshop Joni jeans (to which my dad will say, “I hope you didn’t pay full price for those,” not realising I bought them in 2013 and would not be seen dead in them outside of the house), Jack Wills pants and rainbow stripey-toe socks. You would never catch me wearing this monstrosity of an outfit in London, but weirdly, there is something rather comforting and nostalgic about wearing it at home. These clothes take me back to the good ol’ days when I’d spend hours with my friends making Video Stars in the garden or calling X Factor on the landline for the fifteenth time as the local painter, Matt Cardle, just had to win (RIP to his short-lived singing career). However, if you ask me to go for a pint at the local pub, we will need to pre-plan it before I go home so I can pack a “normal” outfit.
Loathes
Self-checkouts- the proof that technology will never be able to replace humans. Last year, Booths, the posh northern supermarket chain, announced its plan to replace self-service tills with human cashiers. I hope the rest of the supermarket brands follow this smart move back to human service soon. I’m done with hearing the incessant “unexpected item in bagging area,” when I’m literally doing what it says, and then having to wait five minutes for someone to plug in their magical code, only to have to call them back 30 seconds later to do it all again. Bring on the last time I have to hear one of those hopeless machines say, “Thank you and, goodbye.”
Poor airport and aeroplane etiquette - There are a few basic rules that should never be ignored in an airport or when on board an aeroplane, and after my five-hour delay to Dublin last Friday, it seems that a few Ryanair passengers could do with a reminder.
We are not in Magaluf yet, so don’t start acting like we are. Aka don’t pass around your duty-free bottle of vodka to random strangers while blaring David Guetta out of your UE boom. Just because we are in an apparent time warp and “it’s 12 o’clock somewhere” doesn’t mean everyone wants to get involved in your lads holiday antics and, no, the airport has not become a nightclub.
To those who aren’t ready when they get to airport security, why not? Why are you never ready with your metals and electronics, and why don’t you have your liquids bagged? You have been standing in the queue for half an hour, walked past at least ten signs detailing how you can “get ready for security,” and yet you are holding us all up as you get out your over 100-ml liquids, metal detector and pen knife.
Taking your shoes and socks off and placing your bare feet on my headrest during the flight is not okay. Funnily enough, I don’t want your toes massaging my head or the waft of sweaty, plastic cheese crawling up my nostrils when I’m trying to sleep. When someone does this, I almost hope we enter a period of bad turbulence and have to quickly enter the brace position as we go heltering down towards the ground, causing their legs to snap off. Serves them right. This one is targeted at Katie Price, who was sitting on my row on the way back from Dublin, and had the cheek to rest her bare feet on some poor Irish bloke’s headrest in front.
That’s all for now. I hope next time you strike up a conversation with someone, it won't have to be “The weather really has been awful lately hasn’t it?”, “Any fun plans this evening?” or even worse… “How was your commute today?”
And Happy International Women’s Day!
Love LP xx