As I (alongside what I’ll only assume is the rest of the population) impatiently await the release of Bridgerton season four’s finale, I’ve had to find other ways to fill the Regency-shaped hole in my life. Recently, this has involved scouring the internet for a May Ball dress reminiscent of Violet Bridgerton’s Queen Titania costume – a vision in shimmering lilac and pale blue – while rewatching the earlier series in pursuit of that same awe the show’s magical costumery first left me feeling.

‘Regencycore’ is the name given to this aesthetic, which belongs historically to the period of 1811-1820, and it has brought back corsets, puffed sleeves, pearls and the empire silhouette with its revival. The empire silhouette style involves a high waistline, sitting just below the bust, which lets the rest of the dress flow loosely and elegantly down the body, often accompanied by short, puffy sleeves. Kate Sharma’s rich teal, silk dress in season two is a beautiful example, worn by Simone Ashley; or Daphne’s soft, pastel dress in lilac, worn by Phoebe Dynevor. Bridgerton is, of course, necessarily reliant on historical fantasy – it is “Regency with a twist,” meaning colours and other details are dramatically heightened, not kept completely accurate. This affords the show many experimental aspects, but the empire silhouette was certainly fashionable in its time, and is satisfyingly represented here in a way that feels closely authentic.

“I fear a Caius formal dinner is not quite fancy enough to warrant me wearing a Regency era ball gown”

My favourite pieces of period costumery appear in season two, when Romanticism’s influence surfaces in delicate floral embroidery and sparkling gems demonstrate the popularity of ‘paste jewellery’ in this era (where glass was made to shine like crystal). Take Kate’s purple dress in episode six, where the simple empire waist is elevated by bright, violet embroidery branching across the skirt like cherry-blossom. Penelope’s yellow beaded gown from episode one, Kate’s sparkling, pearly dress worn to her first ball of the season, and Daphne’s diamond-encrusted debutante look are among my favourites from Bridgerton due to the magical feeling of fairytale-femininity generated through fashion. Much to my dismay, I fear a Caius formal dinner is not quite fancy enough to warrant me wearing a Regency era ball gown (but the May ball just might be…watch this space).

Equally, I envy the women’s intricate updos in each episode, designs I could only dream of replicating in my own hair. From the perfectly coiled curls that frame their faces, the sleek shine of the high bun, and the braided crowns dotted with gems or tiny flowers, there are many looks on my list, yet to be perfected. Regency fashion has always demanded intricacy, attention, effort and detail – things I notice myself bothering less and less with in an era of rushed mornings and crowded calendars, but yearning more and more for.

“Fantasy, and couture, are not always equally distributed”

And it’s not just me who has fallen victim to the era’s enchantment, but high-end designers too that have embraced these historical themes in their own designs. Ganni, a Danish designer brand, plays with Regency-era fashion – their ‘taffeta maxi dress’, ‘bowdetailed cloque peplum blouse’ and ‘smocked tiered dress’ all take evident inspiration from the empire silhouette and short, puffy sleeves. Vivienne Westwood’s ‘Watteau evening dress’ of 1996 looks back to 18th century excess, as does their signature ‘three row bas relief pearl choker’. From the Vogue runway archives, Marina Moscone’s white, silk dress (spring 2025 ready-to-wear) looks back to Keira Knightley’s 2005 Pride and Prejudice one, while Jill Stuart’s (fall 2006, ready-to-wear) and Erin Fetherston’s (fall 2008, ready-to-wear) made use of regency’s empire waistline and flowing skirts once more. Elle Saab (fall 2006 couture) and Christian Dior’s (spring 2005 couture) dresses feature the same glittering adornment that makes the Bridgerton ball gowns sparkle – designs reserved for upper-class society on screen and similarly reserved for the wealthy by luxury designers. Fantasy, and couture, are not always equally distributed.

It’s clear to see that there is something extremely desirable about resurrecting the extravagance of a time we are no longer in, even if you have no real diamonds to play with, only artificial ones. Dressing up allows us to pretend we truly did attend the Bridgerton’s masquerade ball, though the runway is a devastating reminder that I am not a Vogue model invited to do so. That said, there is a danger to so much romanticisation, and I have no desire to be a young girl of the ton on the Regency marriage market, but let me at least dream of owning her wardrobe.