Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (2023)

The Bridgerton stories takes a jump back in time (mostly) and instead of showing another venture into the Regency marriage market, we get a series about the royals own marriage. Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (2023) focuses on the arranged marriage of Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz to George III of Great Britain, starting when her brother Adolphus signs the betrothal contract and they head off to England in 1761.

Obligatory note: This series is based on historical characters but is not a strict historical story! Everyone should know that about Bridgerton by now, but the show starts with Lady Whistledown’s voiceover and this text:

And a reminder for readers, any whining about “Queen Charlotte wasn’t Black” will be deleted. To harp on that subject smacks of racism. Anyway!

Overall, I give this series a solid but slightly underwhelming “B” grade. Neither this nor season two have matched the fun and fast pace of the first season, alas. In this one, I felt like the plot meandered without that driving forward movement that the previous Bridgerton series had. Because the marriage is assumed from the start, there’s no suspense and the push-pull between the couple feels rather forced.

This show spends a lot of time making young Charlotte’s life look harder and unhappier than it probably was. She and George reportedly had a rather loving married life, especially for the standard arranged royal marriage. They had a huge passel of children, and they lived together in pastoral comfort at Kew Palace. George had an upper respiratory illness and possible depressive episode in 1765, but he didn’t have a serious mental breakdown until the 1780s. That gave the couple two decades of relatively peaceful cohabitation, which we don’t get onscreen. OK, so that wouldn’t make for a typical romance soap-opera plot, but maybe this wasn’t the best choice of source material for a TV show then?

I did like the way Charlotte as a Black woman being Queen was shown as the “explanation” for the more integrated Regency-era world of the later Bridgerton seasons. While it stretches credulity to think high society would have changed in one generation, at least the racism is addressed in various ways through different characters. Maybe if this series was more about this aspect, with Lady Danbury as the main character and Queen Charlotte in the background, I might have found it more compelling. Of course, then it would be social commentary and not romance, and the show-runners probably want to stick with what’s been a hit for them.

The other thing I enjoyed was that we finally saw actual gay sex in Bridgerton! Not just hinted at or glimpsed — this show has a full relationship between Brimsley (Sam Clemmett) and Reynolds (Freddie Dennis). At first, it looks like they’re just getting it on (which is fine, since the Bridgerton world is OK with having sex for fun), but as the episodes progress, they’re shown to have a deeper understanding based on their shared jobs. It’s essentially a workplace romance — they understand each other, like no-one else can, because of the unique work they do. In a nod to historical accuracy, their relationship is hidden and has a poignant ending.

On the minus side, I have to say that the depiction of George’s mental illness felt a little exploitative because it’s just a plot point to create division and drama between him and Charlotte. While one whole episode is supposedly from his point of view, it used his “fits” as an excuse and doesn’t look too carefully at how he feels or perceives things. A lot of time is given to the overly punitive “treatments” for his condition, and that felt more like torture p0rn instead of a perceptive look at mental illness in the 18th century. I also wasn’t thrilled by showing his POV in a flashback episode — frankly if the story had been told sequentially, that would have made the first episodes far more interesting to me.

The various flash-forwards to the Regency-era characters were enough time jumping. Plus, that got really good with the conversations between Violet Bridgerton and Agatha Danbury. Those were lovely and had a depth that the rest of the show lacked. When so much of this show and world has focused on young folks finding love and having sex, it’s nice to see the same topics at least subtly addressed for grown-ass women. Again, if this series had been all about Lady Danbury’s backstory and linked to her present day, I’d have been thrilled!

 

 

Costumes in Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story

This story is mostly set in the 1760s, aside from the bits in the Regency era, and I’m not going to talk about those since they don’t tread any new costume ground. I was a little surprised that the 18th-century costumes didn’t go into the wild flights of fancy that we saw in the first two Bridgerton series. No wacky bright colors or screamingly modern fabrics and trims. Mostly, the costumes look like a reasonable version of 18th-century English fashions, with a few oddities that I’ll get to. The overall aesthetic is far more restrained than the previous Bridgerton costume designs.

Starting chronologically, Charlotte’s traveling outfit is the weirdest thing she wears. The jacket is a very modern take on an 18th-c. riding jacket, with something like inflatable floaties on the arms.

Wearing this in the carriage to meet George, she complains to her brother about what she’s wearing, ranting about a whalebone corset that may “stab” or “cut” her. EYEROLL That’s not how it works, folks. The costumer designers said in a video interview that this dialog was in the script, written by Shonda Rimes, and I wish they’d corrected her.

FYI, “whalebone” is the popular name for baleen, which is a flexible part of a whale’s mouth used for filter feeding. It’s made of keratin, just like human fingernails. It was used as corset boning because of its strength and because it molded to shape with heat. It is not brittle and sharp like, say, a chicken bone that gets stuck in the throat. Moving on.

One of the designers, Laura Frecon, did say she and the other costume designer, Lyn Paolo, had modern inspirations for Charlotte’s costumes. In a Goldderby video, she said:

“We wanted to make a very modern version of this time period. Yes, we did all of our historical research, but we also looked to high fashion. We took inspiration from Dior and especially the Galliano period of Dior. We made boards and boards of fashion so that we could pull that into the designs of the young Charlotte.”

I guess they mean like this?

Whatever.

That’s the biggest foray into odd shapes. Other costumes had more traditional inspirations. Lyn Paolo talked to the Hollywood Reporter about Charlotte’s ivory duchess satin wedding gown:

“Laura and I went to Kensington Palace and saw Queen Elizabeth’s wedding gown, which had this amazing iconography from each colony. We thought, wouldn’t it be great if we did this, so we incorporated the Tudor and the Yorkshire Rose into the hem along with some other very British pieces of iconography. That embroidery matches the embroidery on George’s wedding suit. So, they’re bonded.”

After their wedding comes their coronation, and the show’s costumes bear little relation to history here.

Let’s see, they’re both wearing some ermine in the show and in the portraits … there’s some gold fabric in both … crowns exist in both.

One thing I noticed is that young Queen Charlotte doesn’t really wear the sack gown or robe à la française, which was the peak of fashion in the 1760s. Other women like her mother-in-law and Lady Danbury, plus extras, do wear it, so I guess this is on purpose? Is she supposed to be fashion-forward because she’s young and hip? That’s a subtlety that few people but us costume history nerds are going to get, and it makes me twitch more than it makes me appreciate the design.

Check out these typical gowns of the period:

And this isn’t obviously a sack gown but probably is:

Then there’s Charlotte’s gowns in the TV show:

Charlotte’s gowns are a decade early, they’re more like the robe a l’anglaise:

Not clear in this portrait either but that straight front closure seems more like an anglaise to me:

Some of Charlotte’s gowns have a front opening with a stomacher, so they could be a sack back, but they aren’t. Yeah, that was done, but when the robe à la française was SO common, I just wonder.

There’s one fantasy princess gown take on 18th-c. styles that Charlotte wears for the Danburys’ first ball. Kinda looks like it’s made of sequined fabric, and I’m not mad about that.

Most of Charlotte’s gowns are in soft, pale colors, and costume designer Laura Frecon said in that Goldderby video: “The inspiration for young Charlotte’s colors in the first episodes was the Impressionists paintings.” That is, until she makes an important confrontation with her mother-in-law, wearing this bright purple gown:

There’s hidden messages in some of the costumes. India Amarteifio, who plays young Charlotte, told Vogue:

“The details are amazing as well. For instance, King George was really interested in astronomy and, as the series progresses, you can spot little stars and astrological signs in Charlotte’s looks. It’s a visual representation of her connection to him, and those motifs are often literally close to her heart. I thought that was beautiful.”

In addition to skipping the sack-back gown, Charlotte’s costumes also venture father forward in time with a “zone” or cutaway front. That’s the upside-down V shape instead of the V stomacher. As Kendra has written here before:

The (so-called) “zone front“*: in which there is a separate overbodice front piece that slopes away from the center front neckline out to the waist, showing an underbodice (“waistcoat”). This cutaway style was hugely popular in the 1780s, and could either indicate a specific dress style that was cut with this line (like the robe à la polonaise), or could simply be added as a menswear touch to a nightgown, riding habit, redingote, etc. (The 18th-Century Robe à la Polonaise).

*Because it’s my life’s work, I need to clearly state that the term “zone” is entirely modern! There’s no period term to describe this style, other than an “open” bodice or dress (but earlier, V-shaped openings over stomachers — like on a française — were also called “open.” So, we’re screwed. I’m going to call it “cutaway” here as a shorthand).

So the queen wears more 1770s and 1780s styles than she does 1760s.

She wears this style even more when she’s pregnant.

Which, OK, maybe, but the more common front closures of the period could more easily accommodate a pregnancy. This rare surviving example is a bit later than Charlotte’s first pregnancy, but the type of garment and function could be worn earlier.

She’s not the only one to dabble in this 1780s fashion. Young Violet Ledger (later Bridgerton; played by Connie Jenkins-Greig) wears the style too. Is this fashion supposed to be for the younger ladies then?

Yet Violet also gets a sack-back gown, so it’s not that the zone/cutaways have to mean “young.” Yeah, I’m stretching to find a reason for these costume choices, when undoubtedly it’s just that the folks in charge wanted to mix it up and have a variety of styles. They weren’t thinking about and did not care that certain clothes were more fashionable in one decade or another. That’s why we here at Frock Flicks exist, folks, to nitpick that shit!

The other lady worth discussing is young Lady Danbury (Arsema Thomas), who really should be the star of this show, IMNSHO. This amazing character gets an equally amazing wardrobe. Starting with this wonderful gold robe à la française:

She becomes a lady-in-waiting to the queen, along with these biddies:

She throws the first ball of the season wearing this sparkly number:

Lady Danbury is one to stand out, and not just because she’s a strong Black woman in a white upper-class world. Her costumes are the only ones that regularly dip into the brighter Bridgerton aesthetic seen in seasons one and two.

And is it just me, or does this costume feel like a call-back to Belle (2013)? Not identical, of course, just a bit of a reference.

And this suit that Lady Danbury wears to meet the King’s mother, Princess Augusta, does it remind you of anything?

I immediately thought of Dangerous Liaisons (1988). Again, not a repro, but there’s got to be some inspiration going on.

One of her most memorable costumes is what Lady Danbury wears to introduce her son at court:

Unlike the previous seasons of Bridgerton, this is NOT a hat-free production! Probably because this isn’t a bonnet era, and while I agree that bonnets are the worst, the Regency could have been done with other hats too. Seasons one and two did let Lady Danbury wear smart little structured hats, and here she’s a hat-wearer in her youth. So now Lady Danbury wears hats when she’s outdoors and / or visiting, and these are usually small perching hats like this rounded one:

A big straw one with a looped edge and upturned back:

Perky little tricorns, like this blue velvet one that matches her cape:

And she has every variety for mourning (that’s not a spoiler because she’s a widow in seasons one and two):

But Lady Danbury not the only one who gets hats here, yay! When Queen Charlotte is outdoors, she wears a hat (even though a servant also holds a parasol over her).

The King’s mother, Princess Augusta (Michelle Fairley), also wears hats, specifically with riding-jacket ensembles when she goes visiting.

Otherwise, Princess Augusta wears very formal sack gowns, since she’s the oldest and most formal woman at court.

This tracks since Princess Augusta was a strong figure in George’s life and continued to meddle in his life during his marriage.

OK, now for the boys! We don’t discuss a lot of historical menswear because in frock flicks it’s either suits (Victorian or later) or uniforms (any period), and those bore us. But I do enjoy 18th-century menswear, not the least of which is because I have a drag king persona, Léonard, who I make clothes for. Apparently, this show’s costume designers are fans of the period’s menswear too because in that Goldderby video, they both gushed about them! Laura Frecon said:

“I love this period for men’s costumes. The embroidery for the men’s waistcoats was math in itself. Talking to the embroiderer about how do you make the embroidery from the coat match the waistcoat — it was such a process. All the buttons were either embroidered or they were heavily jeweled. It was just so exciting. All of the cravats and stocks had lace. It was great to watch the actors transform in the fitting room.”

All-over embroidery like this is a bit more common among French suits of the time. The typical British style used metallic bands and laces in the 1760s, with loads of embroidery coming in a little later. Compare with these fashionable British upper-class men:

Here’s a bit of metallic embroidery:

Embroidery in extant suits, but found a decade or two later:

Lyn Paolo agreed, saying: “The men’s costumes are my favorite. It’s just more subtle, and people don’t notice it. I feel that it’s unfortunate that the ladies get all the attention.” They’re so subtle, it’s hard to get good screenshots of all those details:

It’s easier to see Charlotte’s brother, Adolphus’ (Tunji Kasim) suit, when he visits:

Lyn Paolo then talked specifically about George’s costumes:

“Whenever George was in public, he would be heavily embellished, he’d be The King — the wedding, the coronation, the balls. All of his jackets and waistcoats were heavily embroidered, and we added gold bullion and jewels.”

When he was with Charlotte or at Kew, he was Just George, and then he became simpler and less regal. For me, that was very poignant because he was happier away from the limelight.”

Above, you can see George’s embroidered wedding suit, and here’s his embroidered coronation suit:

Here’s some of his more private outfits:

Lyn Paolo told how they took great care with the servants’ costumes too:

“For Brimsley and Reynolds, we cast the buttons, we had the buttons made for their costumes. Brimsley’s costume had Charlotte’s insignia on the button, and then Reynolds had George’s. These little touches, the actors’ loved because it showed, ‘I belonged to George’s house or Charlotte’s.'”

I can only tell that there are insignias on the buttons, but I’ll trust that it’s custom.

I haven’t talked about the hairstyling in this series, because Kendra’s going to write about that next. As longtime readers may know, she’s researched the history of 18th-century hair/wig styling and wrote a book about how to do it yourself: 18th Century Hair & Wig Styling: History & Step-by-Step Techniques. It’s been out of print for several years, but a second printing comes out in July 2023. You can get a discount on presale orders up until the book is released — you’ll save $15, and if you live outside of the U.S., you’ll also save $10 on shipping.

So just the costumes this time, hair later!

 

 

What do you think of the Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story?