It is both a difficult and rare thing to lend something like “depth” to the proverbial mean girl. More often than not, it simply isn’t done. The mean girl’s sole purpose is to act as the antagonist and counterpoint toward the so-called good girl. There is not supposed to be something “to her”—other than the fact that she’s a huge bitch for ostensibly no reason other than the joy of it. It’s all in service of making the “good girl” come across as even more beneficent. In the case of Bridgerton’s third season, the “good girl,” however many gray areas her goodness might have, is Penelope Featherington a.k.a. Lady Whistledown (Nicola Coughlan). And the bad one is, as usual, Cressida Cowper (Jessica Madsen)—a last name befitting someone with her personality, though not her frame.
As for Penelope, after getting the one thing she never thought she could—Colin Bridgerton (Luke Newton)—she ought to know, as an avid reader of books, that the laws of narrative state that, as Bridget Jones (meets Jane Austen) once put it, “It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces.” For that’s exactly what happens to her Lady Whistledown life. Because once she at last secures Colin’s affections, the risk of her alter ego being exposed amplifies tenfold. And all thanks to Queen Charlotte (Golda Rosheuvel) sensing in Lady Whistledown an air of weakness for not chastising her failure to predict and steer a match between Francesca Bridgerton (Hannah Dodd) and Lord Samadani (David Mumeni). Instead, Francesca has gravitated toward the equally shy and introverted John Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin (Victor Alli), which is in direct “violation” of the queen’s wishes. Thus, the queen was expecting to be mocked in some way by Lady Whistledown. That she isn’t turns out to be almost as affronting to the queen if she were. So it is that the queen sends out a missive to the entire ton offering five thousand pounds to the person with viable information that can accurately identify Lady Whistledown.
Among the many others that hear news of this reward is Cressida, who gets the bright idea to find out who Lady W is herself. It seems, to her, the only way she can break free of a forced marriage. Indeed, with her father arranging her betrothal to a man “thrice” her age, Lord Greer (Richard Durden), Cressida’s occupations are hardly on Penelope’s impending nuptials to Colin. That is, until she finds herself at their engagement party overhearing everyone atwitter over their speculations about what will happen to Lady Whistledown once she is unmasked. As they go on about the reputation of Whistledown’s family being ruined and how no one will marry her after her real name is revealed, it all starts to sound better and better to Cressida. Like a “get out of jail free” card. Not only will she not have to marry, but she’ll be an “untouchable” with the liberty to do as she pleases. So it is that she stands up at the end of episode five, “Tick Tock,” and declares herself to be the scribe everyone has been looking for. This happening just as Penelope was about to force herself to confess (thanks to being threatened by Eloise [Claudia Jessie]). Ergo, her anxiety attack about that gives way to one about Cressida getting all the credit for her work, her brand. Because the only thing worse than being known for who she truly is, as it happens, is someone else trying to assume her identity openly. And who else would do such a thing but Cressida? As Penelope says, “It’s just like Cressida to take that which is not hers.”
And yet, throughout the season, showrunner Jess Brownell makes it clear that Cressida is not without her cause for being a total putain. Or, in Regency speak, a saucebox. For viewers are given a glimpse into her oppressive, abusive home life like never before. While her mother, Lady Cowper (Joanna Bobin), might show a shred of occasional humanity here and there, it is her father, Lord Cowper (Dominic Coleman), who shows no mercy or compassion at all. Instead, it’s apparent that he views his only daughter as a massive embarrassment/burden. Thus, when she pulls the “I’m Lady Whistledown” stunt, he is livid enough to send her away to live with her Aunt Joanna in Wales (the London society equivalent of Siberia). But not before Cressida starts making moves of her own to attempt to secure a future of independence. Alas, her mother does little to boost her already low self-esteem when she tells her, “You have many gifts, but cleverness is not amongst them.” This when Cressida asks if she believes she could be Lady W.
Tragically for Cressida, it’s fairly obvious to everyone she’s a wheyface, therefore could never be capable of coming up with a column like Lady Whistledown’s. Even so, she tries to emulate it, albeit in such a way as to make it much more TMZ-like, spreading slanderous gossip instead of the informed kind. And, needless to say, she chooses to home in on the Bridgertons, none too subtly suggesting that there are so many children in the brood because not all of them are of “legitimate” parentage. Luckily for Violet (Ruth Gemmell), the real issue of Lady Whistledown is delivered almost immediately after Cressida’s faux version is disseminated. Having been discredited and shamed, she decides to take a different approach to escaping a fate worse than death: living in Wales. Thus, she resorts to a classic method in the mean girl “bag of tricks”: blackmail. Managing to do enough “research” by going from printer to printer throughout the various bowels of London, Cressida gets the lead and intel she needs to corner Penelope and demand double the reward amount that the queen is asking in exchange for not revealing her identity to the entire ton.
The thing about mean girls, of course, is that just when you think you might be able to “empathize” with them for being a total bitch, they go and do or say something more cunty than ever. Like Cressida telling Penelope, upon confronting (cuntfronting?) her with what she now knows, “…thinking back on everything, it makes perfect sense. No one would ever suspect you as you are so very forgettable.” Considering the time period, and even for as “progressive” as Penelope is, she’s still highly susceptible to the fear of her reputation being ruined. So naturally, she responds to the threat with even more panic than she did when Eloise was pressing her to confess. Because this time, not only is someone far more merciless involved, but so is the pressure to “pay up” in order to keep the secret under wraps. Unluckily for Penelope, Colin decides to insert himself into the situation (in addition to her vag, as we saw for six minutes in episode five) and makes it all the worse by trying to “appeal” to her.
Among other bromides uttered, Colin proffers, “Perhaps it is understandable that, at times, her column has reflected the cruelty around her. A cruelty, I imagine, you have felt too.” But Cressida is unmoved by his transparent attempt to get her off their backs, especially when he makes the mistake of trying to compare his loving family situation to hers, insisting, “Surely your father will welcome you back to London when all of this passes. A family’s love is enduring.” Cressida hardens through her pain as she snaps back, “That is the difference between you and me. You take for granted that you will always have your family’s support. We are not the same, Mr. Bridgerton. And we never will be.” In short, it’s her version of Naomi Campbell saying, “Don’t compare yourself to me, ever. You are not on my level, Nicole, you never will be on my level. Do not compare yourself to me” or John Bender in The Breakfast Club saying, “Don’t you ever—ever—compare yourself to me, okay? You got everything and I got shit.”
Usually, that’s the case for mean girls when it comes to getting an emotionally equipped set of parents. Sure, they might have other kinds of material riches, but, more often than not, girls like Cressida are made, not born, as a result of their upbringing. Something that has not been shown very frequently at all in most pop culture, namely movies like Heathers (Heather Chandler), She’s All That (Taylor Vaughn), Legally Blonde (Vivian Kensington), The Princess Diaries (Lana Thomas), Mean Girls (Regina George, obviously) and so many others. For most, such emotional nuance isn’t the point. But rather, the mean girl, by design, is intended to make the “good girl” of the situation look both better and like the full-stop victim in the scenario. But Cressida herself falls prey to victimhood when all her schemes go awry and she ends up being exiled to Wales anyway. And it is during this scene of her sitting sadly in the carriage that a voiceover of Penelope writing as herself for the first time in the column pronounces, “I wish you only the best.”
In truth, however, no one really wishes that for the mean girl. She’s simply too insufferable for the normie/less attractive set. And yes, perhaps “being hot” and thin does go to one’s head at times to the point where they think they can treat anyone and everyone like “lesser than” trash. But, if nothing else, Charli XCX is here for that vibe, immortalizing mean girls like Cressida in her Brat song of the same name that mythologizes bitch behavior with the lyrics, “Hedonistic with the gravel drawl and dead eyes/You said she’s anorexic and you heard she likes when people say it/Think you already know her, but you don’t/This one’s for all my mean girls/This one’s for all my bad girls.” So here’s to you, Cressida Bitchface. It’s not your fault you’re such a bitch.
