Meet The 10 It-Girls Re-Energising British Cool

“You’ve gone from the paparazzi focusing on a particular set of It-girls to it now [being] democratised,” says Sydney Lima, a Soho-born writer, documentary maker and girl about town. “Because of social media, everyone can choose their own It-girl. It’s not so black and white. And it’s not about having a million followers. If anything, I think it’s more about actually appealing to a community as opposed to a marketing ploy to access people for content.”

Indeed, there seems to be a consensus that a modern-day It-girl is, by default, someone who feels authentically anchored in a community that feels just beyond the mainstream grasp. “To me, there’s always been something subcultural to the It-girl,” says Osman Ahmed, a London-based writer, editor and, latterly, model, having debuted on the Conner Ives runway this September. “Every subculture has its own It-girl. Every friendship group has their own It-girl. Every club has an It-girl, even if it’s just for the night.”

Marissa Malik wears leather jacket, bandeau top, and wool skirt, Rick Owens.

Ewen Spencer

Ewen Spencer

The privileging of a “vibe” over a “look” is thrilling to see. Rather than a particular hair colour, style or waistline, success lies more in “being carefree, being silly, being hot, being funny as fuck”, says Reenie, one of the London techno scene’s must-know names.

“If I’m looking at the girls here today, there’s a definite sense of comfort in oneself, but a total lack of nastiness and superiority,” observes presenter Lea Ogunlami. “Dismantling that is really important. Waving, smiling, having a chat, having a laugh. That’s when someone’s an It-girl.”

Ewen Spencer

Ewen Spencer

Looking at the room, it’s clear the modern It-girl is more diverse than ever before, whether in terms of race, class, gender expression or provenance. Manchester-based model (and avid drummer) Libby Bennett bucks the term’s typical London-centricity; spotted on the McQueen and Chanel runways, her gamine looks and punk flair have made her one of her generation’s fastest-rising faces. And then a number of our Br-It-girls aren’t even British at all. Forget any “woke agenda”, this feels like a faithful reflection of contemporary British society, and the values and aspirations deemed worthy or beautiful within some of its most progressive and culture-setting pockets.

“Back in the day, only a very specific type of girl could be deemed an It-girl,” says Mina Galán, founder of Club Stamina, a trans-to-the-front Latin electronic music party hailed as one of London’s best. “Now people coming from the underground, which I still consider myself to be, can still be considered It-girls in a meaningful sense.”

Ewen Spencer

Ewen Spencer

Back in our Regency salon, I wonder if, perhaps, this magical essence is something you’re just born with, rather than a quality one acquires. Arguably, that’s the case for Ísadóra “Dóa” Bjarkardóttir Barney, a Central Saint Martins performance studies student and actor (she appeared in Robert Eggers’s The Northman), who reveals her provenance “from a long line of It-girls, of sorts” with a coy blush: she is perhaps best known – to date – as the daughter of Björk. While that factoid would trigger an eyeroll for some, there’s a fair argument it makes her best placed to assess it all, as someone who’s “been raised by It-girls my whole life”. To her, a defining characteristic is a – non-gender-essentialist – “feminine wit and command that is soft but firm, delicate but holds its own. A bit like meringue.”