Kerry Parnell: Copy-Kating queens of the noughties

There’s no better confirmation you’re getting older than watching Gen Z plunder your youth on TikTok – like recreating a still single Kate Middleton’s outfits from the noughties.

There’s no better confirmation you’re getting older than watching Gen Z plunder your youth on TikTok.

The latest trend on the social media site is to recreate Kate Middleton’s outfits from the noughties, before she married Prince William.

Young Catherine is a phenomenon – Kate Middleton videos have had 5.7 billion views, with teenagers “Copy-Kating” her looks from the early 2000s – her fluoro roller-disco outfit, low-rise jeans and tweed miniskirts.

“Who wouldn’t want to be Kate back then,” one user wrote.

“I am not a big fan of Kate’s looks now, but I like her older ones,” posted another.

Ah, to be young again, with no concept age comes to us all, bringing with it the moment you watch a new generation picking through your past like a jumble sale, rejecting some things and delighting in others. Meanwhile, you stand sentry, like a granny with sensible shoes, offering refreshments and reminiscences.

Kate Middleton models at a student fashion show in 2002. picture: M Neilson/Getty Images

Catherine, Princess of Wales in 2022. Picture: Richard Pohle/Pool/AFP

It’s not just Kate – the hashtag #early2000s has had 2.2 billion views on TikTok too, with noughties queen Paris Hilton up there with the Princess of Wales. Even Hannah Montana’s penchant for pairing a dress with jeans has made it back on to the red carpet in real life, instead of the bin, where it should have resided for eternity.

This week two things compounded my status as an old fart, albeit a festive one. The first in the form of my secret pleasure, Emily in Paris. This delicious Netflix series is like enjoying a Parisian mini-break from your living room; a screen equivalent of biting into a crunchy croissant in Dior’s 30 Montaigne cafe and I can say that with authority as, amazingly, I did just that in 2022.

But this week, as I slumped on the sofa, scoffing my 46th chocolate, I watched Emily arrive in the arrondissement in a silver miniskirt (currently on sale for $1353) and knee-high boots. I smiled like an indulgent nanna at her outlandish outfit … until a memory began to form. “I wore that exact outfit in the ’90s, although my skirt was about $20 from Topshop,” I thought.

I packed the preposterous pleather piece when I went backpacking, as an essential item of clothing which was patently absurd – like the skirt. I sported it on nights out in Sydney, sweaty bottom notwithstanding, with my bestie Maria in her striped flares, also back in fashion. I dug out an old photo and, as I looked at it, remembered the joy of wearing ludicrous clothing and wondered when the precise moment was I stopped. I didn’t even notice it.

Lily Collins as Emily in the secret pleasure that is Emily In Paris. Picture: Marie Etchegoyen/Netflix

The second event was on Christmas Day, when my kids performed Carly Simon’s You’re So Vain to the rest of the family, with their patient uncle on guitar. It was a surprising trajectory from the Moana soundtrack, but not to their teenage cousins.

“Oh yeah, that’s a TikTok thing,” they said, explaining the song is enjoying a Kate Bush-style revival on the site.

No matter. I love it all. Go for it, I say. Keep walking into those parties like you’re walking on to a yacht – before the ship sets sail without you.