Let the world take our name in vain. You can’t keep a good Karen down

Meryl Streep plays writer Karen Blixen in scene in the 1985 film Out of Africa.

A few years ago I was at a dinner where guests had to nominate their favourite superpower. “Invisibility!” chorused the young chaps on my table.

I exchanged a look with the middle-aged woman next to me. “We already have that one, guys,” I remarked. They ignored us, obviously.

Singer Karen Carpenter

But now the fate of the older female to be blithely unseen seems like a blissful state of affairs compared with the eye-rolling dismissal of just about anything we have to say with one scornful phrase: “OK, Karen.”

In case you have missed it, my beautiful given name is now an insult, to be directed at a certain sort of middle-aged white woman who is, apparently, as entitled as she is ignorant.

Karen-shaming began as an attempt by black Americans on social media to find some humour in oppression and racism. A meme popularised the stereotypical “Karen": a middle-aged white woman with an asymmetrical bob asking to speak to the manager. A white woman who called the police on a black birdwatcher in New York is now known as the Central Park Karen, even though her name is Amy.

Last week, British Karens entered the line of fire, accused of being unaware of our “white privilege” and told to “educate ourselves” in a BBC podcast, No Country for Young Women. In this, Amelia Dimoldenberg, a YouTube star, and the historian Charlotte Riley (both white) veer onto “the whole Karen thing”. Riley says: “White women are quick to feel threatened when they’re really very privileged.”

What have we Karens done to deserve this cruel singling-out? The famous Karens — and there aren’t many — offer few clues as to why. There is the Doctor Who actress Karen Gillan, the models Karen Mulder and Karen Elson, the late singer Karen Carpenter, the late, great actress Karen Black, and the fictional Karen McDonald in Coronation Street and little Karen in the sitcom Outnumbered.

Actress Karen Gillan. Picture: Getty Images

Model Karen Mulder

My name was bestowed on me by my slightly name-trend-forward parents in the 1950s, before it hit peak popularity in the mid-1960s and 70s. It seems we have just been unlucky.

But what if — heaven forbid — I am a stereotypical Karen? Once or twice, dealing with a call centre, a certain Karen-ish tone might well have crept in. I am Karen, hear me roar.

Maybe there is nothing wrong with being a Karen? It has taken us Karens a lot of hard-lived experience to get where we are, and the right to assertiveness has had to be learnt and earned. Shouting “Karen” is starting to look like just another way to disregard women’s thoughts and needs.

So here’s one case study to restore a bit of dignity to my maligned name: Karen Blixen, the Danish writer whose thrilling life is the subject of the film Out of Africa. As she prepares to depart for Kenya, Blixen, played by Meryl Streep, says an emotional farewell to her Somali butler Farah (Malick Bowens). “I want to hear you say my name,” she tells him. He has only ever called her the respectful “Msabu”.

“You are Karen,” he replies, with tears in his eyes — and he doesn’t add: “And you want to see the manager.”

The Sunday Times

The late Karen Blixen at her Rungstedlund home.