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All rise

To celebrate great British women, we ask the leading lights of stage and screen to get under the skin of our most iconic queens

We often talk about British style — the freedom, the irreverence, the originality that flies in the face of what is proper and practical. Rarely, however, do we dwell on the characteristics of British women themselves, or bother to analyse why you would rather be stuck in a lift with a load of us than any other group on the planet.

Boadicea, who led an uprising against the Roman empire, had guts and refused to accept the status quo — something British women have embedded in their DNA. That and a certain feistiness. From the suffragettes to the ladies of Greenham Common, we have never been shy of standing up for a principle, even if it requires some highly unfeminine behaviour. An anarchic streak and a burning desire to break the mould are all characteristics we associate with modern British women such as Tilda Swinton (weird in any other country, normal here), Isabella Blow, Vivienne Westwood and Florence Welch. Put any one of them in a breastplate, armed with a sword, and they would look perfectly at home.

Elizabeth I, of course, didn’t defer to any male and laid to rest for ever the assumption that ours is the weaker sex. We might have had to toe the line over the years, but there is a bolshiness about your average British girl — a refusal quietly, prettily to conform — bubbling under the surface that is pure Elizabeth.

You see it in Jane Austen’s heroine Elizabeth Bennet, in Twiggy, Margaret Thatcher, the Spice Girls and Adele. Even those St Trinian’s schoolgirls are a celebration of an attitude peculiar to Britain — modest, compliant femininity has never really caught on here. It’s just not in our nature to trot around looking neat and acting demure (okay, there is Kate Middleton, but that’s a necessary compromise, and we know she can wield a rifle and down a crack baby with the best of them). British girls are determined to be allowed to do what they want. The ladette culture of the 1990s may have gone a bit wrong, but its heart started in the right place — giving vent to the raw energy and spirit that make our women the booziest and most pregnancy-prone (bad), but also the most creative, liberated and fun. Now it’s come full circle, and Jessie J is the teetotal, superfocused carrier of the ladette flame.

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This is not the whole story, though. There is a different kind of great British woman, whose cool-headedness, aloofness and inscrutability inspire awe in the rest of the world. An icy exterior and an aversion to self-absorption is Queen Victoria’s legacy — something we used to mock, but now, in these emotionally incontinent times, find refreshing and admirable. Watching Anna Wintour in The September Issue, a queen in her own world of American Vogue, you can see it all — the driving work ethic, the emphasis on self-discipline (who can forget her drily suggesting that the cameraman should lose his paunch) and the passion and dedication. There are many like Wintour who live by Victoria’s code — keep calm, be strong and do your best without complaint. Her legacy is alive and well in the example of Claire Lomas, who completed the London marathon despite being paralysed, and it’s the philosophy that inspires our current queen.

Diana’s influence altered for ever our perception of what makes a British woman great: there was no wariness there, no eccentricity, or sparkling wit, not even much of a stiff upper lip. Her contribution to our psyche is the message that you can be glamorous and wholesome, fabulous and a normal needy, vulnerable female. She made a virtue of one of our great strengths: the ability to be grand and down to earth, all in the space of a day — something we genuinely excel at. When Kate Winslet emerged from Richard Branson’s burning house on Necker Island with his mother cradled in her arms, your first thought was not “Oooh blimey, a Hollywood A-list actress, that’s a shock”, but “Yup, normal. She’s not French”. We may be complicated and demanding at times, but we happen to be the least precious women out there (with the possible exception of the Australians and New Zealanders — and they are us in a more demanding environment). Our queens would be proud of us.