Slay, Bestie, Oh No: The Established British Stars Who Crashed TikTok and Never Quite Recovered Their Dignity
TikTok is a young person's game. This is not a controversial statement. It is not ageist. It is simply the observable reality of a platform built on fifteen-second attention spans, audio trends that peak and expire within a fortnight, and an algorithm so finely tuned to the preferences of Generation Z that it can detect the faint whiff of a millennial attempting to be relatable from approximately three thousand miles away.
And yet. And yet, British celebrities — established, beloved, in several cases awarded with actual OBEs — continue to hurl themselves at TikTok with the energy of a golden retriever attempting to catch a frisbee it has fundamentally misunderstood. The results are, without exception, spectacular.
The Dance Trend, Executed Slightly Too Late
Let us begin with the dance trend, because it is the most universal crime and the most generously documented. Every few weeks, TikTok produces a new choreography — typically involving a specific arm movement, a particular head tilt, and a sound bite that will be stuck in your head for the remainder of the calendar year. The trend burns bright for approximately ten days, reaches its saturation point, and is then retired to the archive of things teenagers no longer acknowledge.
It is at precisely this moment — the post-retirement window, the cultural equivalent of showing up to a party that ended three hours ago and asking if anyone wants to do shots — that British celebrities tend to post their version.
The formula is always the same. The celebrity stands in what appears to be their kitchen (often in a very nice kitchen, to be fair). They have clearly watched the original video. They have attempted the choreography. Something in the execution is slightly off — a beat behind, a hand gesture that doesn't quite resolve, the energy of someone who has rehearsed in a mirror but not with a mirror that can judge them. The caption invariably includes the phrase 'ok I tried' and several laughing emojis, which is doing a lot of heavy lifting.
The comment section, if they're lucky, is kind. If they're less lucky, the top comment is from a sixteen-year-old who has simply typed 'this was 2 months ago' and received forty-seven thousand likes.
The Slang Situation
If the late dance trend is the most forgivable TikTok crime, the confident misuse of current slang is considerably less so. Because at least with the dance, there is physical evidence of effort. With the slang, there is only the cold, bright light of language used incorrectly by someone who has clearly googled 'what do the kids say now' and implemented the results without sufficient field testing.
British celebrities have, over the past few years, subjected us to some extraordinary examples. The TV presenter who described their new series as 'lowkey bussin'' in a context that suggested they understood neither word. The pop star who told their followers something was 'giving main character energy' about a product placement for a yoghurt drink. The actor — Oscar-nominated, widely respected — who signed off a video with 'no cap, bestie' in a tone that suggested they had only recently been informed that caps were, in some circumstances, not present.
The teenagers, to their credit, do not mock viciously. They simply do not engage. The silence of a TikTok video with 847 views and three comments — all from the celebrity's existing fanbase, all saying 'you're so funny!' — is its own form of eloquent critique.
The 'Relatable' Content Trap
There is a specific genre of celebrity TikTok that deserves its own taxonomy: the Relatable Moment. This is the video in which a famous person attempts to demonstrate that they, too, experience the mundane frustrations of ordinary life. They burnt their toast! They couldn't find their keys! They also find Mondays difficult!
The problem — and it is a structural problem that no amount of self-awareness can fully resolve — is that the Relatable Moment almost always undermines itself through context. The burnt toast is in a kitchen with a La Cornue range cooker. The lost keys are eventually found in the bowl near the front door of a house that has clearly been photographed for Architectural Digest. The Monday morning struggle is filmed in what is obviously a hotel suite.
Several prominent British celebrities have stumbled directly into this trap, posting content designed to make them seem approachable and achieving instead a peculiar inversion: a reminder of the exact distance between their life and yours, presented cheerfully and with a trending audio track.
One particularly memorable example involved a well-known British actress complaining, on camera, about the difficulty of choosing between two outfits for an event — both of which were, as the comments quickly established, worth more than most people's monthly rent. The caption said 'literally me every morning lol.' The comments said other things.
The Duet That Wasn't
TikTok's duet feature — which allows users to post their video alongside someone else's — has produced some remarkable moments of cross-generational collision. When an established British celebrity attempts to duet with a trending creator, the results can be either charming or catastrophic, with very little middle ground.
The charming version involves genuine humility, a willingness to be laughed at, and the good grace to let the younger creator be funnier. The catastrophic version involves a celebrity who has clearly been briefed on the duet format but not on the specific cultural register of the creator they're duetting with, resulting in a video that feels like a teacher attempting to join a playground game and immediately making everyone stand very still.
Several British TV personalities have ventured into this territory, and the comment sections of those videos contain a specific kind of response that is almost more devastating than outright mockery: the polite, slightly confused 'aww' from a teenager who is being kind because they can tell an adult is trying.
The Fashion Angle: When Style Icons Become Style Warnings
For those who built their public profile on fashion credibility — the stylists-to-the-stars, the front-row regulars, the celebrities whose outfits generated genuine column inches — the TikTok fashion video presents a particular kind of existential risk. Because TikTok fashion moves at a pace that makes the traditional fashion cycle look positively glacial, and what reads as current on a glossy Instagram grid can read as bewilderingly dated in a vertical video with a trending sound.
The 'get ready with me' format — in which creators film themselves getting dressed and made up, usually while narrating — has exposed several British style icons to the uncomfortable reality that their aesthetic, lovingly curated over years, translates on TikTok as either 'mum at a wedding' or 'person who has not yet discovered that skinny jeans are over.' Neither is the intended effect.
To their credit, some have adapted. Others have doubled down, which is a choice, and one that TikTok's algorithm has quietly punished with the particular cruelty of simply showing their videos to fewer and fewer people until they are essentially posting into a void.
The Dignity Recovery Programme
Here is the thing, though — and we say this with genuine affection — the celebrities who handle TikTok failure with grace tend to come out of it rather well. The ones who post the cringeworthy video and then, when it is pointed out that the trend died in March, simply reply 'I am aware, I am fine, thank you' and carry on with their lives are, ultimately, more endearing than those who got it right.
TikTok rewards authenticity, which is an irony so thick you could spread it on toast in a La Cornue range cooker. The celebrities who are genuinely, uncomplicatedly themselves — even when that self is a bit late to the party, a bit uncertain about the choreography, and using 'bussin'' in a context that isn't quite right — tend to find their audience eventually.
It just might not be the audience they were expecting. And it will almost certainly be watching them for slightly different reasons than intended.