From catwalks to red carpets, blogs to magazines, there is one issue causing more of a hoo-ha than any other in fashion circles right now: the return of the 1980s-style shoulder pad. For reasons best known to themselves (the economy, Ukrainian politics or as a practical joke, perhaps?), designers have decided that power dressing and its signature accessory are back. As seen this spring at Margiela, at Vuitton and, most markedly, at Balmain, via Gwyneth Paltrow, Lady Gaga and Jennifer Connelly, and soon to be trotted out by Balenciaga, Stella McCartney and Marc Jacobs (right) — to name but a very few on the big S-pad bandwagon hurtling our way this autumn — shoulders are once again doing the talking. But are we ready for a rerun?

Think of big shoulders and you think of the girls from Dynasty and their diamonds, or the St Elmos and their fire. You think of Melanie Griffith trumping Sigourney Weaver. Of Joan Collins, Bonnie Tyler, Tina Turner and Diana Ross. Aside from a slight hiccup involving Michael Flatley, you don’t generally think of a bunch of wets. And the reincarnated version being offered up today is no less uncompromising than its flouncy forebears — in fact, it’s even more so. Today’s S-pad look is more Thunderbirds than T’Pau, all pointy tips and nipped-in waists (see Lady Gaga’s “pop to the shops” outfits for some of the more extreme examples out there). But the question is, for all its kick-ass connotations, what does a power shoulder actually make you look like these days? In the 1980s women wore them as an office uniform before returning home to kick off their courts and relax to the sounds of Sade. How now to pull them off? Is the overall effect to be had here one of powerhouse or plonker?

According to Joanna Jeffreys of Harvey Nichols (one of several retailers to have sold out of their extreme-shouldered Balmain jackets), “it’s all about making sure you don’t look too photo-shoot. Put on a white T-shirt, jeans, your Balmain jacket, and then channel your inner Krystle Carrington”. Okay, simple enough. Trying on a bit of said Balmain for size (specifically a white blazer, worn with skin-tight jeans and the highest heels I own), I felt its transformative effects immediately, and specifically at my waist: if your shoulders loom large, the rest of your body looks smaller. Fact.

“The Shoulders” also make you stick out. If you’re going to attempt them, you need to prepare yourself for some stares. Arriving at a fashion bash, I was the B-side to my Balmain. The Shoulders walked in before me. Literally. “Oooh, is that a bit of Balmain on our table?” said Henry Holland, before coming over for a squeeze of my new Krystles. “They’re quite phallic, aren’t they? I’m getting turned on.” For cocktails at Brown’s Hotel, they were also a success.

It does weigh in at £3,818, however, and shed more sparkles than I drank wines, but the stares it attracted were not entirely mocking — until I was spotted ricocheting off the doorway on my way to the loo (spatial-awareness issues arise when you mess with your shoulder dimensions). Similarly, heading over to the Portobello Road for a photo shoot, I stuck out among the mums and market traders. Their stares would normally make me feel as naked as Sienna’s boobies, but with the power of The Shoulders on my side, I didn’t seem to care. If fashion is armour, then I felt fit for full-on Samurai warfare. People moved out my way. I felt in control (apart from when I knocked a woman’s cappuccino down her front).

Working a statement shoulder isn’t an entirely obstacle-free experience. My attempts at casual wear weren’t successful, “downtime power-shoulder” being something of an oxymoron. An Acne sweatshirt set my confidence back a bit, making the top of my body look much wider than it really is, giving the general impression of a baked potato. Those around me agreed, “Urgh” and “Game on!” being some general comments. Sheer fabrics and pads also don’t mix, pad lines being the upper-body equivalent of VPL: not done.

People’s reactions to the look are vehement and mixed. Roksanda Ilincic loves them (“I’ve always been a fan of a shoulder”), but her husband doesn’t (“A bit weird”). My friend Bee, an artist who lives in Brighton, with a rather inclusive approach to fashion, was, surprisingly, not at all down with my new look. Greeting me in the pub, she screamed: “What have you done? You look like you’ve got growths?” And, if our fellow drinkers’ snorts were anything to go by, she wasn’t the only one wondering. But somehow, in The Shoulders, none of that really mattered. Because this is about dressing for yourself, big time. It is unapologetic fashion that doesn’t seek approval. Shoulder pads are the sartorial equivalent of the power ballad — uplifting, life-affirming, singing-in-the-shower-style confidence-giving, and totally and utterly designed for a female audience. So, screw the dissenters, frankly.

And what have I learnt from my week in The Shoulders? First up, that if you’re going to attempt them, you have to go the whole hog. Pretending that you’re not busting a full-on fashion look is a waste of time. I’ve learnt that power-dressing-up does work, in that it makes you feel powerful. I’ve learnt that boys don’t like them, and that I don’t care. And I know now that, in them, you take no prisoners and make no apologies. Not even when you spill someone else’s coffee.

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