I ONCE came across a cartoon of a plump, formidable-looking woman, sleeves rolled up, wearing an apron and with her hair in curlers. She was standing, hands on hips, in front of a man half her size who looked terrified. The caption read something like ‘Edna was an expert in power dressing.’

Power dressing has been around for a long time. In the 1980s it was taken to extremes, with exaggerated shoulders, loud colours and big hair. Sigourney Weaver and Melanie Griffith are perfect examples, in the film Working Girl, with upper torsos like American footballers. Here in Britain, Margaret Thatcher’s sharply tailored suits, bouffant hair and trademark handbags had power dressing stamped all over them.

The phenomenon receded into the background for many years, but now it’s back with a vengeance, with the phrase being applied regularly to well-tailored Theresa May, who currently appears in US Vogue, Hillary Clinton’s bold-coloured trouser suits and Nicola Sturgeon, whose much cited recipe for power-dressing includes made-to-measure jackets with gold buttons, immaculately coiffured hair and killer heels.

I had hoped the days when women needed to dress like this to establish their authority had long gone. It doesn’t always work anyway. Not everyone suits Thatcher-style jackets with pencil skirts. If I dressed like that I’d look like Miss Trunchbull from Matilda.

Some of us will never exude power no matter what we wear. Long ago, in the 1980s and early 1990s I wore a suit to work. In one job I even had a clothing allowance for attending conferences. Coupled with a shirt and high heels, I always felt awkward and uncomfortable. And I wielded as much power as a gnat.

But, now, this is yet again the look go-getting women seem to crave - just about every female contestant on The Apprentice wears Thatcher-style suit jackets with pencil skirts. Striding in unison, they really do look intimidating.

Donald Trump would love them - apparently the US president believes his staff should “have a certain look” and aspire to “be sharply dressed”.

Of course, women don’t have to dress like this to exert power. I know a few terrifying female battleaxes outside of the workplace, who slob around in sloppy jumpers and tracksuit bottoms exuding ferocity.

But, in the office, clothing tends to give people clout. My choice of attire - calf-length skirts, woolly tights cardigans and flat shoes or boots - correctly places me well down the pecking order.

If I was suddenly summoned to a high-powered business meeting I might swap the cardi for a jacket, but the rest would stay. Yet The Huffington Post’s ‘Power dressing tips for women; advises: ‘If in doubt, keep the skirt length just above the knee.’

The rules of power dressing - and there are many - take no account whatsoever of a woman’s body shape. I haven’t worn a skirt above the knee for decades and unless pressured at gunpoint I probably never will again.

Of course, some companies go in an entirely opposite direction. My clothing would probably be seen as overly smart if I worked at Google, Twitter or Facebook, where employees are encouraged to wear casual clothes - jeans and T-shirts. Power dressing isn’t part of their ethos.

Trends come and go, and in the latest frenzy of power dressing it would not surprise me to see boxy jackets and shoulder pads back in the boardroom. I’ve got the big hair to go with them, so if there’s a chance of promotion in the offing, I may force myself to wear one.

MORE FROM HELEN MEAD