There’s something about Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy that makes people lose their minds. Maybe it’s the striking blonde hair, maybe it’s the effortlessly iconic red lip, or maybe it’s the fact that she made minimalism feel like a personality instead of a lack of one. Whatever it is, she’s back in the cultural conversation, thanks in part to Ryan Murphy’s latest series, Love Story, which dives into the lives of her and John F. Kennedy Jr.
And like clockwork, the internet has decided: we all either want her or want to be her.
But here’s the thing, respectfully, lovingly; we can’t all be Carolyn Bessette.
Let’s start with why she matters. Before she was a tabloid fixation or half of an American royal couple, Carolyn worked as a fashion publicist for Calvin Klein. She understood fashion as an intentional, timeless artform. Clean lines, neutral palettes, tailoring that was for the individual, not the masses. She wasn’t dressing for trends; she was dressing for herself, and that’s exactly why people couldn’t look away.
So naturally, Gen Z has suddenly “discovered” her.
Now suddenly, everyone is in a black midi skirt. Everyone owns a pair of tortoise shell sunglasses or headbands from that not-so-secret pharmacy in Greenwich Village. Everyone is chasing the CBK look, as if it’s something you can add to the cart. Minimalism has been repackaged as a microtrend. Ironically, the exact opposite of what made her style so compelling in the first place.
Because here’s the truth no one really wants to say: Carolyn’s style only worked because it was hers.
It reflected her personality; controlled but not cold, polished but not performative. There was an ease to it that couldn’t be manufactured, because it came from knowing exactly who she was. You can copy the outfit, for sure. But you can’t copy the intention behind it. And without that, it’s just…clothes.
This is where we all get a little lost.
We think if we dress like someone who seems confident, we’ll become confident. If we mirror the aesthetic, maybe we’ll inherit the energy. But fashion doesn’t really work like that. You can’t outsource your identity to a capsule wardrobe.
And honestly? You wouldn’t want to.
Because the whole point of style, the real, lasting kind, is that it evolves out of you. Your habits, your mood, your contradictions. The pieces you reach for when you’re not thinking too hard. The outfit you wear when you want to feel like yourself again.
Carolyn didn’t wake up and chose to be an icon. She just knew who she was.
So instead of trying to become her, maybe the better question is: what does your version of that look like?
Maybe you love color. Maybe you hate neutrals. Maybe your version of “put together” includes sneakers that are a little beat up and jewelry you never take off. Maybe your closet makes no sense to anyone else and doesn’t perfectly align with a Pinterest aesthetic.
When you’re wearing something that reflects you, there’s an originality that appears. You stop adjusting, second-guessing, and comparing. You just live in it. That’s the energy that made people mesmerized by Carolyn; not just the slip dress, but the way she wore it like it belonged on her.
So yes, watch Love Story. Obsess over the outfits. Screenshot the looks. Appreciate the legacy.
But don’t mistake inspiration for instruction.
We can admire Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy all we want, but trying to replicate her entirely misses the point she made so effortlessly: the best style is the one that no one else can copy. Including hers.