Like many others, I am an avid fan of Salley Rooney’s globally acclaimed Normal People. The show is inevitably loveable, with its relatable characters in the charming backdrop of Trinity College Dublin. Undoubtedly, much of the discourse surrounding the show is predominantly concerned with its similarities to the ‘situationship’ epidemic many find themselves in today. Or perhaps it’s an adoration of a relationship that begins in the innocence of adolescence and continues through to the harshities of adulthood. Yet, amidst popular culture’s fixation on the elements of the show mirroring our own experiences, many of its deeper intricacies are often overlooked.
One of these intricacies is simply the very clothes Rooney’s characters are wearing. Undeniably, the entirety of the show plots a linear map of change – in feelings, circumstances, and relationships. Take, for example, Marianne’s famous remark: “I know, classic me, came to college and got pretty.” Yet, her appearance isn’t the only thing that changes. Marianne’s style evolution serves as a visual narrative of her internal growth and transformation, a visual map for her own journey of self-discovery. More importantly, it becomes an expression of her inner self that was previously repressed in school.
The first half of the show is set in Sligo and explores the hardships endured by Marianne who never quite assimilates to those around her. As a result, she is stifled by her peers. Her physical style evokes this, even if this version of herself is unrecognisable by the end of the show. In school, her uniform is noticeably more conservative than the other girls around her. Whereas many of the girls in schools had rolled their skirts, hers is draped at her ankles. Although probably more in line with school policy, her outfit defines her as someone who is ‘other.’ Outside of school, her hair is often tousled in a messy bun atop her head or braided neatly down her neck, stylistic choices that seem more functional than expressive as she refuses to be seen by unwanted eyes. Such choices frame her outfits as a shield – a subtle defence as she hides herself from a world unwillingly to see her.
Nevertheless, in the very outset of the show, as she shares her first kiss with Connell, her attire is revealing in her own vulnerabilities. She is dressed in a bell sleeved, lilac knitted jumper that hangs lowly at her back, exposing a racerback bralette in baby blue. Alongside it, a pair of slim fitting jeans, a staple of her early wardrobe. The baggy silhouette of her jumper reflects an unassuming reluctance to be fully seen, whilst the bralette evokes an almost accidental display of femininity and sensuality. In episode 2, we see a variation of this outfit, a navy knitted jumper replaces the previous lilac one and, instead of a bralette, a red t-shirt that timidly peeks out from under. Though the colour play differs, the slim fitting jeans remain, cuffed just above the ankle to reveal the full height of her high top shoes. Marianne’s style is simplistic and subtle, a visual manifestation of her own internal struggles. Ultimately, her style reflects the uncertain spirit of her adolescence and narrates a story of self-protection, a yearning to remain unnoticed by a society that fails to understand her.
Marianne’s move to Trinity College Dublin in episode four sees an almost instantaneous switch in her wardrobe as she begins to be understood by those around her, or stops caring if they do. The world of repetitive block colours that characterises her earlier style gives way to darker and earthier tones and rich velvet textures. Additionally, her cycle of jeans and jumpers is replaced with blouses, skirts or dresses paired with tights. We first see this rationalisation of Marianne she (re)meets, “Connell Waldron, from beyond the grave.” Standing amongst her friends, cigarette in hand, Marianne asserts a new kind of confidence and self-assuredness. This is also reflected when we see, for the first time, her experiment with makeup. Unlike early episodes where she appeared bare faced or with natural touches, in this episode (set at a college party) Marianne sports a smokey eyeshadow look. Dark and dusky hues frame her eyes as she invites attention not only to her outfit but her face in a way that feels both bold and new. The attention brought to her eyes exposes her emotions, as she fails to conceal years of regret and vulnerability. Despite the emotions she has tried to mask beneath deep and complex layers of change, it has a contrary effect, as all her emotions are on display.
Her hair, once almost always neatly tied back, now falls at her shoulders in messy waves. Such aesthetic choices embrace the eyes of others, including Connell, even if it means exposing her internal vulnerabilities and repressing anger from her school days. Beneath her hair, large gold hoops, complimenting her smokey eye, peek out from under. All amongst this, she wears a white blouse with ruffled sleeves that carries a delicate sense of sophistication that contrasts with the dramatic statement of her eyeshadow. On top of it, a green patterned necktie is loosely tied around her neck, hints at a playful and deliberate rebellion against the previously controlled and simplistic image she once upheld.
Or take, for example, her iconic black dress worn in Italy in episode eight. The dress is simple yet flattering, with a neckline that subtly reveals and highlights her collarbone. Despite its inherent formality, Marianne pairs the dress with sneakers, grounding the look in casual wear as a nod to her past minimalist and functional style. However, this take on simplicity feels bolder and more daring. The dress’s silhouette effortlessly hugs her waist, then flares out, adding a playful, flattering element. While Marianne’s later outfits are still often ‘simple,’ they are infused with a maturity and boldness that earlier outfits weren’t granted.
From start to finish, Marianne’s style is an internalisation of the self and a testament to her own personal growth. Transitioning from muted tones and simple silhouettes to the eccentric and expressive looks of her time in university, her wardrobe acts as a visual narration of her own path of self-acceptance. In capturing such nuances, Normal People serve as a reminder that our external presentation of the self mirrors the way we feel within.