The Allure of Carolyn Bessette Kennedy

It is not so much her clothes as her confidence.

It’s the thought that kept coming back to me after watching the first episode of FX/Hulu’s Love Story, which traces the relationship between Carolyn Bessette Kennedy, played by Sarah Pidgeon, and John F. Kennedy Jr., played by Paul Anthony Kelly, from the onset of their love in 1992 to the 1999 plane crash that claimed their lives.

The series, which premiered its first of nine episodes on February 12, is produced by Ryan Murphy and created by Connor Hines. It draws heavily from Elizabeth Beller’s 2024 book Once Upon a Time: The Captivating Life of Carolyn Bessette Kennedy.

What struck me most about it was not simply the revival of interest in the striking couple, or even the portrayal of the impossibly handsome Kennedy, but the renewed fixation on Carolyn herself and on the spare, minimalist ’90s style she helped define.

Go on any social media platform right now, and you’ll see what I mean. It’s video after video of creators showing their audiences how to achieve the “CBK look.” Like those infomercials that promise a cream will transform your skin: call 1-800-’90s-Carolyn and, in just a few short steps, you too will have unfettered confidence.

Carolyn herself remains something of an enigma, which is part of her allure. Because she is no longer here to shape the narrative, what viewers encounter in Love Story, then, is less a definitive portrait than an interpretation — Sarah Pidgeon’s version of her. Still, the performance has revived a conversation about the appeal of self-assurance and the possibility of becoming the author of one’s own life.

In the series, Pidgeon does this in small gestures: arriving at events uninvited, moving through rooms as though she naturally belongs there, brushing a hand through her hair with enviable nonchalance.

Sure, she has impeccable style, but these moments are not about fashion so much as presence — the quiet assumption that she has every right to occupy the space she’s in.

There are sharper moments, too: slipping into a cab outside a nightclub and allowing a man to chase her, or refusing to let a tardy date off easily — even if that date happens to be Kennedy, once dubbed “The Sexiest Man Alive.”

In her first meeting with Kennedy, as shown on the show, the pair is introduced at a Calvin Klein event where Carolyn works as a publicist, by Calvin himself (Alessandro Nivola). When he asks how to get a hold of her, she doesn’t jump to give him her number; instead, she opines with “You know where I work,” while walking away, allowing his gaze to follow her out of the room.

She plays it so cool while face-to-face with the arresting Kennedy that you begin to wonder if she may swing the other way.

Yet as the series unfolds, it becomes clear that her refusal has little to do with him; what it reveals is that she wields power in nearly every interaction.

Including those with the press. In one scene, John pleads with her to leave his Tribeca apartment with him — where paparazzi lurk outside like vultures — but she declines and instructs him to go first. Once they have chased him, she steps out and glides her glasses onto her face, wearing the sly smile of someone savoring a small victory.

A few episodes later, when Kennedy finally gets down on one knee, Carolyn does not give him the resounding yes he hopes for. As Calvin Klein’s wife, Kelly Klein (Leila George), puts it, accepting right away would mean that Carolyn would lose the individual identity she’s worked so hard to build. As we know, they eventually do tie the knot, but when Carolyn accepts, it’s on her own terms.

And when it comes to the wedding, she doesn’t allow herself to be swayed, telling John and her future sister-in-law, Caroline Kennedy (Grace Gummer), that she doesn’t want a big Kennedy wedding. So, they don’t have a “big Kennedy wedding.”

Instead, they marry in a small church on Cumberland Island, Georgia, surrounded by their closest friends and family. Carolyn in an unassuming silk slip dress made by her friend Narciso Rodriguez (Tonatiuh) — a dress she initially can’t get on, leaving her two hours late to her own wedding.

As Carolyn waits for Rodriguez to reconstruct the dress, she is shown lounging in a bathtub, wearing glasses and smoking a cigarette, completely unfazed that her dress doesn’t fit and that they’re losing daylight with every passing minute — a situation that for most brides would qualify as a catastrophe. For Carolyn, it barely registers. She’s cool as a cucumber.

She’s so chill, in fact, that you start to question whether people like that actually exist.

In watching Pidgeon’s portrayal, I’m reminded of Joan Didion’s 1961 Vogue essay, “Self-Respect,” in which she explores the idea that true self-respect comes not from others’ approval but from accepting responsibility for one’s own choices and living with their consequences.

“Self-respect,” she writes, “is a discipline, a habit of mind that can never be faked but can be developed, trained, coaxed forth.”

In Pidgeon’s hands, Carolyn seems to possess precisely that quality.

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Love Story releases weekly episodes on Hulu on Thursdays at 9 p.m. or on FX at 9 p.m. ET/PT.