The Price of Elusiveness: Carolyn Bessette in "Love Story"

"Love Story" has sparked a resurgence of all things "90s NYC," along with a particular love of Bessette's iconic fashion sense and "it girl" persona. This infatuation is made apparent throughout the show, as her care-free attitude dazzles even the most orthodox of Kennedys. But what is it about Bessette that has captivated so many audiences? The uncomfortable answer lies in the plastic version of her that we have created. 

Bessette's confidence is evident from the first episode as she diligently climbs her way up the ranks of Calvin Klein, from sales assistant to director to confidant of Calvin himself. In many ways, she makes her work a core aspect of her personality– so much so that at times it feels like an avenue for avoiding vulnerability. But that defense mechanism seems to be the very reason we are all so obsessed with her; her ambivalence allows us to project an imagined version of her, one that has little to do with her actual self and more to do with who we, as a society, want her to be. 

John F. Kennedy Jr. is a core example of this. In the beginning of their relationship, he chases after her relentlessly, showering her with public displays of affection and gifts in order to garner her attention. He loves the fact that she is "unattainable" and mysterious — that she never reveals her true desires, opinions or flaws. This ambiguity contributes to her ultimate "cool girl" persona: she never sets boundaries, becomes "inconvenient," or explicitly expresses when things affect her. 

After her marriage to Kennedy Jr., however, Bessette's entire way of life changes. She stops working, she moves into his apartment and is relentlessly harassed by the press. Her husband, however, makes no compromises; his life, job and world stay completely the same, absorbing her without giving anything back.

As the pressures of becoming a Kennedy take their toll, the carefree mask she worked so tirelessly to curate begins to slip. There is a moment in Episode 9, just two years after their union, when Carolyn finally breaks, begging him to see her for her authentic self and not just the wife he wants her to be. In this moment, you can watch her husband lose his infatuation with her in real time. 

Kennedy Jr.'s view of Bessette represents a larger issue in our society today. Just as she did, people — especially women — are pushed to dilute their true selves in order to remain more pleasant and "easy to love." In that regard, we have more in common with Kennedy Jr. than we might think. We exist in a culture that rewards the woman who is malleable, never speaks her mind and remains silent in the face of adversity; that silence is exactly what makes Bessette so compelling– it enforces her role as a "blank canvas" that can be transformed in any way we desire.

Women with similar fates as Bessette, such as Princess Diana, who died early in their lives, have a legacy that achieves this "canvas" in a unique way: The world never got to see who they really were; it only saw a curated version that was perfect to the public eye. This is precisely the reason we view them as so distinctively "iconic" in a way that living women rarely get to be. Their legacies will forever be based on common perception rather than the human beings they actually were. 

The irony is that "Love Story" is the perfect example of this projection of Bessette– a highly dramatized depiction of her life, promoting a storyline to an audience. It is important to remember that although the series is an entertaining watch, the characters represent real people who once had lives of their own.

There is an absence of Bessette's voice in this portrait of her life, and although it is tempting to imagine her ambitions, none of us can ever truly know her feelings and aspirations. Perhaps that version of her — not the icon, not the canvas, not the Kennedy wife — is the only version worth mourning.