Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy died in a plane crash off the coast of Martha’s Vineyard with her husband, John F. Kennedy Jr., and sister, Lauren Bessette, on July 16, 1999. I was 20 years old, which means I was a teenager in the mid-90s as Bessette-Kennedy became a reluctant beauty icon. Her style was seemingly effortless, undeniably enviable, and so unattainable that I—someone whose entire wardrobe came from the Delia’s catalog—felt it pointless to pay it much mind.
But others understandably celebrated her style, and that celebration only intensified after her sudden, horrific death at 33. It was cyclical. Every few years, I’d watch magazines and digital articles re-up interest in her style with shoppable tributes, often based on the designers and brands she was confirmed to have worn: Levi’s 517s, a camel-colored Prada coat, Abdul Kareem Egyptian Musk.
With the launch of Ryan Murphy’s new biographical show, Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette, interest in Bessette-Kennedy has skyrocketed like never before, and the current hunger to recreate her minimalist, anti-trend style has taken on new proportions. No longer is it just about reporting on or referencing the designers and colors and silhouettes that she favored. In recent weeks, brands that didn’t even exist in 1999 are diluting this complex, intelligent woman—who, lest we forget, died tragically—into a tool to sell their stuff without her consent.
Photo: Getty Images
Since the show’s premiere earlier this month, beauty editors like myself have been inundated with increasingly tone-deaf email pitches about Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s look—to the point that some editors say they’ve gotten dozens over the course of this week. “Channel your inner CBK,” reads one email I received recently about headbands. “The Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy lip is back!” declares another, pitching a lip oil that will help you achieve a “sheen that feels refined and unfussy, just like Carolyn.” Another pitch says her hair color “was the kind of blonde that whispers luxury, rather than shouting for attention—and you can now recreate it with [brand name redacted]!” (The exclamation mark really got me.) And the one that truly sums up what’s making me scowl: a subject line that reads, “Carolyn Bessette Would Have Loved These Skincare Products.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised that the commodification of Carolyn has spread beyond the inbox and into consumer-facing social media content. Kim Kardashian playfully posed in a blonde wig that her colorist deemed “The Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy Blonde” in the caption (even if that’s not entirely accurate). At least they didn’t use the hashtag #BessetteBlonde, like Schwarzkopf did in an Instagram post about a highlighting technique the brand called “foiled cashmere, inspired by Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy.” (Imagine losing a friend and, years later, seeing their name used for a cutesy, alliterative hashtag to promote a salon service.)
