Love, street style and death: why we are obsessed with Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette Decoding the mystery behind the most photographed couple of the 1990s
You may not know them by name, but you have certainly seen them. They are John F. Kennedy Jr., son of JFK and Jackie Onassis, and his wife Carolyn Bassette: he tall and lanky, often immortalized in an impeccably cut suit and a pair of sunglasses, just as often photographed in casual outfits that are a perfect vocabulary of Ivy League brand preppy; she blond, sophisticated and always effortlessly elegant, perhaps the best avatar of New York chic and '90s minimalism. The Kennedy Jr.-Bassette couple is not only a pair of socialites with what is perhaps the best wardrobe since Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg, but also a pair of tragic figures, who saw the end of their days prematurely, off the island of Martha's Vineyard, during a plane crash shrouded in mystery and about which numerous conspiracy theories have accumulated over the years.
Similarly, years earlier, Lady Diana had left a lasting impression on the public imagination by being photographed in a gym outfit holding a Gucci handbag - and it was to Lady D. that Carolyn was compared in both life and death. In any case, if Lady D.'s story had the overtones of tragedy, it was due to her membership in the British royal family nor are there any consistent "candid" street styles of her, Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy-Bessette were perhaps among the first celebrities to be known essentially for their personal style and to manifest themselves in the collective pop consciousness through photos taken on the street and not on the set. It could safely be said that street style became the main medium of their fame considering how Carolyn herself actively avoided interviews, press meetings, photoshoots, and any form of self-promotion-to this day there are only two clips in which her voice can be heard, and all we have left of her are the photos paparazzi took of her on the street as well as the clothes and bags she gave away before her death to people close to her. Both Carolyn and her husband John were icons of an era in transit: the modern children of an old world, who preferred the then more popular Tribeca to the aristocratic salons of Fifth Avenue, who preferred the bicycle to the chauffeur, who tried to live as private citizens when there was nothing more public than their own lives.
The charm of strangers
Given the fascination that the Kennedys-Bessettes hold over the collective imagination two decades and more after their deaths, it is strange to think that the two cultivated so much privacy. Today we know even the eating habits of our celebrity couples, and things have reached the point where The Cut has implored Megan Fox and Machine Gun Kelly to stop sharing on social media the bizarre details of their private lives that no one needs to know. In this sense, Carolyn and John are the quintessential anti-celebrity couple - a vibe that can already be felt in their photos together. In a world where personal style no longer exists, stifled by the asphyxiating rules of the total look, the dogma of sponsored seeding and engineered outfits, their spontaneous and strangely "normal" outfit choices, without off-the-wall colors, hair dyes, tattoos and bizarre piercings, blatantly gifted luxury products and publicity stunts (such as shopping in underwear, wearing Marilyn Monroe's clothes for random reasons, drinking their partner's blood or buying the house across the street from their ex-wife's), seem to carry an authenticity that has been irretrievably lost. If today's celebrities have to jump through hoops to be seen, to be talked about, Carolyn and John wanted to disappear, to be free of the monumental shadow of the Kennedy family tree, to lead a life of pleasure but free of the spotlight, for better or worse.
Perhaps, then, the attraction we feel toward Carolyn and John is the fascination of strangers, of two mysterious figures walking down the street embraced without bothering anyone, of two people who live their lives under the flashes of photographers without wanting to turn it into a pointless three-ring circus. The reason why we still follow those two with our eyes along their walks is precisely because at their feet there are no red carpets, behind them there are no stylists, and in front of them there are no journalists pressing them with tendentious questions. There are only two people - dressed extremely well.
