Jackie Kennedy always intrigued me. When I was young, the First Lady’s every appearance and utterance guaranteed acres of coverage in newspapers and magazines.
After JFK’s assassination, the tragic young widow had an even greater allure.
Then she married one of the richest men in the world, Aristotle Onassis, and as Jackie O she was vilified by many for ‘selling out’.
She had become untouchable – on a par with royalty, even.
And although she was preyed upon by the paparazzi even more, all the while she remained an enigma, a woman whom the world never got to know but would remain enthralled by.
Watching the hit Disney+ series Love Story in the company of a younger female generation, I’m struck by how entranced they have become by a very different Kennedy: the daughter-in-law that Jackie never knew – Carolyn Bessette.
Her romance with John F Kennedy Jr is the focus of Love Story: how the super-cool Carolyn played hard to get but eventually won ‘America’s Prince’.
Their courtship and marriage was tumultuous and they died together when the plane he was piloting plunged into the Atlantic in July 1999.
Throughout her time as First Lady, Jackie remained an enigma, a woman whom the world never got to know but would remain enthralled by
Carolyn had hated the media interest that went with marrying a Kennedy. If she was alive today, I’m certain she would not have had an Instagram account or posted on social media. Yet she would have been the ultimate influencer even so.
In trying to keep life ordinary – or as ordinary as a Kennedy wife could – by walking the pavements of New York or taking the subway, Carolyn appeared to exude the sort of authenticity that young women today crave, yet find so hard to establish in the hall of mirrors served up by social media. That is, I believe, the key to her appeal to Gen Z, who are discovering the Kennedys anew.
So, I find myself wondering, which of the two women, Jackie or Carolyn, will prove to have the greater, more enduring legacy? Both had an innate fashion sense. With her enormous sunglasses, pillbox hats and haute couture suits, Jackie’s style is part of her attraction – but also very much of its era. It is far easier for young women today to imagine themselves living the life Carolyn enjoyed and adopting her chic style.
Jackie came from a privileged background and was groomed by her mother to make a good marriage to a wealthy and influential man.
In contrast, Carolyn epitomised the modern woman from an ordinary background who, through ambition and talent, seized every opportunity that came her way. I think she can lay greater claim to a legacy here.
Carolyn appeared to exude the sort of authenticity that young women today crave (with John F Kennedy Jr in 1999)
Carolyn tried to hide from the cameras – in Love Story, she is tormented by Press interest in her. Jackie, too, was hounded, but understood the game, having played it since her early 20s. She used the media to her advantage, telling the best of her story and hiding the worst.
On the day of her husband’s death, for example, she refused to take off her Chanel suit stained with his blood – she understood the power of that image and she wanted to shock the world.
Her greatest achievement was famously creating a golden narrative of her husband’s time in power. In an echo of Camelot, the court of King Arthur, she framed the JFK presidency as an age of youthful promise doomed to tragedy. She knew how the relationship between politics, privilege and the media worked. She played by the rules that governed being a Kennedy wife while Carolyn tried to step away.
Poised, glacial and graceful, Jackie remains the White House chatelaine against whom all others are now measured – the original First Lady of modern times.
My generation couldn’t get enough of her, and in the long run I’d wager that interest will never wane despite Carolyn commanding the limelight for now.
That will fade eventually as interest in Love Story dwindles and Gen Z finds a new obsession.
Jackie, the icon, is an enduring triumph not just of style but remarkable substance.
The costly trap of heat pumps
I have learnt an important lesson about installing air-source heat pumps – a bit of wisdom that everyone needs to hear.
Heat pumps work in new-build homes because they’ve been fitted by professionals who specialise in green technology. If you try putting them into older houses, however, you’ll find the market is full of cowboy plumbers and gas-heating engineers desperate to profit from government grants.
They are causing a world of pain, especially to the elderly who are investing pensions and savings into schemes they believe will save them money over the longer term, only to face a brutal reality in the winter months.
On the phone to a major utility provider this week – querying a heating bill on behalf of a relative – I was told by an apologetic young man that his days were filled talking to distraught elderly customers who had been blindsided by the huge bills incurred through air-source heat pumps.
The moral of the story is this: if you are even considering putting one in your home, use a company that specialises in heat pumps and in nothing else. Remember, there is no going back. Once installed, you can’t have heat pumps removed without permission and a licence to do so from your local council!
In short, you are trapped. You have been warned.
Anti-royal BBC blunder
The BBC’s decision to slash staff numbers in the expert team covering major live events such as royal funerals and Remembrance Sunday is anti-British and anti-royal.
For a broadcaster that’s got so much wrong of late, you would have thought maintaining a gold standard in broadcasting those events which unite the nation would have been a priority. The expertise, the collective memory, the skill shown by individual members of the team… these cannot be replaced by jobbing hacks. The BBC has shot itself in the foot.
It’s a dog’s life – but not for me
As a dog owner mildly obsessed with my two 12-year-old West Highland white terriers – neither of which are well – I have reached a point in my life I know others will recognise.
I write this as I sit in the vet’s waiting room while my boy Teddy is having a CT scan under sedation. On the chair next to me is Darcey, still struggling with heart failure.
It has dawned on me that I cannot do this again. Once my stubborn little Westies have departed this earth, I’m done with having dogs. I can’t face the prospect of owning another dog and then, one day, finding that it’s me who is destined to leave them.
A survey published in the European Heart Journal informs us that short bursts of activity, such as running upstairs, can slash your risk of dementia by 63 per cent. I thought about that as I was struggling for breath, heart pounding, as I pushed my four-year-old granddaughter uphill on her scooter. Yes, grandchildren keep us young.
