‘90s normcore has never looked so good.
So no one told you life was gonna be this way; or that 2024 marks the 30th anniversary of its jaunty ring, as Friends’ celebrates three decades off the air. I was born in 1997, when the show had just entered its fourth season and was enjoying peak popularity, with viewing figures exceeding 20 million per episode. I’m almost 27 now, around the same age as the principal characters were then. In honor of Courteney Cox’s 60th birthday and the throes of quarter life, I thought I’d indulge in a bit of ‘90s nostalgia and pay tribute to the show’s unlikely but true fashion icon: Monica Geller.
It could be contested that Monica’s style was the least interesting thing about her. In fact, she has rather unsurprisingly been dubbed as the poster girl for ‘90s normcore. A personality as robust as Monica’s would diminish the aesthetic scholarship of any character’s fashion. She was quickly established as the headstrong, neurotic mother hen of the group, clucking about her kitschy, vaguely Edwardian coop preparing roast dinners, fluffing pillows, and ushering Ross’ feet off her ottoman.
Monica was, in many ways, a woman solidly of her time and her class. A Gen-Xer hailing from upper-middle class Long Island suburbia, she was of certifiable good breeding stock that left her lingering at something of a remove from the feminist ideas of that time. Her values bore the last vestiges of traditionalism against a backdrop of modern urban life (this was, let’s remember, Bill Clinton’s America and the now-disgraced Rudy Giuliani’s New York.) The ugly duckling who organized tea parties for her dollies blossomed into a swan that never quite suppressed those nurturing instincts. Monica earnestly — and sometimes desperately — nurtured Doris Day-ish dreams of making a comfortable home in a nice neighborhood, flanked by a hot husband with whom she could sire lots of babies and feed them endless batches of freshly baked treats. This future was her Eden, a Norman Rockwell painting of domestic bliss. Today, the internet would say she’s giving tradwife.
Interestingly, the seams of Monica’s traditionalist philosophy ran through neither her lifestyle nor her wardrobe. This aspiring Betty Crocker wifey was a working woman. As a professional chef, she led some of New York’s finest dining establishments and harbored ambitions to open her own restaurant. Practical and ultra-competent, she was, as Jess Cartner-Morley wrote in The Guardian, “the kind of woman who, if you complimented her on her dress in the lift at work, would tell you that she loves it because it has pockets.”
Far from living her life in aprons and matronly frocks, she often dressed like the very men she hoped to dote on. An analysis from the popular Instagram page Data But Make it Fashion, founded by computer scientist Madé Lapuerta, reported that Monica opted for turtleneck sweaters around 24% of the time, oversized leather jackets 15% of the time, and sleeveless tops or cardigans with high-waisted mom jeans 26% of the time. She also donned button-downs as crisp as her chef's whites, mid-to-low-rise trousers, and cargo pants — garments that whispered to her authority both in and out of the kitchen. The Cut went as far as to describe her style as “corporate-casual.”
In her cheeky knits and washed denim, though, Monica was as much the girl next door (both literally and figuratively) as she was the boss. But by no means was she submissive. She possessed a kind of rare self-assurance where she felt no need to put herself on display, proving in her everyday pieces like canvas sneakers, above-the-knee skirts, and demure, printed slip dresses could be classic and sexy. In the same vein, she was a woman confident in her sexuality, never one to shy away from body-skimming dresses and plunging necklines — which she could no doubt shimmy into right after neatly sliding a plate of chicken francese in front of whatever ill-fated love interest she’s cavorting with.
The canvas of Cox’s natural beauty isn’t lost on me, of course. Everything she wore hung so perfectly on her athletic frame that it may well have been bespoke. I can’t speak to the wardrobe department’s budget, but it wouldn’t be implausible for a perfectionist like Monica to invest in expert tailoring. Each article of clothing she owned was cut immaculately from even the simplest of fabrics. The costume designers stuck to a mostly neutral color palette, which lit her peaches-and-cream complexion aglow, throwing in the occasional pop of color against that gorgeous curtain of dark hair. The old adage says “The clothes maketh the man”; with Monica, the woman absolutely maketh the clothes.
Fashion has been described as a rather forgettable aspect of Friends by those who were old enough to actually see it on air; no one was watching it for the clothes. The camaraderie and antics of its outrageous characters and the image it projected of an idealized New York City are the qualities that truly conferred icon status upon the show. In Monica Geller, Friends challenged the longstanding belief that funny and fashionable are mutually exclusive for pretty female leads. There’s a reason many of her most iconic looks have withstood the test of time. We’ve all gone for the straight-leg jean, ribbed vest, and white sneaker combo at some point — but Monica will have always done it better. 🌀
Neha Ogale is a twenty-something freelance writer, recovering coat hoarder, and indie film enthusiast based in NYC. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @urbangremlin.