Lorelai Gilmore’s Wardrobe Is a Perfect Early-Aughts Time Capsule

Fall is in full swing, which means it’s officially Gilmore Girls season. For those who don’t rewatch this show yearly as soon as the leaves start changing, you’re missing out; with its cozy Carole King theme song, sweeping shots of New England foliage, and constant cups of coffee being poured, it’s the definitive fall show.

I’ve been periodically mainlining all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls (in this house, we do not acknowledge the revival) for years now, but on this year’s rewatching, I couldn’t help but be distracted by one very important detail I hadn’t really noticed before: Lorelai Gilmore’s wardrobe.

Lorelai has always been the heart and soul of Gilmore Girls, lighting up the lives of her daughter, Rory, her best friend, Sookie, her hot diner crush, Luke, and everyone else around her, but—with all due respect—how did I never notice how idiosyncratic her clothes were? Lauren Graham, the actress who plays Lorelai, has a preternatural ability to pull off clothes that shouldn’t work.

To be fair to Lorelai, she wasn’t the only one dressing with wild abandon at the time. The early aughts were fashion chaos: a time in which shrugs and Uggs reigned, jeans were slipped under skirts, and absolutely everyone ignored that famous fashion dictum, often ascribed to Coco Chanel, of looking in the mirror and taking one thing off before leaving the house.

Back then, we were all pattern-heavy, graphic-tee-wearing, low-rise-jeans-embracing maximalists. While the sartorial pendulum has often swung between the minimal and the over-the-top, there was a historical reason for the more-is-more trend in the United States. Gilmore Girls premiered in 2000, just a year before 9/11, and the seasons that aired after the tragedy reflect the national mood, at least when it comes to conspicuous consumption; in early seasons of Gilmore Girls, Rory and Lorelai squeal about Sephora, steal each other’s clothes, and shop almost as frequently as they eat at Luke’s Diner. (Lorelai’s outfits come down to earth a bit in later seasons, possibly mirroring the nation’s tentative return to normalcy.)

“Fashion and fashion consumerism were key factors in the short-term economic and emotional recovery of the United States after September 11,” writes Minh-Ha T. Pham in her essay “The Right to Fashion in the Age of Terrorism,” and nobody embodied that can-spend spirit more than Lorelai Gilmore (with the possible exception of Carrie Bradshaw, who urged her friends to go shopping and “throw some much-needed money downtown” in a 2002 Sex and the City episode.)

Aside from her outfits’ political context, Lorelai’s style choices can also be ascribed to her atypical mother-daughter bond with her precocious daughter, Rory. The show’s premise is that Lorelai might be the mom, but she acts more like the daughter, and her clothes reflect that, making her look something like Jennifer Garner’s character in 13 Going on 30: a teen girl who turned into an adult woman overnight—a description that applies, albeit less literally, to teen mom Lorelai, who had to be responsible for herself and her daughter at just 16-years-old.

Given that context, maybe it makes sense that Lorelai tends toward pinks, pastels, patterns, rhinestones, and ironic T-shirts; for the show’s first few seasons, she’s dressing as the teenager she never really got to be.

Without further ado, let’s take a look at some of Lorelai’s most definitively early-aughts outfits from Gilmore Girls’ first few seasons.

Take A Tour Through Lorelai Gilmore's Oh-So-Early-Aughts Wardrobe 

After a pilot episode of boring work suits and colorful sweaters, this is the first time we see Lorelai's real style in action. The pink tie-dye shirt! The Daisy Duke cutoffs! The cowboy boots! (Sure, they're fashionable now, but this was almost 20 years ago.) Lorelai's outfit quickly becomes a point of contention as she chooses to drop Rory off at her fancy new school wearing it, but it's a perfect time capsule of the year 2000.
Lorelai usually kept it pretty toned down for work, but this shirt represents a bold departure. It's sort of a distant cousin of Carrie Bradshaw's Galliano newspaper dress, with a much stronger clearance-rack vibe.
New wave nostalgia was all the rage in the early aughts, as Lorelai proves with her sleeveless graphic muscle tee in a uniquely 2000 shade of pea-green.

Graphic Band Tee

New wave nostalgia was all the rage in the early aughts, as Lorelai proves with her sleeveless graphic muscle tee in a uniquely 2000 shade of pea-green.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix
Ah, now we really get down to it. Lorelai hosts Rory's birthday party in a long-sleeve shirt so achingly aughts, with its contrasting prints, long sleeves, V-neck and vivid colors, that it's almost hard to believe.
Lorelai Gilmore was nothing if not a headband-and-bandanna lover, and while the accessory makes sense in the context of cleaning out her fridge, she also loved to bring it into her everyday wear (as was deemed sartorially acceptable back in the day.)
It was…a different time, a time when many felt perfectly comfortable appropriating Chinese characters and symbols to put on clothing and accessories.  Still, this one doesn't hold up great.
Could there be a more early-aughts combination of clothing and accessories than a cap-sleeved dog shirt and a cross-body messenger bag? If so, I'm having trouble imagining it.

Puppy Shirt/Messenger Bag

Could there be a more early-aughts combination of clothing and accessories than a cap-sleeved dog shirt and a cross-body messenger bag? If so, I'm having trouble imagining it.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix
I'm not sure why, but I blame Kate Hudson movies for this trend of throwing a shrug over a lacy/barely-there camisole and calling it a night.

Shrug/Cami

I'm not sure why, but I blame Kate Hudson movies for this trend of throwing a shrug over a lacy/barely-there camisole and calling it a night.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix
Sure, the newspaper veil is a joke, but the sleeveless tee emblazoned with femme-tastic strands of pearls is all too real.

Faux Pearl Tee

Sure, the newspaper veil is a joke, but the sleeveless tee emblazoned with femme-tastic strands of pearls is all too real.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix
Ombre made a resurgence at the beginning of the 2010s, particularly in hair color, but Lorelai Gilmore was questionably rocking it—emblazoned with rhinestones, no less—all the way back in 2002.

Rhinestone Ombre Long-Sleeve Shirt

Ombre made a resurgence at the beginning of the 2010s, particularly in hair color, but Lorelai Gilmore was questionably rocking it—emblazoned with rhinestones, no less—all the way back in 2002.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix
This shirt looks like something a pre-presidency Donald Trump would force cater-waiters to wear while serving mini hot dogs at a Trump Towers event. No bueno.

Gold Ruffles

This shirt looks like something a pre-presidency Donald Trump would force cater-waiters to wear while serving mini hot dogs at a Trump Towers event. No bueno.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix
Something about Lorelai's style is not just early-aughts, but specifically teen-girl-in-the-early-aughts; this pink satin shirt/headband combo is giving me ninth-grade flashbacks.

Headband/Shiny Shirt

Something about Lorelai's style is not just early-aughts, but specifically teen-girl-in-the-early-aughts; this pink satin shirt/headband combo is giving me ninth-grade flashbacks.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix
You would pretty much have to be as beautiful as Lauren Graham to appear in public wearing a pink knitted turtleneck emblazoned with the image of a small, annoying dog (although it's surprisingly easy to imagine some vintage-clothing influencer layering it over a lace petticoat today.)
I hate this cat wearing a tiara. I hate everything about it. I hate its fur, its mouth, the Claire's Accessories PTSD it provokes in me, and God help me, I hate the pink velour zip-up hoodie layered over it, which may or may not be Juicy Couture.
Remember 2002, when you didn't actually have to be witty yourself as long as your T-shirt was cracking a joke? Lorelai does.

‘Funny’ Shirt

Remember 2002, when you didn't actually have to be witty yourself as long as your T-shirt was cracking a joke? Lorelai does.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix
Okay, I'll give Lorelai retroactive points for the bucket hat, which has seen a resurgence of late, but there's simply no excuse for the tacky rose pendant and straight-from-Delias lacy pink shirt she's wearing.
Ah, oui, le wide belt, staple of the early aughts. Or, in the words of Mindy Kaling: "'Cinch together the whole look with a wide belt' was a very popular style in the early 2000s, which we believed accentuated our curves but in reality made a generation of women look like we were wearing lumbar support braces.”
True story: I received a lemon-yellow Burberry golf cap almost exactly like this one for Chanukah in 2006 and left it at my camp friend's house in New Jersey. I miss that hat.

Golf Cap

True story: I received a lemon-yellow Burberry golf cap almost exactly like this one for Chanukah in 2006 and left it at my camp friend's house in New Jersey. I miss that hat.
There's nothing technically wrong with this shirt, but it brings to mind the 1970s-hippie sartorial nostalgia that was so popular during the first half of the 2000s, particularly once the Iraq War was underway.

Peace Sign Tee

There's nothing technically wrong with this shirt, but it brings to mind the 1970s-hippie sartorial nostalgia that was so popular during the first half of the 2000s, particularly once the Iraq War was underway.
“Put a bow on it” feels a little literal, but that's exactly what Lorelai is doing with this look. Candy-pink zip-up hoodie and ultra-girly tee embellished with not one, but two images? That's early-season Lorelai, and we love her for it.

Bow Tee

“Put a bow on it” feels a little literal, but that's exactly what Lorelai is doing with this look. Candy-pink zip-up hoodie and ultra-girly tee embellished with not one, but two images? That's early-season Lorelai, and we love her for it.
Photo: Courtesy of Netflix

Originally Appeared on Vogue