In Defense of Rory Gilmore
April 13, 2026
Writer: Clara Kanter
Editor: Charlie Zien
Her hair is shiny and straight. She is, without fail, adorned with a natural flush that just screams naturally pretty. She’s shy — but witty. She has more pop cultural references stored in her mind than I knew was possible. She’s not interested in guys, but they cannot seem to get enough of her. She’s often referred to as an “angel”, “perfect,” “wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She is, Rory Gilmore.
Watching Gilmore Girls for the first time at age ten, I was enthralled by this seemingly perfect creature that floated across my living room TV screen. I wanted her shiny hair, her comedic timing, her effortless charm, and her undeniable intelligence. Like many of us (at one point or another), I wanted to be Rory Gilmore. So I read the books she read, wore the plaids, argyles, and knits that she was known for, drank coffee like my life depended on it, tried to emulate her ‘deer in the headlights’ persona, and even dressed up as her for Halloween (twice).
This phase lasted longer than I’d like to admit. But, as I got older, something shifted. The same character I had idolized was being picked apart online — being called obnoxious, entitled, and bratty. Rory Gilmore is not in fact an ‘angel’, but the internet seemed to systematically dismantle her in a way that felt unbalanced — and unfair.
I will say, I do see the roots of these criticisms. She can be slightly entitled and distraught when things don’t go as planned. But who wouldn’t be if you were raised as the one shiny beacon of hope for your family or constantly being praised throughout childhood? To me, that feels like a recipe for a skewed sense of self. Additionally, regarding her romantic relationships, anyone who’s seen even a little bit of the show can see she was raised on unstable ground — watching her mother, Loreali, go through many tumultuous relationships; witnessing that at a young age will no doubt influence how one approaches their own romantic relationships.
In the grand scheme of things, she is one disproportionately scrutinized television character. And I wonder, did they resent her for falling from the pedestal they themselves had built? Perhaps these viewers, similar to those in Rory’s life, placed her on a pedestal, admired her shiny hair and witty comebacks with awe, and then, when it was inevitable that she tumbled off the pedestal, she was turned on simply for character flaws.
Rory Gilmore’s fall from grace isn’t unique to television. It’s a pattern we repeat with people we know. We build pedestals for friends, partners, family members, that girl on the street whose jeans we love. We dub people ‘the golden child.’ ‘The smart one.’And then, when they inevitably stumble, we act shocked. Betrayed. As if they broke a promise they never signed up to keep. The internet simply did to Rory what we've all been guilty of doing in real life: we placed her impossibly high, and when she couldn't stay there, we resented her for it. The lesson isn't about forgiving Rory Gilmore. It's about recognizing that people are more than we perceive them to be — and even the most seemingly angelic of people are flawed.