Sixty years after her death, Marilyn Monroe’s image continues to command global attention. This week, a gathering of lookalikes in London marked what would have been the actress’s 100th birthday, prompting reflection on the enduring grip of Hollywood iconography on British cultural life. The event, organised by a vintage cinema club, drew dozens of participants dressed in the signature platinum curls and white halter dress from The Seven Year Itch.
The timing is significant. Monroe’s centenary arrives as debates intensify about the influence of American soft power in the United Kingdom. A recent YouGov poll found that 68 per cent of Britons under 30 could identify Monroe from a photograph, compared with 42 per cent who recognised Dame Judi Dench.
The asymmetry underscores a cultural dependency that scholars have long observed. Dr. Eleanor Finch of the London School of Economics describes Monroe as “an avatar of American cultural imperialism.
She represents a certain ideal of femininity and glamour that British cinema has never fully countered.” The British film industry, despite periodic revivals, has not produced a star of comparable international resonance since the 1960s. The lookalike event itself was a monetised homage.
Participants paid £150 for costumes and styling, with professional photographers selling prints. The commercialisation of Monroe’s image has been ongoing since her death, generating an estimated £20 million annually in licensing fees for the estate. Critics argue that this phenomenon distorts historical memory.
“Monroe was a complicated figure, a victim of studio system exploitation,” notes film historian Peter Ashton. “Reducing her to a dress and a wig erases that context.” Yet the appeal persists.
Among the attendees was Sarah Jenkins, a 34-year-old accountant from Leeds, who said she felt “connected to a golden age of cinema” while in costume. The event organiser, Martin Price, defended the practice as harmless celebration. “It’s about joy, not politics,” he said.
The centenary has also sparked academic interest. A symposium at the University of Cambridge titled “Marilyn and the Monarchy” will examine parallels between Monroe’s celebrity and that of the British royal family. Both are, in different ways, products of carefully managed images.
As the lookalikes posed for photographs on the steps of the National Gallery, the scene echoed a broader truth. Hollywood’s cultural products remain deeply embedded in British life, shaping tastes, aspirations and even self-perception. Monroe’s birthday, in this context, is not just a nostalgic milestone.
It is a reminder of the asymmetrical cultural trade between Britain and the United States. The enduring power of that trade was evident in every pose and shutter click. Monroe may have been American, but her myth belongs as much to Britain as to her homeland.
