Pretty, Petty, and Poor: The New Romcom Heroine

Gone are the days when romcom heroines were mysteriously funded by trust funds we never saw, like how Carrie Bradshaw could afford a Manhattan apartment and a new pair of Manolos every week while writing one column a week and never packing lunch. 

Today’s leading lady is still cute, still chaotic, still capable of achieving dramatic personal growth in 90 minutes or less—but now she’s also overworked, underpaid, and two Afterpays away from financial ruin.

Welcome to the golden age of the Pretty, Petty, and Poor romcom heroine.

1. She's Got Main Character Energy... and 14 Side Hustles

She’s a copywriter, a dog-walker, a Depop girlie, and a semi-successful TikToker who moonlights as a barista “for the free oat milk.” Her mornings are powered by caffeine and cortisol. Her evenings are spent convincing herself she can wear the same dress three different ways for three different weddings.

Last Thursday, she pitched three article ideas to a feminist culture zine, sold two vintage corsets on Depop, filmed a GRWM for TikTok that accidentally got 12k views, and spilled an entire iced oat latte on herself during her 7 a.m. shift at Beans & Beings. She got ghosted by a guy named Finnegan who “does sound” and forgot to send his half of the split Uber. That night, she cried a little, made a Canva invoice, and power-walked to her friend’s engagement party in the same second hand slip she wore to a Tinder date and her cousin’s graduation.

Who has time for a meet-cute when your rent’s due on Monday?

2. Wardrobe by Pinterest, Financed by Afterpay

She’s impeccably dressed in outfits that scream effortless French cool, but her bank account is sobbing in four easy installments. Every pair of statement boots is an emotional support crutch. Every sparkly handbag was bought in a moment of optimism (or a 20%-off flash sale).

She might only have $12.48 in her savings account, but dammit—she looks like a woman with goals... who may also be slightly concerned about the impending recession.

3. Office? Never Heard of Her.

In the 2000s, Andie Anderson was paid a full-time magazine salary to sabotage a relationship for content. The 2025 version? She's freelancing for four different digital outlets, ghostwriting LinkedIn posts for tech bros, and submitting stories to places that pay in "exposure and the chance to maybe network with our unpaid editor."

HR? That’s her, baby. Also legal, IT, marketing, and lunch lady.

4. Love Interest? Unavailable, Emotionally and via Text

Mr. Right is now Mr. Ghosted-You-After-Two-Dates. He has a podcast, a weird fixation on crypto, and a tendency to say things like “I’m just not into labels.” He’s also probably a softboi who thinks walking through a farmer’s market is the same as emotional intimacy.

But don’t worry—our heroine doesn’t need him. She’s too busy falling back in love with herself (for the fifth time). And her cat. And her long-form Notes app rants. But fear not she will be mentioning this to her therapist on Monday.

5. Mental Breakdown, but Make It Fashion

She cries in bathrooms, but her eyeliner stays perfect. She’s running late for lunch (again), but she stops to photograph a flower for Instagram. She uses shopping as a form of therapy (because who can afford therapy anymore). She jokes about her trauma on tiktok and goes viral for it.

She may be spiraling, but she’s spiraling with style.

There’s a new dream girl in town. She’s charming. She’s chaotic. She’s surviving late-stage capitalism with glitter, giggles, and just a little bit (alot) of emotional damage. Her love story might involve a soft-spoken himbo barista with a neck tattoo—or maybe just a free dessert at a restaurant where she lied and said it was her birthday.

Either way, she’s the heroine we deserve in 2025: delulu, dramatic, and deep in denial about her HECS debt.

So the next time she’s speed-walking to a date with chipped nails, a tote bag full of emotional support trinkets, and the resilience of a day-old croissant, dodging rent reminders and life crises with the precision of a girl who has absolutely not opened her MyGov in two years—remember: this is cinema. And she’s booked and busy (but mostly booked out of therapy).