A small yet absurd detail about Rachel Green, played by Hollywood star Jennifer Aniston, has been unexpectedly unearthed—sparking a wave of debate over the realism of the iconic series Friends. The detail? Her career trajectory, which takes her from pouring coffee to high-level fashion executive, all within the span of a single sitcom decade. It’s a plot arc that’s always been part of Rachel’s charm—she grows from a spoiled runaway bride into a self-sufficient woman with a glamorous job—but when you peel back the layers, her professional success starts to look more like fantasy than inspiration.

Rachel’s journey in the workforce begins humbly enough: she cuts up her father’s credit cards in the pilot episode and gets a job as a waitress at Central Perk. It’s a classic tale of starting from the bottom, made more palatable by the show’s comedic tone. She’s clueless in the beginning, doesn’t even know how to work the espresso machine, and leans heavily on her friends for emotional and financial support. But eventually, she decides she wants more from life and begins pursuing a career in fashion—a field she claims to be passionate about.

The issue is that this supposed passion isn’t backed up by much beyond a love of shopping. Rachel doesn’t go back to school, doesn’t intern, and doesn’t seem to build a professional portfolio. Her leap into the fashion world comes almost too easily. She lands a job as a personal assistant at Fortunata Fashions and, shortly thereafter, finds herself working at Bloomingdale’s. Then comes Ralph Lauren. By the end of the series, she’s fielding a job offer in Paris. It’s an impressive résumé for anyone, let alone someone with no formal training or industry connections—at least none that were openly acknowledged in the show.

Of course, some fans have long speculated that her wealthy background may have played a bigger role than the writers let on. Rachel’s father is a successful surgeon, her upbringing was one of privilege, and she likely had access to networks that could have helped her get her foot in the door. The series never explicitly shows Dr. Green pulling strings, but in the real world, having a father in the upper echelons of New York society would be a considerable advantage—especially in industries as competitive and exclusive as fashion.

Then there’s Rachel’s actual behavior throughout her supposed career boom. Despite working for top-tier companies, she seems to spend a suspicious amount of time at Central Perk, sipping lattes and chatting with friends in the middle of the day. She takes long lunches, disappears for personal errands, and even jets off for romantic escapades. Rarely do we see her at work, let alone working hard. Even in the later seasons, when she’s supposedly juggling high-stakes meetings and managing a major fashion account, she’s often more involved in drama with Ross or Monica’s wedding plans than anything remotely professional.

It’s also telling that most of her job moves are plot-driven rather than grounded in character development. She gets fired for fraternizing with a client, only to stumble into another dream opportunity days later. She dates her assistant and navigates the fallout with hardly a hiccup. It’s all very entertaining—but also wildly implausible.

And yet, despite its inconsistencies, Rachel’s career arc remains one of the show’s most beloved storylines. For many viewers, especially young women watching during the late ’90s and early 2000s, she represented aspiration and independence. Her success was symbolic, even if not realistic. She showed that it was possible to start over, to forge your own path—even if that path was more fantasy than blueprint.

Now, with a more critical lens and the benefit of hindsight, fans are re-examining Rachel’s rise with new skepticism. In a media landscape more attuned to the importance of authenticity and representation, her story seems less like a relatable journey and more like a missed opportunity to portray real career challenges. Had the show addressed her privilege more directly, or shown her overcoming legitimate professional hurdles, her arc might have been even more powerful.

Instead, what we’re left with is a curious contradiction: Rachel Green, the underdog waitress turned fashion executive, may never have really paid her dues. But in the world of Friends, where rent-controlled apartments and magical job offers abound, maybe that was never the point.