Girls! Girls! Girls!

Pop girls in the spotlight

I have always been attracted to — and easily distracted by — pretty people.

This is precisely why I will always be a staunch defender and lover of the pop girlies, like Selena Gomez and Sabrina Carpenter.

Female pop icons have some of the most power in popular culture — they boost local economies on world tours, influence fashion and write the soundtrack to people’s coming of age.

Many of these women also become a highly revered image of the ideal woman, which complicates things for the once-little girls like me who didn’t feel as “tanned, toned, fit and ready’’ as Katy Perry in her Daisy Dukes.

What initially drew me to the fantastical world of pop stardom was Disney Channel’s all-time classic Hannah Montana.

Hannah Montana’s closet is to Gen Z what Cher from Clueless’ closet was to millennials: the dream. The show made Miley Cyrus into a brand for little girls — our parents happily bought Halloween costumes, PJ sets, jewellery and singing dolls. However, when she began to break out of the child star mould with her iconic 2013 VMAs performance, the media turned on her, and so did our parents.

I was 10 years old when Miley entered her Bangerz era. Hannah Montana had been off the air for two years, and I remember feeling the same kind of surprise and shock that the rest of the world felt when they realized who she had become.

She was done with the PG outfits I had become accustomed to seeing her in. Besides the revealing clothing and the twerking, I remember my mind being blown by the imagery in the music video for “We Can't Stop” — there was fake blood that looked like Pepto Bismol, dancing stuffed animals, montages laced with sexual undertones and lyrics I could not for the life of me understand at that age, like “Everyone in line in the bathroom, tryna get a line in the bathroom.” I now understand that the second line was not referring to waiting to use the soap dispenser.

Despite it all, I didn’t necessarily think anything Miley was singing, wearing or dancing was bad or shameful until other people told me it was.

Now, looking back at videos of Miley during this time, I view these things as her asserting her agency. Her entire career up until that point had been made to cater to little girls, but now her contract was up, and she could start to make music that reflected the stage of life she was experiencing. Miley, like all 20-somethings, was asserting her sexuality and womanhood. This change was normal, but not palatable to everyone who expected her to stay the same forever.

Around the same time, Katy Perry was taking the pop music world by storm.

Like Miley, Katy had to perform femininity — she made girls worship her purple hair and sparkly eyeshadow. She always showed just the right amount of midriff, and carefully calculated the cleavage showing in her candy bra.

Because Katy was more accommodating to the ‘male gaze,’ her sexuality wasn’t policed in the same ways artists like Miley or Lady Gaga were. She continued to be marketed to children, while Gaga and Miley were seen as an abomination to precious young minds.

Katy made many songs with subtle sexual references, and songs like “I Kissed a Girl” were hits back then. Now, more and more people seem to be realizing how it sheds a strange light on Queer women by sexualizing their relationships and treating sexual activities with other women like a game, of sorts. It’s especially uncomfortable coming from someone like Katy, who often seems to skirt around questions about her sexuality.

This was confusing for little girls like me who were figuring out their gender expression and sexuality under the influence of female celebrities. In reality, things like Lady Gaga’s neutral answers to speculations regarding her genitalia and gender were in service to her younger listeners.

None of these artists are obligated to come out to anyone, but it does leave a weird taste in your mouth when you think about how reluctant people like Katy were to identify with the communities off of which she was profiting.

Let’s fast forward to today.

At 21, I’m still keeping up with all the classic pop girlies, but am embracing a new generation of performers like Raveena Aurora and Chappell Roan.

Chappell is breaking boundaries, and among other mainstream pop girls, I think she is an awesome anomaly. In terms of expressing femininity, sexuality and agency, she is doing it with pride — and while she has more than a few haters, she is succeeding.

I’d like to think the younger me would love Chappell’s outfits. Her artistic choices are dynamic — she opts to perform in more revealing, drag-inspired one-piece bodysuits, and even tried out a suit of armour (inspired by either Julie D’Aubigny or Joan of Arc — the debate is ongoing). They’re sometimes sexual, sure, but they’re always in service of her music and her message; they uplift marginalized communities, especially the Queer community, by paying homage to important cultural and historical references, and she always gives credit to her inspirations where it’s due.

In lieu of coy references to experimenting with women, Chappell’s songs include nuanced depictions of the lust, heartbreak, love, resentment and regret that representations of Queer relationships deserve. While art about discovering who you are by experimenting may also be important, it shouldn’t discredit the experiences of marginalized communities in the process. And Chappell isn’t afraid to talk about her sexuality — by describing herself in these ways, she’s decreasing the stigma around words like “Queer” or “lesbian,” and showing young girls who are figuring it out that it’s okay to identify in these ways.

And now Chappell is being played on the radio and all over TikTok. The representation that was once impossible to find is now inescapable.

If the fate of many child stars, like Miley, is proof of anything, it is that pop stars should not be used to shape children’s minds. They should not be propped on a pedestal and used to project an image of the ideal, tame, young woman.

However, they do impact the culture. So the best thing they can do is be themselves. The culture will have no other option than to adapt and evolve.

There are so many kids, especially young girls, trying to figure out how to be, so seeing these powerful people wearing what they want, and saying what they want, will make all the difference.