"So you’re like, really pretty."
- Regina George, Mean Girls (2004)
Iggy Azalea and Britney Spears want us to think they’re pretty. More importantly, they want us to know that they think they’re pretty. Pretty enough that they’ll "wipe the floor with all the boys," and pretty enough that we won’t question a song wrapped in the mythology of blonde and white looks and the power they wield. But I don’t think anybody’s that pretty. Not when the most exciting pop music celebrates more than just physical attributes.
Empowerment via one’s good looks isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and it isn’t new—our liberal use of selfies on Instagram confirms as much. And "Pretty Girls" isn’t about using beauty to hurt other women, it’s more of a rallying cry or call to arms for a best-and-fun life. Iggy and Britney urge their fan to "jump the line" and to "do what we want" before following up their sentiments with their justification: "We’re just so pretty!" It’s heart is in the right place, even if it’s comparable to the opening cheer in Bring It On.
But that’s also why the backlash against it is justified. The song applauds "prettiness" (read: conventional beauty), and encourages aesthetically #blessed women to revel in their DNA. And only in their DNA. Unlike Beyoncé’s "***Flawless" (which prompts listeners to declare themselves as such—both in looks and in life), or "Sausage" (which sees Lil Mama own her sexuality and celebrate her sister’s acceptance to Yale), "Pretty Girls" coughs up only one relatively obvious sentiment: looks are all that matter.
If released in the naughties, "Pretty Girls" would’ve fit into the pop landscape perfectly. The Pussycat Dolls’ 2005 hit, "Don’t Cha" hangs its hat on the premise of a woman being hotter than the girlfriend of a man she wants to be with. Fergie’s "Fergalicious" (2006) is a song based around the singer’s gym schedule and ability to "make them boys go crazy." Even Destiny’s Child’s "Bootylicious" (2001) relies more on descriptions of physical attributes than it does on what’s attached to said attributes. (Like wit, skills, or personality. Although for the record, the group breaks from this trope almost immediately following this jam’s release.) Ultimately, following the '90s "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends" ethos (Spice Girls, 1996), the 2000s were rich in self-mythologizing via genetics—even MIMS took a sip in his 2007 hit, "This Is Why I’m Hot". (The answer? Because he’s fly.)
But over the last few years (and especially this one), we’ve seen physical traits become less of a priority. Sure, female pop stars may be celebrating how great they look, but their songs are coupled with shout-outs to professionalism, achievements, and/or by unapologetically owning their sexuality. They’re pretty and more. (And prettiness that isn’t just blonde and blue-eyed, either.)
"Feeling Myself"—Nicki Minaj’s and Beyoncé’s BFF/grown-ass woman manifesto—details not just their self-confidence, but the reasons they have it: established rap empires, Beyoncé’s game-changing self-titled release, and their fulfilling sex lives. Meanwhile, "Bad Blood" may be an excessive tribute to girl vs. girl conflict, but unlike "Don’t Cha" (that saw the singer shame the subject’s partner via "don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot/ a freak like me"), it focuses on feelings, not physical traits or attractiveness. Rihanna’s "Bitch Better Have My Money"? A song about business, money, and her empowerment from it. (You know what’s cooler than a million dollars? Not measuring your self worth through your looks.)
Even Little Mix (Britain’s latest B*Witched-esque pop group) was quick to defend their video for "Black Magic" after claims that it propelled the makeover myth. In the video, members consume a magic potion that transforms them from Lainey Boggs to Lainey Boggs-without-glasses, which allows them to take over the school and wreak havoc on anyone who’s ever crossed them.
"We hope that people understand the message, and the message is that the potion we take is confidence," said member Leigh-Anne Pinnock. "That’s what we’re giving the girls around the world; if you have a little bit of confidence you can do anything, and it’s so important to believe in yourself, that’s what the message is."
But if anything, praising the merits of conventional beauty (or encouraging listeners to look like and/or be somebody else) seemingly has become an amateur move for all genders. Aside from the travesty that was 2013’s "Blurred Lines", male pop stars are masking their gaze with faux sensitivity, singing about feelings and forevers instead of the subject’s state of sex appeal. Arguably, Ed Sheeran’s built a career out of his tender/loving jams, with his most recent single, "Thinking Out Loud", assuring his "darling" that he’ll love her until she’s downright geriatric, when her "legs don’t work like they used to."
And he’s not alone: The Weeknd ("Earned It"), One Direction ("Night Changes"), and even Maroon 5 ("Sugar"—a song in which Levine is literally begging for sex), all put their subjects on pedestals, commenting not on their appearance, but catering to their emotions and even their egos. To the Weeknd, she is perfect. To One Direction, she’s living without regrets. To Maroon 5, she completes him. We have no idea what she looks like, so she could be anyone. Of course, that’s the point, since being "anyone" means she could be you or I. In these songs, all any woman has to be is herself.
So while "Pretty Girls" may not be preaching aesthetic conversion either, its emphasis on looks seems as dated as the video’s '80s-centric premise. Especially since Britney Spears and Iggy Azalea should be past it.
Britney Spears especially. On top of staging a comeback of epic proportions at the end of the 2000s, in 2013 she delivered "Work, Bitch", an anthem for self-starters/workaholics everywhere. So what happened? Where did the boss go? And speaking of which: even Iggy landed the Song of the Summer last year, before racking up awards at the start of 2015. And while "Fancy" also dealt in the art of self-mythologizing, she at least attributed her worth to more than how she made men feel. Even her bragging about the fictional highway between L.A. and Tokyo alluded to her having to work hard. (Or at all.)
These are just more reasons why "Pretty Girls" is so unworthy: not only is it a massive step back for its artists, it’s a step back for pop music in general. Considering Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, Nicki Minaj, and even Fifth Harmony (the band’s single, "Worth It" is a song about being just that) are using their music to preach empowerment on one’s own terms, "Pretty Girls" comes across as a Mean Girls manifesto, ideal for after-school shopping trips with Regina George (who spends the afternoon encouraging you to look or act like her—which rings especially true, since the video sees Britney and Iggy taking their blonde hair and California tans out for a joyride).
Pop music deserves a better summer anthem—or at least one that celebrates unconventional beauty, doesn’t abide by heteronormative terms, and recognizes women as more than just token "pretty" faces. (Especially since "pretty" is subjective, and "Pretty Girls" seems anything but.) It deserves a song like the ones we’ve been getting accustomed to: ones that champion careers, friendships, feelings, and yes, physical traits, but as an afterthought, or as part of a bigger whole. It deserves a song about breakfast foods.
It deserves a song that’s pretty, pretty, pretty . . . good.