Charli XCX, the artist behind the critically acclaimed album *Brat*, has offered a startlingly honest assessment of her life as a pop star: she finds it, at times, profoundly “stupid.” It’s a confession that peels back the glossy veneer of fame, revealing a complex reality far removed from red carpets and chart-topping hits.
Despite the undeniable perks – the designer gifts, the exclusive experiences – a nagging sense of absurdity permeates her world. She describes a strange duality: being elevated to a “special” status while simultaneously feeling embarrassed by the very nature of her profession. It’s a paradox she’s grappling with, a feeling amplified by the intense scrutiny that comes with nine million Instagram followers and multiple number-one records.
The inner circle of pop music offers glimpses behind the curtain, a preview of cultural shifts and unreleased tracks. She recalls a moment with a fellow artist, Addison, driving through New York, hearing a song – Diet Pepsi – for the first time, months before its release. There’s a collaborative spirit, a network of support, but also a sobering realization that even devoted fans won’t remain loyal indefinitely.
On stage, she can experience a godlike power, connecting with audiences and soundtracking their most emotional moments. She travels the world effortlessly, without the mundane concerns of booking flights or hotels. Yet, this freedom comes with a peculiar privilege: the ability to call in sick whenever she pleases, knowing another artist will likely be even less reliable.
Charli is acutely aware of public perception, and the frustrating tendency to underestimate her. She feels a persistent need to defend herself against the assumption of stupidity, a label she finds particularly infuriating. It’s fascinating, she notes, to be viewed as a “fantasy” by the world, a projection of desires and expectations.
She observes a troubling pattern in how women are perceived: either as symbols of sex, anarchy, or intelligence, with any deviation from these categories swiftly met with harsh judgment. A desire for complexity is often punished, transforming admiration into accusations of promiscuity, addiction, or pretentiousness. This, she believes, is the root of the “stupidity” narrative.
The anger directed at successful women, she argues, stems from a deeply ingrained societal conditioning. We are, she contends, “brainwashed” by patriarchal structures to resent female ambition and punish those who break free from prescribed roles. Her own “box” is the image of a carefree party girl, a persona she accepts as part of the package, but one that doesn’t define her intellect or depth.
This isn’t a new sentiment for Charli XCX. Years ago, she boldly declared that “being a b*h is the best,” rejecting the pressure to be a role model. Now, she articulates a more nuanced perspective: embracing imperfection and acknowledging her struggles are essential to her authenticity. It’s this honesty, she admits, that sometimes lands her in trouble.
She’s a songwriter who fearlessly explores themes of sex, alcohol, and drugs, but also champions female friendship and self-expression. Her willingness to speak her mind, to be messy and imperfect, is what ultimately makes her whole. It’s a refusal to be neatly categorized, a defiant rejection of the limitations imposed upon her.
