A love letter to Charli xcx from Charlie xx
The internet doesn’t need another think piece on brat. Or does it?
Yes, I know, brat summer was so last year (the album was released on the 7th of June 2024) so why am I only choosing to write about it now? I am 365 days late and some. Well I suppose I’m nostalgic for a summer, no a feeling, a cultural phenomenon. It can’t be over yet. Fellow Charli fans agree wondering, “If Mariah Carey sings the same song every Christmas, we can have brat every summer” to which Charli directly responded, “ok wow i never thought about it like this.” Charli has expressed her conflicting feelings about leaving brat behind on her TikTok, and honestly, why should she? Female artists are expected to relentlessly reinvent themselves (Beyoncé, Taylor, Madonna, Lady Gaga etc.) in order to keep the treadmill going, to keep eyes on them, whilst male artists are given space to simply be/stay true to themselves (Elton John, Bruce Springsteen, Jay Z etc.) Change is arguably imperative to creating inspiring and interesting work, but it really hasn’t been that long since brat first stewed.
The nights might be drawing in but reader, must brat summer be over?
Brat bottled what it is to be a young woman today. She’s chaotic and wild but she’s also a deep thinker and sensitive. She’s fiercely intelligent but she’s also silly and does dumb things. The album chewed up and spat out the exhausting expectations placed upon women (I can’t help but think of the brilliant ‘Be A Lady They Said’ video Cynthia Nixon narrated for Girls Girls Girls magazine.) Brat positively rejects perfectionism and we lap it up. Like me, you might have sighed with relief when you first heard it. Finally someone gets it.
If you haven’t studied the Ivor Novello award winning lyrics here’s a brat 101 song digest:
Everything is romantic=heady summers
Rewind=coming of age/nostalgia
So I=grief
B2b=irresistibly bad relationships
Girl, so confusing=female friendship
Von dutch=confidence/girl power
I think about it all the time=questioning motherhood
365=partying
I might say something stupid=hangxiety
Tick, tick, tick etc. You know the feelings.
The only lyrical artist I can compare Charli to is Lily Allen. They have a similar honest and no-fucks-given approach to song writing. The lyrics might read as simplistic when in fact they’ve summarised a zeitgeist in very few, but direct words.
(Side note: I cried from my sofa when watching Lily Allen come out on Olivia Rodrigo’s Glastonbury 2022 set to sing Allen’s ‘Fuck You’ together in light of the overturning of Roe vs. Wade).
Brat is a feminist album. It’s also a political one — Barack Obama included 365 on his annual summer playlist in 2024 and declared on I’ve Had It podcast to hosts Jennifer Welch and Angie Sullivan, “Charli xcx, she knows what she’s doing.” Damn right she does. And also, duhh of course this internet breaking moment:
To which Kamala herself quickly adopted on x:
And oh that lurid, unforgettable shade of green. As is the case with the most infectious fashion trends (and possibly maybe even with Charli’s music too?) your immediate reaction might be repulsion, ew the brashness of it all. But then you find that specific green shade of bic lighter/notebook in your handbag (peak brat signifiers) and without you even knowing it, you have succumbed to the brat bug that is crawling under your skin.
Charli is undoubtedly a marketing queen. She has spoken often about how she wanted to release this record in a similar “drop” format to the way Supreme releases new products. The low resolution and lower case font nod to the early digital era she grew up in and is partly nostalgic for. The choice to not have a sexy babe cover reaffirms her refusal to be packaged, presented and sold in such a manner. And of course the green perfectly ties it all together — you don’t want to look at it but you can’t help but be consumed by it. Symmetric dichotomy.
10 30pm Saturday night @ Glastonbury 2025 on the Other stage. Urgh of course Charli was placed there but I kind of love that she was. It’s the perfect symbolism of her career, how she’s both mainstream/main stage but also glaringly other. Arguably the greatest artists tow this fine line and for the past year Charli’s stood proud at the front of the queue, maybe whilst dolloping a thick, sticky layer of her favourite La Neige lip balm on, or maybe she’s resting her glass of Aperol spritz on the corner of the club sink? Either way you’re not gonna queue jump her.
Speaking of clubs and bathrooms, please watch Charli’s hilarious walk though of 365 and relate.
But back to Glasto. Saturday night was a night of musical clashes. Yeh it’s cute that Scissor Sisters reunited, that 79 year old Neil Diamond was still rocking and yes I would have loved to have witnessed Doechii’s killer looks, lyrics and moves but it was a no brainer for me. I had to see our Charli, the headliner who brought in the biggest crowd that night. Duhh. Pre Charli, Skepta was bouncing and busting his beats. The crowd was buzzing, if a little aggressive.
Then on came Charli. Readers, I’m here to tell you it was euphoric. The energy was UP and it didn’t waver until the brat green flag began to lick with flames at the end of her set. She had snatched us in her clenched fist, punching us higher and higher into her orbit. It felt powerful.
Forgive me for jumping around so much but rewind back to the 16th of June. I’m at Tottenham Hotspur stadium with two of my best girlfriends who had generously gifted me tickets to see Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter tour for my 30th birthday present. They know me so well. I’ve long been a dedicated member of the Beehive. I even titled my bridesmaids WhatsApp chat ‘Shotgun Riders’ ffs. Where am I going with this you might ask? Well of course I can’t compare the two artists, literally the only thing they share is their gender. But what I can share with you dear reader is that it took a while for the crowd at Tottenham to match Beyoncés effervescent energy. Meanwhile on the Other Stage we were instantly enraptured by Charli’s vitality from the get go. At Beyoncé we stood frozen in awe. At Charli we felt seen, heard and lifted. We were in it together.
Full disclosure, I’m a super Charli fan but also a shallow one. Charli declared in her revealing interview with Zane Lowe for Apple Music back in October 2024 how her musical trajectory “has been the total opposite of an over night success story”. I’m catching a wave that rumbled years ago, but hey, Charli doesn’t discriminate. Still not convinced by my fan authenticity? Let me explain.
I’m a model with a very conventional girl-next-door look. I drink copious amounts of tea (and have an alarming collection of teapot vessels to drink tea from). I enjoy going to garden centres with my Mum. I have a recipe folder. On paper I couldn’t be further from Brat (I wear more gold than silver jewellery ffs) and yet I am brat, we all are. Brat spoke to us and is for us. Beyond the genius marketing and branding, the stratospheric success of Charli’s sixth studio album lies in her authentic celebration of messiness and volatility. She has repackaged what it means to be a ‘hot mess’ — Brat is less patronising and more empowering. She’s not applying concealor to cover up her bruises on tour nor plucking her burgeoning mono brown, she’s not ozempic thin. Mostly she’s Hot with a capital H.
Much like her music, we can’t squeeze Charli into a fashion box for she’s a little bit emo, a little bit 2000s it girl, a little bit avant garde goth (see her Ann Demeulemeester look for the Met Ball) and she leaves us wanting more. Other than the McQueen skull scarf she donned at Glastonbury (again, very 2000s) it’s rare to recognise who Charli is wearing, which is yet again another genius move from her. She’s taking the attention away from her clothes or lack of them (ok grandma) and onto her spellbinding performance. Glastonbury was the epitome of this less is more mantra.
Yes she could have brought Lorde on stage (who was indeed at the festival) or any of the other brat collaborating artists like she had at other concerts but this was her primetime Glastonbury spot. Why should she share it with anyone? We didn’t see a single dj or dancer and we didn’t miss them. It was just Charli in all of her grotty glory— writhing, strutting, booty shaking, hair flicking, crawling across the stage. Lasers were firing, strobes were flashing, she had a suitably obnoxious amount of speakers. Bliss. We weren’t in a field, we were in a superclub.
In comparison to other crowds at Glastonbury, there was an overarching sense of safety amongst the Charli fans. Yes we were having (maybe illegal?) fun and mean girl energy might have been encouraged, but truly there’s no kinder space than a crowd of 60 000 sweaty and adoring fans. We’ve got each others t-shirt soaked backs.
Throughout the entirety of the weekend you could shout “365” and know that someone would immediately yelp back “party girl!” Same could be said for my long suffering friend Willa who endured me asking “Hey Billie are you there?” when trying to catch her attention, or when I felt like I was losing her in a crowd. Gee I’m so needy.
It was fun to walk around the festival and spot the Charli girlies. They were on the right side of the y2k trend (not the Olivia Rodrigo side. No shade on her but it’s too school-girl sexy and polished for my taste) make up free in a stomping boot, masking last nights hangover behind mandatory black rave shades.
For those who call Charli’s music “noise” let me guide you to her awards cabinet (although I highly doubt she has one of these. Feel like she’s more likely to fashion one into a wig stand or kitchen roll holder or something). Ladies and gentleman Charli won 4 Grammys, 2 Ivor Novellos, 5 Brit Awards and that’s just this year.
And for the autotune haters, see her bratty and brilliant responses on x:
By the way, this piece has taken me f***ing ages to write because I kept pausing to watch her interviews/performances/hilarious instagram videos/getting up to dance to her songs. Charli adores the internet and the internet adores her. I love watching her talk about the album for she is it. That sounds pretentious and blindingly obvious but it’s rare to watch someone so visibly impassioned by their work. You can see it consumes her and lights her up. Why should we leave it there?
I declare brat summer is not over. You didn’t hear it here first.
