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Tag: Doja Cat music videos

  • An Album for the Patrick Bateman Bros: Doja Cat Is An 80s Lady on Vie

    After releasing the deliberately polarizing Scarlet in 2023 (followed by a reissue called Scarlet 2 Claude in 2024), Doja Cat seems to have done yet another swing back in the opposite direction. One that is aimed more toward the very genre she claimed she was running as far and fast away from as she could back in 2023, when she tweeted, “Planet Her and Hot Pink were cash-grabs and y’all fell for it.” Further describing the content on those records as “mediocre pop.” At the time, a great many fans were upset by the comment, while others insisted it was all somehow part of her Scarlet persona. And maybe it was, considering Doja would, as of this year, describe that album as a “massive fart” that just needed to be released. A way to express her anger and rage over a few things, including not being “taken seriously” as an artist. So it was that she explained in an interview with The New York Times, “Not to diminish it, but it was a bit of like, I just need to get this out—it was a massive fart for me. I thought fixing that would entail making music that was more visceral or more emotional or maybe more angry or more sad. And I enjoyed performing it onstage, but it didn’t get me all the way there. So I want to return back to what I know.”

    And return she has. Not just to the pure pop that Hot Pink and Planet Her embodied, but also even farther back than that, all the way to the 80s (though Doja herself was born in 1995). Because, sure, it’s been “a while” since someone wielded that shtick, with the most recent notable example being Dua Lipa’s 2020 album, Future Nostalgia, drenched in the same 80s-centric stylings on Vie, which marks Doja Cat’s fifth record in seven years (with 2018’s Amala being her debut). But Doja takes it more than just a few steps further than Lipa in terms of centering the album’s entire universe in the 80s. Because it’s not just a sound, it’s a world, with Doja committed to staying in character while inhabiting that world. This, of course, extends to her visual accompaniments—whether it’s the music videos she’s released thus far (see: “Jealous Type” and “Gorgeous”)—or the album variants that feature her on the cover in various 80s getups (particularly the Quality Time vinyl edition). All of this proving the accuracy of what she told Michelle Miller of CBS Sunday Morning: “I’m always wanting to, like, create a character, like, create some sort of narrative and theme and world. World-building.”

    To establish that world immediately on Vie, Doja begins with “Cards,” which, for about the first fifteen seconds, sounds like it could be something from a Blood Orange album (it’s the saxophone). But then, with its production from Y2K, Gavin Bennett and Jack Antonoff (who worked on nine of the fifteen tracks, and who makes music that usually sounds 80s-esque anyway), the song bursts forth in some very Janet Jackson circa Control type of glory. This as Doja opens with the chorus, “A little more back and forth/A little more catch and throw, baby/The more we can clear this smoke/A little further I’ll go/Maybe in time, we’ll know/Maybe I’ll fall in love, baby/Maybe we’ll win some hearts/Gotta just play your cards.” The up-tempo pace of the track instantly establishes the exuberant tone that Doja is going for, in addition to ruminating on her love of romance—intermixed with sex, of course. This intoxicating combination evident in the lines, “If you play fair, stranger/It’s all you could eat while I lay there, stranger” (that word, stranger, also being the title of track six on Vie). At the same time, Doja exhibits the shyness of a girl looking for true love when she says, “I’m enough to wait for/Move too quick and you off the roster.”

    As the saxophone plays us out of “Cards,” Doja’s warning fittingly transitions into “Jealous Type.” For it’s apparent that once she (or her “character”) does open her heart to someone, she’s not liable to let them “muck about” with others so readily. Once again starting the song with the chorus (which will be a common occurrence on Vie), Doja soon asks the question, “Could be torn between two roads that I just can’t decide/Which one is leading me to hell or paradise?” This meaning that Doja can’t quite decide between remaining “dulcet” or going full AK-47 in terms of expressing her feelings of jealousy. Something she does manage to convey regardless in the second verse, rapping, “And if she really was a friend like you said she was/I would’ve been locked in, but I called your bluff/No girl enjoys trying to tough it out for a party boy/Everyone wants you and you love all the noise.” In a sense, it’s almost like she’s channeling Evelyn Richards in American Psycho (whose name is changed to Evelyn Williams [played by Reese Witherspoon] in the film version), who has some similar sentiments toward Patrick Bateman.

    And yes, needless to say, this is probably exactly the type of album that, had it actually been released in the 1980s, Bateman would have been sure to pontificate about in one of the chapters. Granted, Bateman couldn’t cover every piece of 80s pop culture, including Knight Rider, which is not one of the things he finds worthy of mentioning at any point in American Psycho. Doja Cat, however, seems to figure that, since Vie is an “80s album,” the Knight Rider theme is a natural fit for “AAAHH MEN!,” even though Busta Rhymes already locked down that sample in 1997 with “Turn It Up (Remix)/Fire It Up.” What’s more, it seems that Antonoff enjoys working on tracks wherein female singers make a play on words using “men” and “amen” (hear also: “Manchild”).

    Of course, Doja has more of a legitimate reason to wield the Knight Rider theme than Busta in that she raps, “And if had more common sense/Then I would grab my ride and dip.” She also adds to that sentiment, “And I have too much tolerance/You ugly and fine as shit.” That latter dichotomous line referring to how a man can be aesthetically foyn, but still repulsive “on the inside,” thanks to his “personality” (or lack thereof). Even so, Doja seems always willing to take a chance on romance. Even with the knowledge that romance so often gives way to reality, ergo a loss of the rose-colored glasses that can then lead to so much tension and fighting. Thus, a need for “Couples Therapy,” which happens to be track four on Vie.

    It’s this sweeping, lush song that particularly conjures Doja telling Jimmy Fallon, “I’m very inspired by Janet. I’m very inspired by Michael and Prince.” And yet, there’s even brief auditory glimpses of Aaliyah (specifically, “Rock the Boat”) as Doja narrates the problems of some other couple, rather than speaking about herself or her own relationship. This bringing to mind the distinction of her writing process that she made to Miller on CBS Sunday Morning, noting, “When I’m writing, I’m writing about situations in general. I’m not really, um, always pulling from my personal life” and “I love to talk about love. I love to talk about, um, you know, relationships and dynamics and things like that.” Carrie Bradshaw would tend to agree.

    Interestingly, “Couples Therapy” starts out with Doja talking about a relationship from the third person perspective before switching to the first: “She just wants him to be involved/He just wants her to finally notice/They just need one more push to cope/Can we both detangle our souls?/This argument’s been in the oven/We can’t always be in control.” This, in fact, channels Madonna’s 1989 “divorce track” from Like A Prayer, “Till Death Do Us Part,” on which she sings with the same perspective shift, “Our luck is running out of time/You’re not in love with me anymore/I wish that it would change but it won’t/‘Cause you don’t love me no more/He takes a drink, she goes inside/He starts to scream, the vases fly/He wishes that she wouldn’t cry/He’s not in love with her anymore.” Yes, maybe Madonna and Sean just needed couples therapy—though it wasn’t as “chic” in the 80s to seek that kind of help. Just ask The Roses.

    But, at least after becoming newly divorced and/or single again, a person can feel like their former “Gorgeous” self. This being the second single from Vie after “Jealous Type.” And yes, with this particular track, Doja is sure to cover a different kind of romance: the kind that somebody has with themselves a.k.a. self-love. So it is that Doja remarked of “Gorgeous”: “[It’s] not about being in a relationship with someone else, it’s about how you relate to yourself and how you feel about yourself. And that was something that I really wanted to kind of convey in this song.” Which she definitely does (“I mean I only got myself to appeal to [I do]),” along with the feeling that this should be playing during one of Gia Carangi’s photoshoots (the lyric, “She wanna be chic when it’s inspired by heroin” being especially resonant). Or during one of Bateman’s murder sprees. Either way, it’s among the most 80s songs of Vie, which really means something (this along with the fact that Charli XCX’s newly-minted husband, George Daniel, is one of the co-writers and co-producers). In fact, it’s almost like Doja took a page out of The Weeknd’s playbook for this entire record, for he’s been dipping into that 80s sound well for a while, especially since 2020’s After Hours.

    And it would track that Doja could have been inspired as much by The Weeknd as any pop artist from “back in the day,” for she’s no “Stranger” to collaborating with him, having done so on a remix of his 2020 song “In Your Eyes” and in 2021 for “You Right” from Planet Her. Who knows, maybe she even has him partially in mind when she opens “Stranger” with, “We could be strange/At least we’re not the same.” Later, she’ll add, “And I believe the weirdest ones survive.” This echoes one of Madonna’s recent aphorisms on Jay Shetty’s On Purpose podcast, during which she declared, “Not fitting in is what saves you.” Granted, Doja speaks on some pretty normie couple behavior when she says, “Call me over to watch some White Lotus.” This perhaps serving to remind listeners that she did make a song with one of season three’s cast members, LISA—namely, “Born Again,” which also features RAYE. Not to mention her fairly basique nod to Kill Bill for the “Stranger” video. But, in any case, it’s a sweet song, and one that relishes the joys of finding one’s fellow “weirdo” in life.

    With that in mind, Doja seems only too pleased to make her fellow weirdo “All Mine” on the following track, which features a prominent nod to Grace Jones, both in sound, tone and, well, the opening sample of dialogue. Dialogue that comes from Conan the Destroyer, with Princess Jehnna (Olivia d’Abo) asking Zula (Jones), “How do you attract a man? What I mean is, suppose you set your heart on somebody. What would you do to get him?” to which Zula instantly replies, with the same “savagery” as a man, “Grab him, and take him.” Or what a certain Orange Creature, especially during his 80s heyday, would rephrase as “grab ‘em by the dick.” That Conan the Destroyer was released in 1984 only intensifies Doja’s commitment to the “world building” of Vie, which exists solely in the 80s (complete with her public appearances in promotion of the album, during which she’s dressed in attire befitting said era). Save, of course, for the lyrical content itself.

    In the spirit of Zula’s advisement, Doja croons in tune with the mid-tempo track, “I ain’t waiting around, yeah/I’ll be taking him out, yeah/‘Cause I’m only about him/Wanting what we want/Claiming what we claim/Make you say my name/And I’m all yours/It can’t bе my fault/This street goes both ways/Let a giver takе/You’re all mine, boy.” In this sense, Doja channels a time when women were only really just coming into their own as independent people capable not only of being seen as a man’s “equal” (which really isn’t hard to do considering how subpar most men are), but being able to “claim” in the same way—or so one would have liked to believe—without incurring as much judgment as they would have in the past. And in the 80s, it was not so “past” at all, considering the fact that most women couldn’t even open their own bank accounts in the U.S. until the passage of the Equal Credit Opportunity Act of 1974. Considering that Doja is very much the type of woman who needs to have her own bag, the 80s are probably about as far back in time as she would be willing to go (not to mention the fact that a Black woman further back than the 80s didn’t have much in the way of rights either).

    To be sure, it wouldn’t have been half as easy for a woman to simply command, “Take Me Dancing,” as both Doja and SZA do on the song of the same name. Teaming up yet again after the stratospheric success of “Kiss Me More” (which even broke Brandy and Monica’s “The Boy Is Mine” record for the “longest-running all-female Top 10 hit on the Billboard Hot 100”), SZA commences the track with the repetition of the demand, “Baby, take me dancing tonight.”

    Once she makes her desires known, Doja then comes in with the chorus, “You’re so raw, boy, and you’re so romantic/When you fuck me right and then you take me dancing/It gets lonely out here in this big old mansion/In these hills cooped up, boy, can you take me dancing?” Clearly speaking from the perspective of someone who lives in L.A. (with Doja herself being a native), it’s almost as if Doja is intending to channel Norma Desmond if she were living in the 80s instead of the 50s.

    While not as lyrically varied as “Kiss Me More,” “Take Me Dancing” is just as “boppable,” and surely worthy of a music video that finds Doja and SZA hitting the clubs of Los Angeles through an 80s lens (which must surely be less derivative than the very Britney concept they “came up with” for the “Kiss Me More” video). Maybe even one with a Maxxxine-inspired slant.

    On “Lipstain,” Doja actually says she doesn’t wanna dance. Well, that is, metaphorically speaking, beginning the song with the declaration, “I don’t wanna dance around it/Talkin’ ‘bout our love is easy.” So easy that it even makes her “speak in tongues”—a.k.a. French (e.g., “Tu es ma vie et mon tout/Et tout le monde le sait” and “Laisse-moi embrasser ton cou”). And why shouldn’t she? Considering that Vie is named in honor of the French word for “life,” of which Doja remarked to CBS Sunday Morning, “That means life and I feel like you can’t have life without love.” “Vie” not only means “life” in French, as in, “tu es ma vie,” but it also derives from the Roman numeral V, and Doja wanting to reference this being her fifth record. One that shows a side of her that perhaps wasn’t as noticeable before. The romantic side (after all, that doesn’t come across in such previous lyrics as, “If she ain’t got a butt/Nah, fuck it, get into it, yuh”). Which is why Doja was prompted to explain of the consistent theme, “This album is very much about love in a way that reflects how I want it to be in the future—my hope, my hopefulness. What I hope it could be. Because I remember there was a time when people were talking about wanting to be with each other, and it seems to have gotten a bit more vapid and just sort of like, not real… Not loving, not romantic.”

    But it is “romantic,” in its retro way, to want to “mark your man” (as Peggy Olson would call it) with a bit of lipstick on his collar…and elsewhere. Or, as Doja calls it, a “lipstain.” This said when she sings, “Kiss you on the neck on purpose/So they know my favorite lipstain.” The “they” being other women that might try to “holla.” A fear that prompts Doja to note, “We gotta mark our territory for them dogs, girl.” That’s certainly how Britney felt on “Perfume” when she used the eponymous beauty product to talk about marking her own territory via the lyrics, “And while I wait, I put on my perfume/Yeah, I want it all over you/I’m gonna mark my territory.” For Doja, though, lipstick will suffice.

    And, talking of Britney, Doja very much gives off 00s-era Britney energy on the lyrics for “Silly! Fun!” (a song that matches the playful exclamations in its title) when she sings (while oozing pure exuberance), “Wouldn’t it be fun if we went to a party?/Wouldn’t it be fun to fall deep for somebody?/I know it could be a blast to just pop out a baby/And we’re so very silly getting married in Vegas.” Spears did all of those things and then some in the 00s, but Doja wants to “make it 80s” with her musical spin on such a narrative (one that she calls her homage to lovebombing). And yes, “Silly! Fun!” definitely offers the kind of jubilance-inducement one would expect of such a title, practically begging its listeners to snort cocaine to this soundtrack. It also echoes the theme of “Stranger,” reiterating the idea that Doja has found someone to match her freak, so to speak (and to quote a Tinashe song rather than a Doja one)—and that she’s all the better/happier for it. As made further apparent when she gushes, “You’re my person, this my first time, I’m in love/Those men were practice in my past.”

    On “Acts of Service,” this talk of finding “my person” continues immediately, with Doja asking the question, “Would it mean that I found my person/When the language is acts of service?” The “language” she’s referring to obviously being “love language,” of which there are five categories: acts of service, words of affirmation, quality time, gifts and physical touch (all five have Vie vinyl variants named in their honor). And so, if Doja can find that “special someone” who speaks her language, in addition to embodying some of the other ones, then, “Please, this is an achievement.”

    The slow tempo and “boudoir-ready” sound, co-produced by Fallen, Stavros and Kurtis McKenzie, is yet another example of the Janet Jackson inspiration on the album. Though, of course, the rapped portions of the song are all strictly Doja, especially when she says, “Yeah, said I/I just deleted Raya/That must mean that I’m your provider/That just mean I’ma be your rider.” Something about this verse feeling like a nod to the Joseph Quinn drama that happened earlier this year, with some outlets reporting that Quinn was “caught” on the dating app for “posh” people (a.k.a. celebrities [or even just “influencers”]) while still “with” Doja (much like David Harbour when he was married to Lily Allen). Either way, it’s a pointed remark. Perhaps the kind that would later prompt Doja to “Make It Up” to her love with an apology. This song having the kind of sound that makes one think of Prince taking a bubble bath (or maybe even think of Vivian Ward [Julia Roberts] taking a bubble bath while listening to Prince).

    To that point, Doja asks her lover in the second verse, “Can I run your shower?/Can I fill the tub?” So it is that Doja obviously wants to keep the acts of service love language going. And, in a certain sense, “Make It Up” also has shades (no pun intended) of Ariana Grande’s “make up,” a song from thank u, next about, what else, make up sex as Grande urges, “And I love it when we make up/Go ‘head, ruin my makeup” (so yeah, it’s sort of like 50 Cent rhyming “nympho” with “nympho”). In a similar fashion, complete with using the repetition of the same word, Doja sings, “If we make love/Would I make it up to you?” In other words, would it make this person, er, come around “One More Time.”

    While Daft Punk might already have a signature song called this, Doja throws her own hat into the “One More Time” ring. Even though she, too, mostly just repeats that phrase for the chorus. Even so, the song explores the struggle of being vulnerable, especially as it pertains to allowing oneself to fall in love. Awash in the sound of “80s electric guitar,” Doja remarks, “It’s never easy/We’re willingly uncomfortable/I want you to teach me/We’re both feeling unlovable/We gotta learn to unlearn it/It’s gotta hurt if we’re burning/When we get closer, I curse it/Breaking the cycle, I know I deserve it.” In other words, she deserves to be “Happy.”

    The Marvin Gaye-esque opening of said song, the penultimate track on Vie, inevitably leads to Doja speaking more rudimentary French (as she did on “Lipstain”), incorporating the repetition of the command, “Brise/Mon coeur/Encore/Ce soir” (meaning, “Break/My heart/Again/Tonight”), in between asking, “Are you happy?/Who would get mad at you/Doing what you wanna do?” A query that sounds, in its way, like MARINA asking, “Are you satisfied/With an average life?” (on a side note: MARINA also has a song called “Happy” on Froot). But the answer to that question is, patently, Doja, who expresses being plenty mad when she says, “TLC, I saw, I creeped/She’s in our bed, I bought the sheets.” This pop culture reference not being 80s at all, but peak 90s. Alas, Doja can’t keep it entirely “of the time” she’s emulating, putting her own contemporary spin on the lyrics while borrowing mostly from the sound of the Decade of Excess. Which she, like many others, wants to “Come Back.”

    For this grand finale, Doja selected Antonoff as the sole producer of the song (the only other one on Vie that he produced on his own being “AAAHH Men!”). And for this big responsibility, Antonoff seemed to riff off Doja’s tone of voice to fully exude an all-out Wilson Phillips sound. To be sure, “Come Back” has a very inspirational sound in the spirit of said band (particularly their best-known hit, “Hold On”). But just because it sounds that way doesn’t mean Doja is saying things intended in that spirit. For when she sings the chorus, “Changin’ the way that you act to me/Can’t switch the tone while I’m ‘bout to leave/I worked it down till the atrophy/You missed the mark and her majesty/Beggin’ me, ‘Baby, come back to me,’” it’s evident that Doja has reached her threshold on giving love—or at least this particular love—a chance.

    In this regard, “Come Back” is like Doja’s version of “Goodbye”—the Sabrina Carpenter track that concludes Man’s Best Friend (and yes, Antonoff co-wrote and co-produced that song, too). For, like Carpenter, Doja is sending a big kiss-off message to the person who thought that she would always be around/come running at the drop of hat. In both songs, each woman emphasizes that this man’s sudden desire to “come back” to the relationship and (potentially) “be better” is a classic case of too little, too late. Which is exactly why Doja pronounces, “It turned you on when I told you off/I’m pleased I ain’t the bitch you was hopin’ for/If we keep this up, and you hold my doors/And you take my bag, and you hold me more/I don’t think that would make up for the hope I lost.”

    Much like the collective hope that was lost during the Decade of Excess itself, with Ronald Reagan ramping up the concept of neoliberalism (with his counterpart, Margaret Thatcher, also doing the same “across the pond”) through Reaganomics. A so-called philosophy/set of policies that served only to further dash the dreams and livelihood of the average American. Turning the U.S. into an even greater cultural wasteland that wouldn’t deign to fund the arts in general, let alone music education. Even so, compared to now, there’s no denying the 80s had a lot more luster. A far greater sense of hope and aspiration.

    To boot, in the spirit of songs from “that time,” Doja even dares to challenge her usual audience by making tracks that last well over three minutes in most cases. Which is a tall ask of a generation that’s grown accustomed to mostly only having the focus for a song that’s about two minutes, if that. So perhaps her goal really is to fully transport listeners back to that time, and remind them that while time travel might not be possible (as was “promised” in Back to the Future), the “DeLorean” that people will have to settle for in 2025 is Vie.

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Advertising, 80s Style: Look “Gorgeous” With Doja Cat-Endorsed Makeup

    It shouldn’t come as any surprise that Doja Cat’s “Gorgeous” far outshines Taylor Swift’s on the “serving cunt” front (especially since, as anyone with taste knows, Taylor has never actually “ate”). As such, an equally as cunty music video needed to be made as a worthy companion to the song itself. Enter director Bardia Zeinali, who keeps elevating his career one music video at a time (having just directed yet another for Sabrina Carpenter [following “Please Please Please”]—namely, her second single from Man’s Best Friend, “Tears”). “Gorgeous” is now amongst those elevations, with Zeinali tapping into some quintessential postmodern aesthetics for the very “80s makeup commercial”-inspired video (to the point where it’s very much the kind of thing that even Patrick Bateman could jack off to, whether literally or metaphorically).

    Initially starting with a slowly spinning shot of Doja Cat in an ultra-tailored bright pink skirt suit, accessorized with a black pillbox hat, sheer black stockings and black “fuck me pumps” while bent over as she touches her ankle, the slow burn musical introduction gives way to Doja singing the first part of the chorus, “If they wasn’t grillin’ before/They gon’ be really mad when we hit the floor/It’s a crime to be gorgeous.” This said after a black title card introduces the “brand” that is Gorgeous throughout this video. And yes, Doja and Zeinali nail the look and feel of these bygone types of commercials that so breezily conveyed an aspirational way of being. And did so in a far more glamorous manner than what Gen Z is exposed to via “influencers” on TikTok. Doja herself is technically a millennial (born in ‘95), or zillennial, if you must, so perhaps she feels inherently closer to this era when product shilling wasn’t so lusterless.

    And for those who can’t remember and/or were never exposed to such forms of advertising, Doja seems intent on making everyone well-aware of what it was like back in the “glory days” of hawking wares to the public. So it is that she holds an elegant tube of lip gloss like she’s genuinely been paid to promote it while confidently singing, “Between you and a million phones/They takin’ pictures like we hittin’ a pose/It’s alright to be honest/Even when we sit in the dark/I feel the prettiest that you ever saw/Are your eyes even open?/It ain’t ever really our fault/We make a killing being so beautiful/It’s a crime to be gorgeous.”

    Although the sound and visual for the song is fiercely 80s, the theme itself is more current than ever, with Doja addressing the ways in which comparison, particularly through the lens of social media, is the ultimate source of drawing haters and envy. This, in essence, making the art of “being hot” a crime. With the punishment often resulting in the kind of microscopic scrutiny that leads a person to get unnecessary cosmetic surgery thanks to the advent of the body dysmorphia-inducing comments section—even though those who were criticizing their looks were mostly just jealous of them. So it is that Doja also sings at one point in “Gorgeous,” “Then I got surgery ‘cause of scrutiny.” With two of her known cosmetic surgery procedures being liposuction and a breast reduction.

    Whatever she “had done,” she still seems to be radiating a natural glow while promoting the Gorgeous lip gloss collection, which features the tagline, “All we need, all we want” (a bit lazy on the copywriting front, but oh well). It’s after this point that the video/commercial starts to transition into a very 90s-esque vibe in that, all at once, a slew of some of today’s most recognizable faces in modeling appear to also look overjoyed about using this fake product. And some of those “main girls” include none other than Alex Consani, Anok Yai, Ugbad Abdi, Irina Shayk and Yseult. All in addition to Doja Cat’s own mother, Elizabeth Sawyer, who not only appears next to Doja at one point looking just as “Glamour Shot-y,” but also provides the interlude portion of the track via her recorded words of encouragement, “Babe, I just called to tell you how much I love you and how amazingly beautiful that you are. Oh my god, how uplifting and inspiring you’ve been to me for all this time. And I love you and no one even has fine hair or is smarter.” That comment on Doja’s “fine hair” being an ideal segue from the perfume ad portion of the video (that perfume being called “Gorg”) into what comes next, with the Gorgeous line also offering up hair care products (including dye), as though Doja wants to not so subtly remind people that beauty is a big business with many-pronged tentacles. An industry that continues to prey on “aspirationalism” to this day. Even though that’s more of a euphemism for “insecurity” than anything else.

    To boot, there are moments when the “Gorgeous” video, not to mention the song’s lyrical content, feels like a riff on Kelly LeBrock’s own 80s commercials for Pantene, during which she famously “pleaded,” “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” In other words, it shouldn’t be a crime to be gorgeous (especially if anyone can buy the so-called necessary products to be so—as celebrity endorsements and self-started brands would try to have consumers believe). But, soon enough, the focus shifts from hair to eyeshadow, with Doja posing in front of the array of product lines before, around the two-minute-fifty-five-second mark, the color shifts to black and white for the proverbial “BTS scenes” of Doja primping in the mirror. Except, once again, this infuses the video with more of a 90s-era vibe before returning anew to the unmistakable 80s-ness of the scenes that came before it.

    In this sense, it’s apparent that Doja and Zeinali chose to combine the best elements of advertising from both decades (with the 90s being much more all about wielding “supermodels” to generate sales/interest in a beauty product). Though, obviously, the 80s reign supreme in all things related to the Vie universe. And the “Gorgeous” video certainly cements that—in addition to the fact that advertising just ain’t what it used to be.

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Doja Cat Is An 80s Music Video Girl in “Jealous Type”

    Like Charli XCX with her 2022 video for “Baby,” Doja Cat has been very inspired by the visual cachet of 1980s aesthetics for her new era. One marked by the release of Vie, her fifth studio album. As the French word for “life” (hence, calling her tour the Ma Vie World Tour), it seems Doja wants to showcase plenty of vigor in the first single from the record, “Jealous Type.” A song with the same 80s vibe as its accompanying video, directed by Boni Mata. 

    And while Doja might have stirred controversy by previously writing Hot Pink and Planet Her off as nothing more than “cash grabs,” it seems she actually quite liked the cash, hence a return to this more “accessible” pop sound (not unlike the one that The Weeknd has been banking on for years; so perhaps Doja took a page from his 80s playbook after collaborating with him on the remix of After Hours’ “In Your Eyes”). A sound that was noticeably absent on her “adversarial” fourth album, Scarlet. What’s more, there is no producer out there that creates hit pop songs with 80s-inspired beats quite like Jack Antonoff (just ask Taylor Swift), who co-produced the song with Y2K.

    As such, from the moment Doja presses the power button on her very 80s-era electronic equipment at the start of the video, the sound is one of pure “Decade of Excess” ebullience. To boot, Doja has the confidence to commence the song with the chorus (rather than easing listeners into it), “Boy, let me know if this is careless, I/Could be torn between two roads that I just can’t decide/Which one is leading me to hell or paradise?/Baby, I can’t hurt you, sure, but I’m the jealous type/I’m the jealous type.” This, in truth, being a refreshing admission in a climate where everyone seems to be so la-di-da (and/or polyamorous) in relationships. In fact, probably not since 2013 has someone been so frank about their jealousy (hear: “Jealous” by Beyoncé). Such an “antiquated,” “unevolved” trait as it is in matters of l’amour these days.

    But since Doja Cat is technically a millennial (try as some might to bill her as a “Gen Z pop star”), perhaps she can’t help but be of a time and mindset when it was still acceptable to admit to being, well, the jealous type. Thus, the unapologetic verse, “I said, ‘You wanna do what now with who?’/I don’t need a pin drop or a text tonight/I ain’t even coming out with you/You don’t wanna show me off to your ex or your friends tonight/Nigga, you must be on molly/‘Cause y’all ain’t kick it when we started up/And if she really was a friend like you said she was/I would’ve been locked in, but I called your bluff, ha/No girl enjoys trying to tough it out for a party boy/Everyone wants you and you love all the noise/You want what you can have, but I made a choice/I’m not your type (boy, let me know).” 

    During the first portion of the video, a blonde wig-wearing Doja watches herself dressed in a leopard getup in the video projected on her wall, almost as if she’s aroused by her own image (which also isn’t out of the question in an era as narcissistic as this one, regardless of this visual being “set in the 80s” or not). Maybe that’s why she starts to strike some tantric-meets-Madonna-esque yoga poses in front of it before Mata cuts to another scene in Doja’s very Patrick Bateman-styled abode (again, just like Charli’s in the “Baby” video, except Doja’s is clearly in Los Angeles—hence, all the space).

    In this segment, she’s outfitted in red lingerie while dancing in her hallway. It doesn’t take long for another scene to start cutting into this one, with Doja now dressed in a form-fitting metallic pink dress as she dances in front of an elevator (yes, it’s quite the versatile house). All of the scenarios the viewer has seen thus far then start to sort of collide into one another, with Mata then inserting yet another new setting for Doja to be featured in: the exterior of the house (which looks like it was made in the style of a miniature from Beetlejuice). The only thing that looks more 80s than the interior. 

    Standing out front is Doja next to a limo. And in that limo is, who else, Doja. But not the same Doja, the leopard-outfitted one from the screen (side note: the other Doja ogling her outside is wearing leopard-print lingerie). Living the “glamorous life,” as Sheila E. (and now, Addison Rae) would call it. Sipping champagne in the back, perhaps too unbothered with all her wealth to worry about such petty emotions as jealousy. 

    Another swift cut then sees the various worlds of the video bleeding into each other as the red lingerie-bedecked Doja starts dancing inside the elevator where the pink metallic dress-outfitted Doja was dancing in front of. It’s in the elevator that a miraculously appearing fire sprinkler starts raining down on Doja as she’s doing her seductive dance moves. In a moment, of course, that’s not unlike what happens to Jennifer Beals as Alex Owens in Flashdance, pulling the chain above her onstage chair to make it rain…water down onto her already scantily-clad body. This being the iconic opening scene of the movie. Indeed, Flashdance was simultaneously criticized and heralded in its time for being among the first movie of its kind to emulate the “MTV style” of showcasing “non sequitur” scenes that “read” like standalone music videos rather than scenes from a movie. The same can be said of the style wielded here, which is, of course, very meta considering it is a music video in and of itself. 

    As the song comes to a close, Doja repeats the lines, “Oh, I’m jealous, baby, yeah, I’m jealous/Oh, I’m jealous, baby, I’m the jealous type.” A sentiment not unlike the 2020 Bebe Rexha single that Doja herself is featured on, “Baby, I’m Jealous” (from the much underrated Better Mistakes). And as the mélange of Doja’s various postmodern selves continue to intermingle, courtesy of what would been called “slick MTV editing” back in the 80s, she finally presses the “off” button on her “ancient” entertainment system, leaving the audience wondering if she finally got so turned on by herself that she decided to go out in that limo and pick up some sex workers, Patrick Bateman-style. 

    And, speaking of dangerous types like Bateman, since Mariah is actively looking for the “Dangerous Type,” she might very well find it in the likes of a “Jealous Type” like Doja. 

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Dolls Kill and Billie Eilish Aesthetics Permeate the Apocalyptic L.A. of Doja Cat’s “Agora Hills”

    Dolls Kill and Billie Eilish Aesthetics Permeate the Apocalyptic L.A. of Doja Cat’s “Agora Hills”

    As Doja Cat persists in her determination to prove she is “art rap” personified, she’s enlisted the help of Hannah Lux Davis (known for creating sumptuous videos for such pop stars as Ariana Grande and Charli XCX, as well as previously working with Doja on “Say So”) for her latest visual, “Agora Hills.” A video that feels almost like a companion piece to “Demons,” which Doja Cat co-directed with Christian Breslauer. Building on the same “backrooms” aesthetic from that video, Davis opens on grainy VHS footage of an empty row of showers as the camera then drops to the floor and we see a woman (probably “Scarlet”) in red heels approach the drain. The red heels being emblematic of Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz. For, after all, even though it’s spelled wrong (one wants to believe “intentionally”), the single is named in honor of Agoura Hills, the Los Angeles suburb where Amala Dlamini grew up before she was Doja Cat. Perhaps spelling it without the “u” is some kind of high school dropout flex, who knows? Anyway, it seems apparent that she wants to get the point across that “there’s no place like home.” No matter how fucked-up and apocalyptic it looks when you go back to it. 

    The harbinger of that post-disaster state is foretold by the blood soon washing down the drain of the aforementioned shower—further proof that it’s “Scarlet,” as we’ve only ever seen her covered in blood during her various cameos throughout other Doja Cat videos (including “Attention” and “Paint the Town Red”) of this era. Lux then cuts to a suburban neighborhood gone literally topsy-turvy, with Doja suspended in mid-air in the distance before descending upon the ruined L.A. earth. All in all, it has the same feel as Billie Eilish’s “all the good girls go to hell” video. But that’s not the only Billie video it appears noticeably “inspired by,” for Doja also wields the backdrop of the “dead mall” the way Eilish does in “therefore i am,” taking advantage of the Glendale Galleria’s emptiness in late 2020, during the notorious pandemic.

    But before Doja gets to the mall (a staple of “Valley culture”), she lands on the asphalt with the toes of her ballet shoes setting off sparks against the concrete, a bevy of zombie-like women behind her who, just as Doja, also look like they’ve been styled in Dolls Kill attire. And yes, although originally started in San Francisco, Dolls Kills has become something of an honorary L.A. fixture, complete with its brick-and-mortar outpost on Fairfax. And so, with these two overt L.A. icons—Dolls Kill and Billie Eilish—already so overtly at play within the video’s visual universe, Doja isn’t being quite as original or subversive as she would like to believe she is. Though, perhaps it’s only fair to “steal” the Dolls Kill vibe considering how well-known the company is for stealing from other, lesser-known designers. 

    Sampling from Troop’s 1989 hit, “All I Do Is Think of You” (itself a cover of Jackson 5’s version), Doja then proceeds to get positively mushy on this single. And, while many want to comment about how “sweet” the song is, it seems everyone has conveniently forgotten that it’s likely about her racist, sexually predatory boo, J Cyrus. So while maybe it would be sweet, it doesn’t come off that way when the listener pictures J as she sings, “Whether they like or not/I wanna show you off/I wanna show you off/I wanna brag about it/I wanna tie the knot/I wanna show you off.” The video, still in occasional “VHS style” mode, then takes us inside a seemingly abandoned house (for this entire cul-de-sac neighborhood is an eerie wasteland) where “another” Doja, this one with black hair and disgusting/haunting long acrylic toenails, is talking on the phone in a decidedly “80s teen girl” bedroom to her boyfriend in a peak “Valley girl” accent, delivering such cliches as, “No, you hang up, you hang up.”

    The scene then morphs into a new tableau with a “new” Doja. This time, the bald-headed one we’ve grown more accustomed to seeing of late. And, what a surprise, she and some of her doppelgängers (including an alter ego who’s dressed like “Kandi,” the Dolls Kill persona for their raver lines) are in another fluorescently-lit backroom. This more basement/dungeon-like than the ones prior. An interspersed scene of Bald Doja wearing a cast boot on one foot while atop a knockoff Hollywood sign that instead reads “AGORA HILLS” adds to the overall randomness. But what “logic” can be had in the post-apocalypse? And perhaps, on some level, Doja Cat realizes that one’s personal life, as a celebrity, can only be truly accepted when nobody else (apart from her arbitrarily-materializing fellow Dolls Kill models) exists on Earth to judge and condemn it. 

    As the video draws to a close, Doja takes full advantage of the dead mall setting that was initially alluded to in the shower scene that commenced “Agora Hills” in the first place. Showing up with all her fellow “Dolls,” the Eilish homage feels complete now. And, for those convinced that Doja couldn’t possibly be influenced by Billie, let it be noted that she even name checks the “other” Angeleno in “Ouchies” by saying, “A hunnid billies, I’m the G.O.A.T, no Eilish.” While it might sound like a “dig” to those who want to constantly stir the pot by creating celebrity beef where there isn’t, Doja Cat and Eilish (as fellow L.A.-born celebrities) are friendly enough, with the former attending Eilish’s twenty-first birthday last year. And perhaps the only thing that’s missing from this grab bag of a video is a cameo by Eilish herself. But, pointedly, it’s a no white girls allowed scenario. For surely, the delicate whites (no laundry pun intended) could not survive any apocalypse (despite what The Last of Us would have people believe). Unless, they’re the rich kind who pre-bought all that bunker space in New Zealand to ride out the end times.

    But for the non-rich whites, survival seems less secure. Least of all in L.A. or its outer reaches. But anyway, after Doja and her surviving sisters scurry out of the mall, Davis caps (not to be confused with what Doja means when she says, “You just cap so hard, it’s—I don’t know what to do”) the video with a scene of Doja riding her bike on a deserted street at night with a shirt that reads: “Queen of Blow Job.” Alas, there aren’t many men around to test whether or not that’s true. Except the one Doja’s hiding somewhere in a backroom until more people miraculously reveal themselves so that she can make better use of the phrase “I wanna show you off.”

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Doja Cat’s “Demons” Video Is the Scariest Thing Christina Ricci Has Ever Starred In

    Doja Cat’s “Demons” Video Is the Scariest Thing Christina Ricci Has Ever Starred In

    As one of pop culture’s main “Queens of Spook,” Christina Ricci’s presence in anything haunted, eerie, ghostly or generally “demonic” is usually a no-brainer (this being why she chose to join the cast of Tim Burton’s [highly watered-down] Wednesday in a role apart from Wednesday Addams herself…though no one will ever hold a candle to her 90s-era performance). What does feel a bit “off-brand” for the actress, however, is appearing in a Doja Cat video just because it happens to have a scary premise. And, to be sure, the Christian Breslauer/Doja-directed offering is probably the most chilling narrative (even if more than slightly filched from Poltergeist) Ricci has ever been a part of.

    Where other films of the beloved former child actress have always been in a more “light-hearted spirit” of scariness (e.g., The Addams Family and Casper), this particular addition to her “filmography” is a no holds barred fright fest with Doja in the eponymous role of one of the homogenous-looking demons that stalks the house. Opening with a “For Sale” sign that has a “Sold” sticker on it, the camera zooms in closer to said abode, its low angle pointed upward toward the bedroom before we find ourselves in the interior of that second floor, where an immediate homage to 1982’s Poltergeist can be seen as the static on the TV illuminates the room. The room that, we soon find out, belongs to Christina Ricci. Meanwhile, her children continue to sleep…totally unbothered by the demonic force that appears to relish plaguing only Ricci. Accordingly, a not-so-peacefully sleeping Ricci opens her eyes intuitively as Demon Doja crawls out from behind the TV, hangs upside down in the corner and proceeds to arrogantly demand, “How my demons look (how them demons)?/Now that my pockets full? (ayy, ayy, ayy, yeah, ayy)/How my demons look (ayy, yeah)?/Now that you bitches shook (bitch)?”

    With a backing beat that has echoes of Busta Rhymes’ 1998 track, “Gimme Some More” (which itself samples from the Psycho theme), Doja’s aggressive tone punctuates the sinister sonic landscape produced by ​D.A. Got That Dope (which doesn’t have quite the same ring as Mike WiLL Made-It). And as Ricci lies in bed seemingly paralyzed by a combination of shock and fear (so often one and the same), Demon Doja inches closer to Ricci while still on the ceiling. She then taunts her with such “flexes” as, “You look like me…in your dreams”—while said in the guise of a horrifying hellhound (this somewhat harkening back to the absurdity of Doja posting an unflattering photo of her face and labeling it a “thirst trap”). From the ceiling, she then ends up back at the edge of the bed, her claw-like hand slithering up the side of the frame in what itself feels like a nod to Freddy Krueger in Nightmare on Elm Street.

    And, on that note, the next scene takes place in the bathtub, where “Human” Doja (if there still is such a thing) sits in black, sludge-like water as the demonic hand again slithers out from the water, Krueger-style. Breslauer and Doja then pan up into the attic where Demon Doja and two doppelganger hellhounds revel in their general evilness, crawling around and growling at the camera.

    Having already directed Doja Cat’s videos for “Streets” and “Freaky Deaky” (which owes a great debt to Clueless and “Erotica”), Breslauer is no stranger to cultivating un certain aesthetic for Doja. One that often features vibrantly-hued cinematography that belies the seedy overtones of whatever theme Doja is focusing on (in the instance of “Streets,” that includes a slew of zombie-like men busting through concrete from beneath the streets to get a look at Doja writhing around on the hood of a cab). In this “Demons” scenario, that vibrancy still exists even if the muted color palette favors mostly blacks, browns and grays throughout.

    Incidentally, the one noticeable pop of red (the color associated with the devil Doja reveres so much these days), veering near pink, is the top Ricci wears after changing out of her pajamas and making a beeline for the video camera (more specifically, the kind of video camera that requires a VHS tape). Because, clearly, she’s going to want to document this demonic presence if anyone is ever going to believe her (this, too, smacking of Casper). Climbing up the ladder that leads to the attic with her weighty video camera in tow, Ricci catches a glimpse of Demon Doja in her human form again—this time wearing a shirt that reads: “Cash Cow.” Needless to say, this is an undoubted reference to 1) the fact that her first big hit was called “MOOO!” (during which she declares, “Bitch, I’m a cow, bitch, I’m a cow”) and 2) how she recently wrote off her last two records, Hot Pink and Planet Her, as unapologetic “cash grabs.”

    Pointing her flashlight in Doja’s direction, closer inspection reveals that she’s typing at a typewriter (will any of Doja’s Gen Z fans understand what that is?), in what appears to be another slight horror movie nod…this time, to Jack Torrance in The Shining. Among the “cheeky phrases” she’s writing out? “I’m a puppet, I’m a sheep, I’m a cash cow.” And yet, the animals she’s surrounded by in this scene are goats. This hardly seems like a coincidence as this particular animal is frequently associated with ritual sacrifice. And since Doja is on that dripping demonic titty lately, it makes sense. And yes, the other animals she mentions in her lyrics (cows and sheep) are also “favorites” on the ritual sacrifice front (you know, apart from virgins).

    Continuing her typing, Doja adds (in her version of Kendrick Lamar singing “Humble” intonation), “I’m the fastest-growing bitch on all your apps now/You are tired of me ’cause I’m on your ass now/You are mad at me ’cause I am all they slap now/I can nap now/Lots of people that were sleeping say I rap now/Lots of people’s hopes and dreams are finally trashed now/Lots of people say they met me in the past now/I done took the spotlight and made ’em black out/I done took the whole dick and blew my back out.” If that’s true, it still isn’t stopping Demon Doja from being diabolical through her physical movements as the video switches into “nightshot” mode in conjunction with Ricci’s video camera. All while her two now-awake children are downstairs watching the static on the TV. Because, indeed, the Poltergeist tribute remains the most consistent, with all the appliances in the kitchen going haywire as Demon Doja whirls around on a chair among her fellow demons.

    At this point, Ricci essentially throws her hands up in the air and flees the fucking scene with her kids. Recently-made down payment be damned. Better that than being damned herself due to staying in the house. It is here, too, that a deeper, more insidious symbolism arises if one is to look at the video as a study in how the proverbial white family is scared of any “black presence” that infiltrates its space. Of course, Doja doesn’t seem like the type to actually try at conveying this form of a Jordan Peele-esque statement, and yet, with “Demons,” it seems difficult to ignore such symbolism.

    Red-eyed and causing mayhem by simply “expressing herself” (however unconventionally), Doja is scaring the white folks because she’s Black and belligerent (ergo the appropriateness of a line like, “How my demons look?/Now that you bitches shook?”). A Black rage that can only be expressed by getting up close and personal enough to make someone like Ricci’s “character” actually notice it. For, once the white person closes their door, they’re even blinder than usual to racial injustice. And then, apparently, when they’re forced to be confronted with it, they have the luxury of still turning (nay, running) away from it regardless. As Ricci and her brood eventually do by the conclusion of “Demons.” But that seems to suit Doja just fine, with this result also being an additional metaphor for how little she cares about alienating (demonating?) anyone.

    Genna Rivieccio

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