Tag: Lola Brooke

In 2000, Destiny’s Child heralded the dawning of the new century by unveiling “Independent Women Part I.” On the heels of TLC’s “No Scrubs,” released the year before in 1999, “Independent Women Part I” built on an increasingly beloved notion: women being financially independent of men (who were effectively useless anyway without finances of their own to offer). Although the 1980s and 1990s had seen a glimmer of this in the “working mom” trope or the shoulder pad-packed skirt suit that Melanie Griffith immortalized in Working Girl, the “novelty” of “sisters doing it for themselves” had worn off by 2000, and it seemed time to make more robust strides than merely being a woman “allowed” to contribute to the capitalist machine. Now, women wanted to be truly “independent”—no man, no shared bank account, just her and her bag.

The tie-in of the song to a movie reboot of Charlie’s Angels starring Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz and Lucy Liu was key to not only highlighting the independent women gains made by said gender since the 1970s, when Charlie’s Angels initially aired on TV, but also the fact that women are everyday superheroes. Their ever-changing “costumes” (read: drag) all being part of the many disguises and personas they wear to appeal and cater to a cadre of different people (usually fragile men). And, speaking of “catering,” it seems antithetical that another Destiny’s Child song, “Cater 2 U,” was released as a single five years after “Independent Women Part I”—and expressed a much different message that fundamentally negates Beyoncé’s brand as a “feminist.” But anyway, in 2000, “Independent Women Part I” was a beacon of light. A surge of hope, a boost of confidence. Especially to women who were afraid that the twentieth century might never let them go (and yet, lo and behold, here we are in the twenty-first and things seem much less progressive than they were in the twentieth thanks to, oh, the repeal of Roe v. Wade for a start). Here to help remind women of that pivotal instant (while simultaneously bolstering an unsustainable system called capitalism) is Ciara. Wont to emulate Janet Jackson in the past (see: “Jump”), this time, she’s going for straight-up 2000-era Destiny’s Child as she gets Lola Brooke and Lady London to join her on the “Girls Mix” of “Da Girls,” likely to appear on her eighth studio album along with “Jump” and “Better Thangs” featuring Summer Walker.

In case there was any question about whether or not this was Ciara’s update to “Independent Women Part I,” she commences the song with the chorus, “This is for the girls gettin’ money/This is for the girls that don’t need no man/This is for the girls that’s in love with theyself/This for all the girls that done did it by theyself/This for all the girls that’s I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T.” Really driving the point home by literally spelling out the connection. And, considering that 2023 already started out with a sologamy bang via Miley Cyrus’ “Flowers,” it’s no surprise that other women in music should keep emphasizing the “trend.” As though independence is a “monetizable moment.” But then, of course it is—just as monogamy has been for centuries (and still is despite “falling out of fashion”). To bring it all back to the current “I can buy myself flowers” perk/emblem of being an independent woman, Ciara even sings at one point, “I wanted some flowers/Mr. Wilson pulled up in a Rolls (skrrt).” “Mr. Wilson” alluding to her husband presumably pulling up with the flowers she wanted—which makes it slightly less independent-sounding. One would have preferred to think of “Mr. Wilson” as a flower delivery service (or even a reference to Mr. Wilson’s flower in Dennis the Menace). That would have at least entailed she can not only buy herself flowers, but have them show up to her house without lifting a finger, too.

As for the accompanying video, the original favors a certain Billie Eilish in “Lost Cause” vibe (itself a riff on “34+35 Remix” visuals) as her girls come over to hang out, dance around, eat, drink and generally frolic. This is what it is meant when Cyndi Lauper says, “Girls just wanna have fun.” In the “Girls Mix” version, the concept isn’t much changed, swapping out the “rando” women at Ciara’s house in favor of just Lola Brooke and Lady London—helping Ciara (the “Beyoncé” of the outfit) to complete a trio à la Destiny’s Child (or Charlie’s Angels). And for their version of “Independent Women Part I,” Brooke is sure to give a direct nod to Beyoncé by saying, “Gonna rock these pants like a freakum dress,” after which Lady London declares, “This is for the girls on the grind/This is for the girls that done worked full-time/This is for the self-made girls, yeah, the self-paid girls.” It’s all certainly enough to make someone like Betty Draper blush with embarrassment, as though her “reliance” on a man (read: a monogamous situation that reinforces capitalism) is shameful, her invisible labor within the domestic sphere meaningless. But anyway, such women are supposed to be “relics,” right? Nonexistent in the climate of the present.

Meanwhile, on “Independent Women Part I,” Kelly Rowland (in conjunction with ex-DC member Farrah Franklin, not Fawcett) sings, “The shoes on my feet, I bought ’em/The clothes I’m wearing, I bought ’em/The rock I’m rocking, I bought it/‘Cause I depend on me if I want it/The watch I’m wearing, I bought it/The house I live in, I bought it/The car I’m driving, I bought it.” One can tell how this would also presage Ariana Grande declaring, “I see it, I like it/I want it, I got it” on “7 Rings,” yet another anthem championing female-centric materialism (diamonds, hair extensions, clothes, etc.) as a form of independence. And while, sure, she might be financially independent, she still leans on/plays into the oppressive system that men/patriarchy wield to keep most people in check. Women included. The idea that becoming “independent” means fully embracing capitalism (as any male industrialist would), however, is both naïve and reductive. And it’s hardly tantamount to “equality.” All it serves to do is bolster neoliberal practices by making women think they’re “free” because they have purchasing power. And by fortifying that illusion to other women in a song format, what it really amounts to is more propaganda for capitalism under the guise of “progress.”

From Grande saying, “My receipts be lookin’ like phone numbers/If it ain’t money, then wrong number” to Ciara repurposing the same flex with, “Bank account look like phone numbers/All of our checks got four commas,” the message is clear: be like a man. Make money. Rely on “yourself.” All while simultaneously relying on the very system that allows oppression to flourish. It’s not exactly “feministic” in the spirit that many women would like to believe. But since the end of capitalism feels unimaginable, perhaps women are just doing their best to work within it while there’s still money to be made before all resources are plundered and life veers into Mad Max territory.

Ironically, Beyoncé herself had no agency in getting “Independent Women Part I” onto the Charlie’s Angels Soundtrack. It was actually her “dadager,” Matthew Knowles, who submitted the track without her permission/knowledge. So much for, “Try to control me, boy/You get dismissed.” But apparently, being “independent” is overrated when it works to your bank account’s advantage. What’s more, “donating” the single (which was originally supposed to be “Independent Women Part II” released on their ’01 album, Survivor) to Charlie’s Angels isn’t quite indicative of promoting “independent” women, per se. After all, the three women in question aren’t just Angels, are they? They’re Charlie’s Angels. They “belong” to Charlie. And the trio seems to have no problem with that, nor any desire to truly break out on their own, independent of their invisible Daddy figure.

At one point in the song, Beyoncé sings, “Do what I want, live how I wanna live/I worked hard and sacrificed to get what I get/Ladies, it ain’t easy being independent.” No, it’s certainly not. Especially since “independence” still comes at the cost of fucking Mother Earth up the asshole and acting little better than a man with a burgeoning bank account.