There is nothing more 2010 than Katy Perry – which would be a compliment if it were 2010.
But in 2024, the 39-year-old pop star’s attempted comeback represents everything that we left in the age of shutter shades for good reason.
Perry’s new single and her first since 2021, Woman’s World, is a widely agreed upon flop, with many critics deeming it not only musically uninspired but downright offensive.
The version of feminism the song espouses is dated, with its message easily summed up in slogans – like ‘Girl power!’ and ‘Girls can be bosses too!’ – that used to be emblazoned on tween girls’ T-shirts back when Perry was first popular.
The Guardian gave it one star said they felt ‘stupider every sorry time I listened to it.’ Dazed said, ‘Woman’s World feels about as empowering as an advert for Vagisil.’
A legion of fans agreed with the critics. Reddit user @mattysmwift wrote: ‘Genuinely mean this without any snark but I’m sorry but this is giving money laundering. 2 bland verses, extremely boring repetitive chorus played twice and NO BRIDGE?!’
@satomatic agreed: ‘She seems extremely out of touch (still doing quirky cringe millennial humor from 2010) but I agree it’s still baffling.’
To make matters worse, the accompanying music video is a series of shots of scantily clad women doing traditionally masculine jobs – something Perry later claimed was meant as satire after the clamoring of critics got too loud to ignore.
While Perry’s argument isn’t very convincing in this case, it is worth noting that caricature and satire are exactly what made Katy Perry a star in the first place. It’s just not working for her anymore.
Take one of the catchiest pop songs of the 2010s, Perry’s California Gurls, for example. The cotton candy pop tune doesn’t have a whole lot more substance than Woman’s World, but in the landscape of the 2010s when Perry’s critically acclaimed Teenage Dream album came out, it not only made sense, it was empowering.
In the chorus, Perry sings: ‘Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top / Sun-kissed skin, so hot / We’ll melt your popsicle / oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.’
It’s not exactly cutting cultural criticism, but when you consider the indie sleaze of the 2000s – a time that condemned anything overtly feminine while still demanding women aim to be desirable above all else and then shamed them for that aim – there was something politically poignant about Perry’s unapologetically bubbly music.
The entirety of Teenage Dream is a little girl’s cartoon daydream mixed with a party girl’s MySpace page, and it was proud of that in a way that caught people’s attention.
Lady Gaga, who rose to fame around the same time Perry did, made pop music in the 2010s that seemed to acknowledge an encroaching darkness, a heavy contrast to the clear blue skies of Teenage Dream.
While Gaga found her niche among the troubled club kids, Perry exploded up the charts because she offered escapism that was a commentary on the state of the world.
One of the biggest differences between the two pop singers was that while Lady Gaga never seemed to be wearing a costume, Katy Perry always did. Throughout the 2010s while Gaga appeared on red carpets wholly transformed by whatever outrageous outfit she had on, Perry always read more like a little girl playing dress up.
This was exactly her appeal. Her entire brand was the fantasy of unblemished femininity, without any of the difficult realities of actual womanhood.
When she wore a blue wig with a poodle skirt or blasted whipped cream out of her bra in the California Gurls music video, it was Perry insisting on caricaturing her own femininity in a way that came as a relief to fans.
So, now, in the midst of a pop renaissance in which Sabrina Carpenter, Charli XCX, and Chapell Roan are all making waves, why isn’t Perry’s brand working?
Well, for one thing, the escapism that her music offers only connects if the realities and complexities of the feminine experience are hidden behind glossy fantasy.
Her decision to collaborate with Dr. Luke, a producer who was accused of sexually abusing popstar Kesha for years, has soured that entire image possibly irreparably.
After all, at the very least, a Woman’s World ought to include believing other women when they speak out against abusers, right? Given that Perry also became a mother to a daughter in 2020, the contradiction is particularly upsetting.
It is worth noting that some think that Perry is contractually obligated to work with Dr. Luke, but the star has yet to confirm or deny either way.
But regardless, Perry has continued to work with Dr. Luke despite backlash from fans, making it impossible for listeners to escape into her cartoon world without guilt.
Even if it weren’t for this controversy and even if her new music was catchy, in a post-Roe v. Wade era in which women’s rights and autonomy are under threat across the globe, Perry’s brand of hyper-femme play-acting is no longer appealing. Instead, it reads as almost absurdly disconnected from reality and more than a little privileged.
Teenage Dream is as if Perry took every accusation from critics who said pop was vapid, childish, and only about earworms, and used them as a recipe for how to make an album.
There’s something almost revolutionary about that kind of defiance and it resulted in a masterpiece album of pop music: Teenage Dream created five No. 1 singles in the United States (previously only achieved by Michael Jackson’s Bad) and went platinum eight times.
Now, in 2024, Katy Perry is refusing to reinvent herself, making her unable to connect with modern fans. Instead, she’s offering a cloying, almost condescending version of her former brand and forcing her fans to wonder: Are some things just better left in the 2010s?