The Sobering Reality of Brat Summer
What’s that one tweet? Like “heat wave’s been sucking me off or whatever glass animals said”
When I’m in the club, yeah I’m bumpin’ that, I mutter to myself as minute 16 of waiting for the G train ticks by, three-six-five, party girl bumpin’ that. I place a hand on my lower back and feel the squish of sweat against my palm. I have never been unhappier.
Summer zaps the spirit out of me. The heat encourages my eyelids to droop, cancel plans that require my body to go outside of my apartment, and dodge AC droplets that could give me a Broad City-level eye infection. My body is heavier than ever (mentally, physically, though I’m purposefully avoiding the scale) during this smoked season. I’m chanting daily affirmations that it’s okay to rest from the relentless need for productivity, that I don’t have to indulge in our national grindset when my limbs feel like molasses. I’m tormented by wanting to wear short dresses that show my ass when the wind flares up but also never leave my IKEA couch. My childhood summers were filled with dread, and my adult ones grew into a similar angst; a never ending summer vacation is my worst nightmare.
But the release of “brat” by Charli XCX injected some hope into a season that’s hit all time boiling temperatures. We’re all angrier as the world descends into neoliberal chanting and paperthin excuses for an ongoing genocide start to set into political stone. “brat” came to us on an altar, propagating a season that could be equal doses fun and existential, a hit of weed here and musing over getting your IUD taken out there.
As Glamour’s recent explainer on the success of brat summer (which, once the trend has to be spoonfed to the masses, it’s all a bit over) asserts, the thesis of the album, and the summer it’s induced, is how “all this feral party-girl energy is laced with a vaguely unsettling dose of millennial anxiety.” Charli herself says a “brat” is feeling yourself while also having a breakdown. The inherent contradictions of the term mean you can care about the world AND have fun; what a flawless, novel win.
So really, having the beautiful dream of brat summer shattered by its own ethos was inevitable. When Charli – and when I say Charli, I always mean her, her marketing team, her publicist(s), and whatever small army most pop stars have to uphold the illusion of who they are – decided to tweet three damning words a few days ago, it was over. “kamala IS brat,” she declared on X after the Vice President was announced as the new Democratic nominee. And with that, a summer of debauchery and depression came to an end.
What has followed since Charli’s X post are the typical pinnings of internet trend. Brat green has become superimposed on various images of Kamala Harris in coconut pastiche. Various official Kamala Harris accounts have rebranded to accommodate the trend. NBC News has even (fittingly) made a Venn diagram of Harris and Charli’s similarities. As Vox’s Rebecca Jennings points out, candidates have long benefited from memeability that allows them to “transcend politics and become a legible cultural brand.” They capitalize on what hot and cool way they can secure the vote and cement their positions. Even NYC Mayor Eric Adams has jumped on the brat bandwagon (to little fanfare or success, obviously). But in Harris’ case, Charli has done all the heavy lifting for her; all she and her campaign has to do is lean in.
Candidates no longer pride themselves on standing on a detached pedestal of moral superiority and instead lean into what makes them most relatable. Sometimes, that works, like for New York City Council Member Chi Ossé using TikTok to encourage young people to show up to support his Fairness in Apartment Rental Expenses (FARE) Act and get involved in their community. Most of the time, these tendencies expose a hollow charm and lack of care that we know to expect from politicians, but rarely see fully displayed. No one below a certain age is eating up a single politician appearance on Saturday Night Live, but they will be talking about hating it.
But this American pastime of political spectacle feels like the opposite of brat summer’s raw musings. Songs off of “brat” now sound a bit more off-key; so Julia sounds like so Kamala, “B2B” feels like a natural comeback song for Harris to walk onstage to during next month’s DNC. NBC News reporters Kat Tenbarge and Daysia Tolentino note that Harris’ kooky image isn’t the exact reflection of Charli’s vision of brat, but does play into its sense of righteous individuality. What felt like a canonical depiction of aging into our late 20s and early 30s now feels like a conduit for a former prosecutor’s dreams of political power.
It’s nearly August. The election is a blink away. The coincidentally neon green-colored G Train’s tardiness is a betrayal that cuts equally deep as the quick bastardization of the Charli XCX album. I’m still sweaty, still listening to “brat” (AOTY incoming), finding new, oxymoronic pleasures in getting older and none the wiser. The album’s popularity has propelled it into universal praise (good) and into an unnecessary, inevitable political stratosphere that comes with late stage capitalism (ugh). We can separate the artist from how they use their art all we want, but ultimately, the armor of brat summer has been undeniably tarnished. As a friend succinctly put it, “[The apple has] rotted to the core or whatever that song says.”
Also, sorry for being gone for so long! I visited my family in China and I simply haven’t recovered fully since then.
Here’s a new section I’m calling HK HQ URLS, which is an annoying set of acronyms that is an essentially a link dump to what Horniness Kills Headquarters has been consuming and doing. If you have no care for this stuff, nooo worries.
HK HQ URLS
A friend of mine and I discussed how Cheat Week at The Cut was always going rely on tawdry and salacious details, but the best part of any theme week’s coverage is a Shannon Keating piece. Yes, she’s the one who went on a lesbian cruise and rediscovered herself and met the love of her life + became one half of one of the most beautiful couples who are, I'm sure, extremely normal. The excuses she discusses that cheaters use is worth diving into for another time, but wow, do we have such a cultural fascination and damning of those of “cheat.”
Bennifer Divorce Watch is the first thing I think about when I wake up, go to bed, brush and floss my teeth. I won’t be surprised if it’s over but I’ll be deeply sad forever.
Halima Jibril wrote an evergreen reminder about the ways we criticize plastic surgery on reality television over at Dazed. As someone constantly toying with getting my genetic double chin surgically sucked off, it’s important to remind ourselves the various ways we’re influenced to want these modifications.
Speaking of which, Love Island USA has picked up its colonizer’s slack and made one of the best seasons of reality television ever. I broke my own rules and listened to podcasts like Call Her Daddy & Chicks in the Office for the first time just so I could hear Rob act like my boyfriend if he hadn’t shaped up, Serena & Kordell be soulmates + Kenny adoringly gazing at Jana as God intended, and Leah live up to her reputation (times it by a million, etc). I’m linking to Kaylor’s interview on Viall Files, which I read a summary of on Reddit and please, please say it with me: Kaylor, that man does not care about you! Break up with that Harry Jowsey tethered!!!
I wake up and think about buying this bag. Please tell me not to. Or tell me to? I just want a slouchy red hobo bag with a chain that can Russian doll multiple smaller bags of combs, chapsticks, and tchotchkes. I want to Mary Poppins this bag and then deck it out in childhood Sanrio merch. If you say I shouldn’t you’re right.
What I missed in horny:
🐘Ellie the Elephant🐘
I’m not here to wax poetics over the WNBA as a newcomer. People have done that, and more eloquently than I could have. I’m here to report on the most fun part of my first WNBA game: New York Liberty’s own mascot, Ellie the Elephant.
Ellie – also affectionately known as Big Ellie – is high energy, instantly recognizable, and universally beloved. She’s done what other mascots have failed to do, and become an essential part of the game itself. A New York Liberty game is not complete without its players or Ellie. There have been dozens of voices probing into how and why Ellie managed to become the single greatest mascot in American sports, but all credit always goes to the Liberty team (particularly CEO Keia Clarke) for creating a mascot that embodies Brooklyn’s spirit so entirely.
Challengers
Well, well well. Look at what you’ve done to me, Luca! I’m squirming like an earthworm in the darkness of a BAM theater full of bisexual polycules while Zendaya leans back and serves her signature smirk that only occasionally lands as she watches her two offbrand Ken dolls kiss. Challengers was thrilling to experience opening weekend and a woman profusely complimented me on a pair of $200 shoes I accidentally purchased a few months prior. Win-win on all fronts.
See you next week <3 I’m going home and helping my parents eliminate our excess. I’m toying with writing a piece containing some key childhood artifacts.