Put Your Face On

Ariana Grande and her many faces…

My experience with Ariana Grande’s music is one of consistent appreciation while making some effort to separate the art from the artist. I am at the point now where I know her discography so well that I am able to appreciate any piece of music she releases. I no longer hear her new music as just a new song in the pop zeitgeist, but as a song in the context of Ariana Grande. I see each new release as a point in the evolution of her music, and I always seem to find ways to enjoy it upon reflection.

I first discovered Ariana Grande's music in middle school with the song “Daydreamin’” on her debut album Yours Truly. It was a cutesy pop ballad about the experience of daydreaming about a crush – in perfect taste for the 6th grade girl that I was. Ariana’s music started in the hands of young girls like me. She fed into the daydreams of beauty and stardom that many young girls had. In her debut album she sang about innocent love and embodied what it meant to be an ideal attractive girl under the male gaze. I can probably attribute a portion of my body image issues to Ariana's pop presence as the smallest woman ever.

Ariana’s petite frame brings me to the topic of her physical aesthetic, and the wardrobe most strongly associated with her. Until around 2020, you could always find Ariana in two articles of clothing – an oversized hoodie that swallowed her whole, and a pair of thigh high boots. This uniform was the embodiment of the ideal woman who could be cute and sexy at the same time. Looking small in a large hoodie made it cute, and the power walk in the heels made it sexy – it was the perfect combination.

When discussing the image of Ariana Grande, I would be remiss if I didn't mention her most iconic silhouette – the giant ponytail. Her ponytail represents a lot of the racial controversy that surrounds the pop star. A tight, high ponytail with long extensions is very common in the black and brown beauty world. Along with the ponytail, Ariana has been known to wear a very dark fake tan. In interviews, she would speak in what the internet refers to as a “blaccent” – an internet term that identifies when a non-black person speaks in a way adjacent to, or incorrectly mimicking African American English. The internet even started to make memes about it, like compilations of Ariana’s use of Black American English.

 Ariana was engaging in and appropriating the black cultural space – from working with prominent black artists like Victoria Monet and Big Sean to releasing full on trap songs like “break up with your girlfriend, im bored” from her album Thank You, Next. For a large portion of her career, Ariana’s image capitalized on popular black american sound and aesthetic.

Growing up I was always aware of how her racial cosplay was strange, but I was so into the music she was putting out. Her R&B and trap songs were simply hits. Even more, her music had a grasp on “baddie culture”. In high school I saw many instagram stories of black and brown girls posting attractive photos of themselves to Ariana’s music. She was the sound track for the side of the beauty industry that was dominated by black and brown women. So, despite the distasteful nature of her image, she was still garnering success in the very community she was appropriating.

Overall, Ariana had a chokehold on the heterosexual women of color community. She was a “bad bitch” but also cute. She had insane vocal range and agility, and worked with producers like Max Martin and Scooter Braun, who were known to crank out pop hits. She fit in perfectly to both the beauty standard and the pop industry standard, so naturally, the straight women loved her.

Interestingly, on the other end of the spectrum, her music and image were appreciated by white gay men. I've often heard her referred to as a “gay pop diva”. This could be attributed to a few things. Firstly, upbeat pop music has a large presence in gay nightlife, as the sound is colloquially referred to as “cunty” (not to be confused with the derogatory usage for women). Based on my understanding, a “cunty” song would typically be high bpm, four on the floor kick, and thick synthy chords, like her song “Break Free” – the kind of song someone might traditionally perform drag to. The second factor to her popularity in the gay community was her brother, Frankie Grande, a gay man who has always shown highest support for Ariana. As a fan, I always associated him with the reminder that Ariana is actually just a white musical theater nerd from Florida. Frankie and Ariana would always sing together promoting allyship and gay rights while nerd out over showtunes. It all made her presence strong in the gay performance community.

Ariana’s appreciation in white queer spaces and POC heterosexual female spaces put her in a very secure and powerful position in pop culture. Both demographics are dominant forces in curating mainstream media. Though, eventually the cognitive dissonance of her racial bending set in for the public, and people started to criticize her for it. This opened the pandora's box of races that Ariana pretended to be, once she had to stop cosplaying as black. Soon after the criticism, Ariana could be seen adopting the aesthetics of many other racial groups. Her racial exploration has become so popular in internet culture that her varying “alter egos” have been given nicknames like “Trapiana” or “Blackiana” for her blackfishing era, “Arigato” Grande for her asian fishing era, and many more variations. The meme culture is strong around this topic, as seen in an instagram reel comparing different videos of Ariana to the members of the diverse international kpop group Katseye.

At this point, Ariana has appropriated most cultures, but somehow she still holds a place in people's hearts. Perhaps, in a convoluted way, many different people have been able to enjoy these different aesthetics that she's tried on, all while cringing at it at the same time. Whether it's the relatability in trying on different personalities, or actually resonating with one of her “races” like I did, people keep on watching – especially, since she's returned to her roots in theater in the last few years. With this resurgence of “theater kid” Ariana, her image is now that of a white woman – in fact, she went blonde. 

This was a huge turn around, and at first I didn't love it. It seemed like all of a sudden she was this skinny blonde white girl that's just like all the skinny blond white girls I always felt separate from growing up. It was just strange because I realized her “ethnic ambiguity" may have been something I took some comfort in. I think, in a way, her subtle inauthentic brownness resonated with me in my brownness. Maybe I should talk about this in therapy, but being mixed and often feeling performative in both my brownness and whiteness, may have led me to see myself in her inauthenticity. It even feels a bit weird for me to refer to her as a white woman, even though that is exactly what she is – on some level, I think I believed she was brown.

 Along with her confusing racial image, I think over time, I got attached to this controversial figure who kept putting out content and art I enjoyed. There's something about a consistently laughable controversial character that acquires a cultish love. Trisha Paytas is another example. Trisha has been causing issues on the internet since 2007, and she's still going. After several offensive videos, being cancelled, and public manic episodes, she is still thriving with a huge following. Trisha and Ariana may be in the territory of stardom that is “uncancellable”.

Their unwavering popularity could also have to do with sympathy, due to public experiences of trauma. In 2017, a suicide bomber killed 22 people exiting an Ariana Grande concert in Manchester. Only a year later, Ariana's ex boyfriend Mac miller killed himself. I think as people watched all these tragic events take place around Ariana, they developed a willingness to let her live however she wanted.

Beyond the trauma, though, Ariana is loved because she produces hits, and executes with immense talent. Anyone following her from the beginning knows that she's had powerhouse vocals since she was 11. There's a certain level of talent that forces people to pay attention to her, and encourages them to forgive her. I think artists like her – who do wrong often but keep pulling you back with their art – are a good way for us to dissect the cognitive dissonance that occurs when we try to separate the art from the artist. This separation is especially messy in the era of social media that allows for an intense culture of parasocial relationships. We fight with each other over who makes the cut to be idolized, to the point where we neglect the actual discussions about race, and the actual racist implications of Ariana's “blackfishing”. “Fandom” culture is an overpowering capitalist system that distracts from critical discussion about art because we are too busy talking about if we are allowed to be fans or not.

Ariana has had such a journey in the public eye, and I think she represents how mainstream culture develops attachments, and can be molded over time so that the public sees a figure in whatever light they want. Her long career is proof of how controversy can be the key to success, whether it's intentional or not. It seems likely that Ariana will be remembered as a beloved pop icon, and her controversies will be forgotten by the end of her life. That's the power of a white woman and her tears. Not to discredit the impact of her trauma, but I wonder if she would still have so much success if every time she teared up on a press tour, you weren't reminded of all the healing she's had to do. You can't help but feel bad for her…then make fun of her…then feel bad for her again.  She's the controversial gift that keeps on giving.

Today, the image Ariana presents is one of a soft, sweet girl who's been through it. She emphasized the power in vulnerability, and earnestly (or maybe performatively) responds to many interactions with tears. She had a whole arch from the bubblegum star who released “Daydreamin’”, to the 2016 sexy pop diva who leaned into darker sounds and darker skin. Through her many eras, she has become a representation of the controversial figure that pop culture has taken under their wing, and keeps us confused about what we value and when we draw the line. 

The Ariana Grande playing Glinda in Wicked feels like a very different one, than I grew up with – ironically, one that is performing much less. I feel like I've had to get to know her again and again, and I’m constantly presented with reasons not to like her, but here I am, still a fan.