Cult Classic, But I Still Pop: The Imperceptible Brilliance of Charli xcx’s Von Dutch
To be fair, I wasn’t too fond of Charli xcx’s Von Dutch upon release. Similar to when she revealed her infamous puke green album cover brutishly adorned with “Brat” in Arial font, I was disgusted with the hookless, algorithm-friendly single barely clocking in 3 minutes. Perhaps the mediocrity of CRASH led me to believe that Charli’s lazy sampling in Beg For You would make a comeback in her new era featuring Von Dutch, which borrows its aggressive, winding synths from Bodyrox’s Yeah Yeah. But the goodwill of the upcoming singles, as well as Brat’s official release alleviated my skepticism for Von Dutch, especially within the context of the album as it elucidated, not detracted from, the 365 PARTYGIRL’s rich, overarching narrative.
First, let’s talk semantics. Typically, a great pop song contains a catchy hook, which is a 5-second pitch designed to convince the listener. Think Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance, whose “OoooOooooh” and flashy synths immediately reel you into the spotlight of a dark and gritty dancefloor. Von Dutch, however, quite brazenly disrupts this pop convention with the clunky opening line:
It’s okay to admit that you’re jealous of me
In her recent album, The Tortured Poets Department, Taylor Swift had no shortage of awkward lines more suited for slam poetry night than her usual pop format, but the lack of pretense, paired with the prosaic lyrics, promptly invites the listener to speculate Charli’s perpetrator in Von Dutch. There is something so thrilling, yet ill-mannered about rooting for her target’s downfall as the spiraling synths and delayed beats take us on a rollercoaster ride of pure hubris. Then, the ambiguity of Von Dutch’s lyrics allows her culprit to cower in reasonable doubt, which perhaps explains her fans’ inability to identify the celebrity in question. However, all hopes for a classy exposé are thrown out the window when Charli shrieks in her garish use of autotune:
I'm your number one, I'm your number one
This phrase repeats ad nauseum until the listener finally gives up to tell Charli, “Okay, we get it!” But if her fans are over it by the first few repetitions, then imagine the psychological torture her victim must endure throughout the song. The sheer impotence of never living up to Charli’s soaring fame, as well as the humiliation of being broke, penetrates her perpetrator’s psyche like a pernicious earworm. Charli continues to kick the can by referencing the late 90s clothing brand, Von Dutch, which alludes to her philosophy on taste, culture, and popularity.
Von Dutch, cult classic but I still pop
Paris Hilton (left) and Nicole Richie (right) starring in the hit reality TV show The Simple Life, which aired in 2003 and ran for 5 seasons.
Following the modern-day resurgence of late 90s/Y2K fashion, it seems like the Von Dutch clothing brand has stood the test of time. After all, its creator, Howard Kenneth, designed the brand’s iconic Egyptian flying eye logo to commemorate his fellow working-class laborers both in the past and present. But it is also easy to forget how exactly it captured the pop culture zeitgeist at the time of its creation. Paris Hilton’s hit reality TV show The Simple Life, which featured her and Nicole Richie trading the underserved opulence of Beverly Hills for a hard life on the farm, exemplified the elite’s longing for working-class sensibilities. More broadly, Von Dutch trucker hats were all the rage on the red carpet in the 2000s, donned by even the wealthiest devotees who decorated the rim of their lowly headpieces with Swarovski crystals.
Yet, the celebrity love for Von Dutch seemed a bit jarring, perhaps even an insult to the hat’s original meaning. In fact, these celebrities never knew what it was like to drive a truck for miles on end. And they couldn’t imagine taking orders at a restaurant unless an industry executive was waiting patiently around the corner. Therefore, it wouldn’t be a stretch to argue that the Von Dutch clothing brand and its meaning was simply fetishized by celebrities, who couldn’t quite grab the attention of the general public without signaling through their trucker hats, “Look, I’m down-trodden just like you!”
However, in the track Von Dutch, Charli isn’t interested in signaling how she’s “just like you” to her audience. Furthermore, her celebrity status does not elevate the brand to a new level of cultural meaning. Instead, she argues that the hat itself is a cultural touchstone to be referenced and revered. In other words, Von Dutch became a cult classic the moment its aesthetics alluded the working-class, not the other way around. Even Charli herself did not become a cult classic because she suddenly amassed a huge following or was endorsed by public figures far more influential and famous than her. In her first hyperpop record, Vroom Vroom EP, she was able to capture the imperceptible brilliance of pop in all its bratty glory, which earned her a small, yet dedicated fanbase.
And sure. Pop may be progressing with the likes of Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan, and Billie Eilish, all of whom infuse the art of storytelling in a genre once riddled with shallow euphemisms and corporate catchphrases. But Charli isn’t set out to wash away pop’s sins. Instead, she doubles down on the braggadocios lyrics, repetition, and highly-processed vocals to reclaim her status as a pop purist, which positions Charli at the helm of pop discourse in an era of pomp and poetry. This is reminiscent of Howard Kenneth’s design, which didn’t stray away from the traditional, trucker hat silhouette.
Furthermore, despite Brat’s commercial success, Charli’s coked-up rendition of pop doesn’t assuage the public’s desires for traditional tunes like Good Luck, Babe!, Birds of a Feather, or Espresso. And that’s okay. In a her speech for Variety’s Hitmaker Award, Charli argued that some of the most influential albums of all time, including The Velvet Underground’s debut record, barely charted upon released. In fact, The Velvet Underground as a band flew under the radar for years until critics and artists picked up on their talent. Now, decades later, the band’s iconic Andy Warhol banana album cover can be seen everywhere, in both high and low places. Perhaps Brat will escape meme purgatory and invade the art galleries of high society. Who knows.
But more importantly, Von Dutch is an anthem about the culture, and what it means to be its designated driver. Baring the haughty lyrics, all the insecurities of not chasing status or commercial success throughout her career surfaced as Charli finally broke her silence in the song. There is no more tip-toeing around her influence or legacy as an artist. She is the culture, which isn’t always politely stated given the parasitic and commercial nature of the music industry.
