Words by Cristi Barco; Photo assist: Sarah Schechter
rlyblonde is really blonde. No really: she’s like a supernova of every blonde stereotype plucked and dumped into a transient, sparkly, digitized character. She is fictional and non-fictional; Hillary Duff, Elle Woods, Gwen Stefani, and Regina George all taking turns playing a glittery hot pink guitar. After years of creative direction, videography, and photography for New York’s favorite rising indie acts, rlyblonde is soaring in her own music career while running her production company, Hot Creative.
Photography: Katie Harless
Her debut EP, Star of the Show, is a cross-over between a Junior High Dance and a Brooklyn Warehouse Party. Its gritty grey bubblegum pop. Maybe blackberry flavored bubblegum pop. Reminiscent of 2000s rom-coms whilst breathing with life and self-awareness, rlyblonde rly could be Hoku’s non-prudish morally ambiguous twin.
These five songs relish in the powerful facade of glamour. Track number one, Star of the Show, the big introduction, sets the tone: “Life of the party, be the ingénue for you… I’ll be your girl for the night, Star of the Show, cuz you know that’s just how I like it.” Dreamy and dramatic, like a 30s ‘picture star’, the song flips from light percussive verses to moody vocals and ’90s guitar breaks in the chorus.
rlyblonde understands that the escapism of hyper-femininity goes both ways. If people treat you like a persona, you don’t have to deal with being a person. Likewise, if you present as a persona, an ingénue–others feel uplifted by their presence. But being a transient, sparkly, digitized character is a slippery slope, since they might think you don’t need things other humans need: care, affection, some degree of restraint.
The bitter-sweetness of her journey is explored further on the fourth track, “Icon Baby,” which feels like “Star of the Show”‘s long lost sister. Most of its lines act as double entendres; they could equally be read as regret or liberation. Or both. “I let myself be an icon baby”…
Did she allow herself to become what she was born to be? Or did she let it happen to her? Is it something she has to live with or gets to live with? “Maybe you’d say that I lost it, I’d say that I barely got started”: again, she already feels a lack of control in her life, but she knows she’s only going to keep going for it. With all this hesitation and regret wrapped up in a dreamy ’90s-style pop bow, “Icon baby” is the perfect soundtrack for something like the 10 Things I Hate about You prom scene.
The third track, “Karaoke,” would be perfect for the soundtrack of 13 going on 30. “Karaoke” seems like it would taste like the plasticy-glittery blue eyeshadow in toy phone makeup kits. “Hollywood“, the EP’s final track, is a lament lightened up by rock instrumentals. The line, “I’m out in Hollywood / while everything’s burning”, encompasses the crux of the song and maybe even the entire EP: guilt and glamour.
My personal favorite is the second track and lead-off single, “Dumb Blonde.” Right at home in the realm of today’s pop girlies like Chappell, Sabrina, and MUNA, it’s one of those addicting pop songs with the perfect touch of rock and roll. Iconic lines like “When it all blows up / who’s gonna save me? / Hands in the air / I’m just dumb blonde baby” feel like they’re designed to be scream-sung at the Greek Theatre.
rlyblonde’s music is for people looking for a space to express joy. And for those too busy bedazzling inanimate objects to conform to “serious” expressions of power—it’s a celebration of femininity.