What Sabrina Could’ve Done Differently
RE: A Cultural Mystic’s Take on the Backlash, the Branding, and the Missed Opportunity
If you clicked on this essay, chances are you’ve already treated yourself to several Sabrina Carpenter think pieces. The perky pop star’s new album Man’s Best Friend has created a storm of debate online and its debut single has barely been out two weeks.
There’s essentially two prevailing sentiments hammering down on Carpenter:
1. Her album cover and lead single are prime examples of the dark side of choice feminism— cosplaying independence and sexual liberation while pandering to the male gaze, simultaneously promoting the infantilization and hyper-specialization of women.
Many fans felt like this creative direction is low-hanging fruit for the artist, who’s often heralded for her wit and wordplay. While her songs classically poke fun at the ineptitude of men, lyrics like: “I choose to blame your mom” and “I swear they choose me, I’m not choosing them” felt like an equally weaponized incapacity to hold men accountable for their actions without the need to baby them, or blame another woman.
And when Carpenter dropped to her knees in her album cover, she brought thousands of women to their feet, denouncing the visuals as harmful and regressive in a post-Roe era.
In many ways, these women felt like Sabrina was pandering to classics tropes of patriarchal desire, while undermining the intelligence of women and herself. It seemed in bad taste.
2. The criticism around Carpenter’s new album is an attack on women’s expression and sexual freedom. While there are real issues going on in the world, the bombardment of a young woman who’s really not releasing anything more scandalous than her peers— past or present, it feels a bit like nitpicking.
As we know, well-behaved women seldom make history and what is a pop star to do, if not stir the pot a little? Sabrina, like all writer, has mined her life, love’s, and bedroom gymnastics as fodder for the fire pushing her forward. We were happy to share in her Juno positions, taste her when he’s kissing us, and guzzle up tiny cups of her Espresso (did you read this, btw?)— but now we have a problem because she likes her hair pulled?
To many fans, it feels convenient that an artist is suddenly being slut-or-kink shamed for the same candor and cheeky visuals that shot her into superstardom. Is it because her album cover swings darker and more mature?
Why do we so readily embrace the sexual awakening of a very young woman, but squirm at her sexual becoming after that cherry is popped?
Here’s the thing:
Everyone’s kinda got a point. Critics and champions of Sabrina’s new album bring a lot of necessary discussion to the forefront of women’s communities. Regardless of where they stand, the dissection of this album— which hasn’t even been released, mind you— is introducing a new generation to the more political and philosophical crossroads of womanhood, misogyny, and art.
This is a good thing.
Art, in all forms, is meant to be divisive and confronting. It should uplift us, challenge us, and make us, above all, feel something. And those feelings can get messy and disagreeable— that is a good thing too.
It’s good for women to discuss and commune and disagree. It’s okay for us to argue a little. It’s healthy to explore how we feel about these images and lyrics. It is this precise examination that informs us more deeply on who we are, what we believe, and what makes us tick.
What is an artist if not a mirror?
But somewhere between chasing emotionally stunted men and golden retrievers, we began pointing our fangs at each other— and Sabrina.
As a cultural mystic, I pay very close attention to how art, celebrity, and social movements reflect the state of collective subconscious. The truth of
where we’re healing, hurting, thirsting is all right there splashed across our billboards, if you only dare to look.
You might think the latest reality show, hit single, or documentary isn’t that deep, but I’ve spent years swimming in Neptune’s waters. I know what it looks like when the sirens call you, even through your radio.
And these stars, like Sabrina, are risen up— placed in the center of our skies like constellations of demigods. They become our folklore. Our mythology. And then we use them, like spells and mother gods, to invoke new magic and power within ourselves.
We place them on altars and pedestals, but they don’t yet realize that they are our tools. We can pretend artists like Carpenter are taking a knife to feminism all day, but really she is the athame we point at each other.
And if you know women, you’ll know we’re inclined to curse and celebrate each other in equal measure. We will applaud your strength and bravery, then accuse you on conceit. Herald your personal power then patronize your privilege.
Attention-seeker. Pick Me. Bitch. Witch.
Who needs men when we’ve been so conditioned to stalk and police one another so fervently? Maybe we really are Man’s Best Friend.
But we don’t have to be.
We don’t have to degrade one another, or an artist, to discuss the merits around art and visual concepts. We can speak about our personal politics and philosophy without picking each other apart like turkey vultures in the middle of November.
We are better than a pack of pseudo-intellectual, mean-girl she-wolves gnawing at each other over the motives of pop music. We can up our game here.
We are smart and capable of having this discourse in a way that doesn’t dishonor us— or her.
And I’m sure Sabrina’s team is gleefully eating up all this controversy, knowing it’s driving sales and discussion. But if I was her creative director, I’d be keen on finding fresh visuals that bring more unity, fun, and sisterhood to Sabrina’s character arc.
Now, in my opinion, Carpenter’s most recent single and album cover screams two things to me:
1. We’re doubling down on what works. Sabrina had released seven albums before she shot to stardom with Short n’ Sweet. A new album, visual concept, promotion, and performance nearly every single year for the better part of a decade is a tremendous amount of work, but it wasn’t until Sabrina began cutting hearts into her corsets that she also carved her place into our hearts.
In a recent Rolling Stone interview, she discussed the controversy around her cheeky branding:
“It’s always so funny to me when people complain,” she says. “They’re like, ‘All she does is sing about this.’ But those are the songs that you’ve made popular. Clearly you love sex. You’re obsessed with it.”
2. Sabrina’s in her dark feminine era. Where Short n’ Sweet felt like candy, Man’s Best Friend is more like a Jell-O shot— still plenty of sugar, but it’s packing a harder punch than usual. And you’ll need ID or a big sister to get it.
In the albums debut, Manchild, Carpenter pens lyrics like:
“Stupid— Or is it slow?” and “Why so sexy if so dumb? And how survive on Earth so long?”
It’s a natural balance to her last album and the criticism around it cements her relevance as the rising pop star of the moment.
If not important, why much yapping?
But if I was her creative director, I would’ve suggested a different concept that I think would far better serve her artistically and her collective spiritually.
Sabrina the Witch:
Carpenters smash album Short n’ Sweet was partially so well received because it was cheeky, girly, and playful at a time when we really needed it. We had a woman headlining the Democratic ticket, superstar actresses were front and center with movies like Anora, Poor Things, and the Holdover. And we were still coasting on the high of Barbie summer the year before.
We were high on Girl Power. And it was a perfect soundtrack for a generation of women ready to fall back in love with themselves.
And following the popularity of her single Juno, I like the idea of Sabrina following this hyper-feminine, mythological, goddess lane all the way to Temple of Girlhood.
Women have long used magic as literal and symbolic avenues to channel their agency, empowerment, and sexuality— all power points for the pop star. And following in the footsteps of Bewitched (‘64), I Dream of Jeannie (‘65), and the Love Witch (‘16, but set in the 60’s)— even the popular movie Teen Witch (‘89) would be perfectly on brand for Carpenter’s style and brand.
Sabrina at her core is a wordsmith and what are spells if not cleverly and intentionally crafted commands? There’s power in poetry and here we could have really seen her stretch her legs past “Why so sexy if so dumb?”
She can do better than that.
The 60’s—80’s theme is already deliciously aligned with her brand. The plots of the dopey husband who doesn’t appreciate your magic (*cough* power and independence), the overbearing mother, the try-hard wife, the schoolgirl pining over the football star, the lover girl scorned and seeking revenge? They all scream Sabrina Carpenter to me.
She even shares a name with one of the most popular witches of all time.
Can you imagine the costumes?! The set design?THE MUSIC VIDEOS?! The cover of I Put a Spell on You?!
She could’ve made charms and tarot decks in her likeness and sent them to TikTok’s most popular readers. Sold mood rings. Had her single names released on fortune cookies. Taken a palm reader on tour.
And that’s not the mention that series like Bewitched showcased a really brilliant form of subversive feminism, highlighting the juxtaposition between a woman’s inherent power and her inevitable suppression in outer society and her inner relationships.
Pardon my French, but it would’ve been fucking perfect.
Unfortunately, I am not on Sabrina Carpenter’s team (call me), but I am on her side. I love her music and she was such a fresh pop of joy on my radio during a really difficult summer.
I wish her all the best with Man’s Best Friend and I do anticipate her surprising us with something special, as she usually does. But I do think this alternative direction would have been absolutely bewitching.
If you enjoy the way I approach cultural storytelling, archetypes, and the strange little mythologies of modern media, you’ll probably love my intuitive work as well. I offer tarot readings and creative consulting sessions for artists, writers, and entrepreneurs looking to develop their own unique voice, brand, or storyline.
✨ Book a reading or creative session here → Scheduling
✨ Subscribe to The Little Window for essays, readings, and creative insights
Let’s make some magic.