Chappell Roan’s Attempt to “Gen Z-ify” Fame By Setting “Healthy Boundaries” (Via the Shame Game)

While some might think that “Gen Z-ifying” fame refers to how virality through TikTok is the only way to become a “star” (with no staying power) nowadays, the truth is that Chappell Roan just summed up the true meaning of it on her own TikTok account. This by demanding that fans stop being, well, creepy. As though Roan has no concept that the parasocial relationship train can’t stop once it’s left the station. But then, what is one to expect from a novice to the scene? For, even more than being a parent, the phrase “there is no manual for blah blah blah” applies to fame and how one’s life immediately changes after it hits (just ask the “very demure, very mindful” bia). But it seems the aspect of celebrity that famous people consistently wish they could do without is the obsessive nature of fans, which has only grown more dangerous and disturbing in the digital age.

For Roan, the obsession people have with her has already proven to be too much. And, even though she’s technically been in this business since 2015, when she first signed a deal with Atlantic Records, nothing prepared her for the sudden frenzy for all things Chappell as 2024 rolled around. She already addressed how overwhelming this newfound “icon status” has been for her, namely back in June during a Raleigh concert date, when Roan told the audience, “I just want to be honest with the crowd. I feel a little off today, because I think my career is going really fast and it’s hard to keep up. I’m just being honest, I’m having a hard time today.” Roan has also alluded to her disdain for fans that feel they should have constant access to her in an interview for The Comment Section with Drew Afualo, insisting that when she’s performing or giving an interview, she’s simply “clocked in” like anyone else with a “normal job” (which, again, is not what she has). When she’s offstage, however, Roan explained to Afualo, “Bitch, I’m not at work.” Thus, do not approach her as though she is.

As for the massive crowds she’s been drawing in everywhere from Bonnaroo to Lollapalooza, in spite of how “ready for it” everyone seems to be for Roan to keep releasing new music, all signs seem to point to her “pumping the brakes” on the whole goddamn thing as a result of being so sketched out by the, let’s say, intensity of certain fans. Thus, she took to TikTok to say, “If you saw a random woman on the street, would you yell at her from the window?” Roan already sets herself up for failure with that question because, for many sober men and drunk people of all creeds, the answer is a resounding yes. She goes on, “Would you harass her in public? Would you go up to a random lady and say, ‘Can I get a photo with you?’ Would you be offended if she says no to your time because she has her own time? Would you stalk her family, would you follow her around? I’m a random bitch, you’re a random bitch.” Again, Roan sets herself up for all the holes in her “argument” for privacy to be easily poked through. Because, no, she is not a random bitch at all. She has achieved that thing that so many people wish they could: fame and acclaim. Ergo, becoming a public figure. A status that automatically changes the game in terms of what can be “done” to you.

Concluding her tirade against creeps with, “Just think about that for a second. I don’t care that this crazy type of behavior comes along with the job, the career field I’ve chosen. That does not make it okay, that doesn’t make it normal… [a word that shouldn’t really be in an drag queen enthusiast’s vocabulary, but whatever]. I don’t give a fuck if you think it’s selfish of me to say no for a photo, or for your time, or to…for a hug. It’s weird how people think that you know a person just ‘cause you see them online or you listen to the art they make.” Here, too, Roan sets herself up for disaster because a key part of the reason that many fans do listen to this “art” is precisely because they feel like they know the person who made it. See something of themselves in that person and, therefore, feel connected.

In the past, many musicians have only courted that perception, including the ultimate millennial pop star, Taylor Swift. Indeed, part of Swift’s longevity has been her acumen in cultivating parasocial relationships with fans. It can be argued, in fact, that fame wouldn’t really exist without this dynamic. At least not the kind of fame that constitutes being a global pop superstar. As for Roan continuing to insist that “it’s fucking weird” for people to glom onto a musician in such a way, she might need to be reminded that her entire shtick is centered around “weird” a.k.a. drag looks. And honestly, it’s no weirder than all of us being on some rock spinning around in the middle of space with absolutely no idea how we got here other than some unprovable postulations (including the “God theory”).

Of course, Roan isn’t the only one who has expressed disdain for fan behavior in recent years. Take, for example, a video that made the rounds after the 2018 Met Gala, when Lana Del Rey (still in her “Bible” costume) was about to oblige a fan that asked for a selfie. When he tried to re-angle the phone she was holding to take the picture, she thrust it back and him and said, “You know what, fuck it” (though it sounded sort of like “fuck off” or “fuck you” as well). It speaks to what Roan said above about not “owing” anyone a photo. That a fan should be grateful to receive any such request fulfillment at all—not further annoy the famous person by trying to control how the selfie looks. By the same token, of course, there’s always the valid argument that fans are literally paying for how famous people live, so shouldn’t they be entitled to such things? And, if Roan wants to make analogies between famous people and regular people, it can be said that regular people’s bosses do pretty much the same thing, constantly infiltrating their lives outside of work because they pay for their existence, as it were.  

Roan’s disgust with fan (or “stan”) behavior is, what’s more, in direct contrast to the “teachings” millennials have carried on from generations of famous people past. Case in point, during Paris Hilton’s 2020 documentary, This Is Paris, Kim Kardashian commented, “I think the best advice that she ever could’ve given me was just watching her.” Watching her constantly pose with fans whenever they asked for a photo, watching her being bombarded by paparazzi without ever lashing out, watching her personal life get violated in all the most invasive possible ways (Kim was obviously studying the sex tape aspect of that most closely). In the same documentary, Hilton admitted, “Even though it was so hectic and insane and just nonstop…I also loved the attention.” At least she can admit that. Roan, it seems, is struggling to acknowledge that attention is what she wanted for so long, only to be met with the “be careful what you wish for” caveat.

And yet, in an interview for Q with Tom Power, Roan made a prescient remark, saying, “This industry, like, you really flourish if you don’t protect yourself.” Power clarifies, “You flourish if you don’t protect yourself?” “Mhmm, yes” she replies sagely. “Like if you don’t look after yourself you can have a pretty good, amazing career. You’ve seen that kind of thing happen?” “We’ve all seen that kind of thing happen.” (To be sure, there’s no example more textbook than Britney Spears.) In the same interview, Roan goes on to say that touring is her favorite part of the job, even though one would think that might be the ripest scenario for witnessing the apex of “creep behavior” among fans. But “creepy,” like everything else, means different things to different people. While one fan might believe it’s perfectly normal to throw their mother’s ashes onstage, another might simply want to become “iconic” in their own right by engaging with a certain opening lyric in a viral way. In effect, the shades of creep in fandoms are multi-hued and numerous, and certainly can’t be contained by a mere “read” from an honorary drag queen/Midwest princess.

To boot, there are some who would still posit that the “dark side of fame” is but a small price to pay for all the benefits that go with it, not least of which is avoiding, more than “normals,” an overpowering sense of insignificance. Hell, look at Kevin Bacon’s recent comment on how terrible it was to not be famous for a day, stating, “Nobody recognized me. People were kind of pushing past me, not being nice. Nobody said, ‘I love you.’ I had to wait in line to, I don’t know, buy a fucking coffee or whatever. I was like, ‘This sucks. I want to go back to being famous.’” Perhaps Roan ought to try out his experiment as well.

This isn’t an “asking for it” type of logic that men try so often to use on women for how they dress in terms of saying that those who want to be entertainers should know what they’re getting into. That they “asked for it” when they made the Faustian pact. But it is reminding those Gen Z famous ones, like Roan, who expect to set up “healthy boundaries” for such an uncontrollable entity that doing so is impossible without stepping out of the spotlight altogether. Something Josh Hartnett, a fellow Midwest “prince” (from Minnesota), recently addressed in an interview with The Guardian, recalling of his white-hot moment as Hollywood’s most sought-after heartthrob, “People’s attention to me at the time was borderline unhealthy… There were incidents. People showed up at my house. People that were stalking me… a guy showed up at one of my premieres with a gun, claiming to be my father. He ended up in prison. There were lots of things. It was a weird time. And I wasn’t going to be grist for the mill.” That word again: “weird.” As in: celebrity is fucking weird. Which is why some people are built for it, and some people aren’t. In the years (or maybe just months) ahead, the audience will soon find out if Roan is.

Who knows? Maybe her ire for “fandom” is a passing fancy. After all, she’s not the first famous person to comment on her gross fans. Take, for example, Madonna’s resurfaced 1991 interview in The Washington Post, during which she unabashedly declares, “I don’t mind when people come up to me in a restaurant and go, ‘God, I think you’re great.’ I love that. It’s the obsessive fanatics whose attention seems very hostile. It’s beyond admiration. It’s very crazy…” That might sound “Gen Z” enough to go along with Roan’s sentiments, but M gave away her boomer nature when she added, “It’s always fat people too. They are the most unattractive social outcasts, like really overweight girls or guys with lots of acne that follow me around and pester me. It’s frightening because not only are they bothering me, but they’re horrible to look at too.”

At the same time, Madonna and Roan have more in common than some might think, not just because of their “slow burn” first albums taking a full year to catch on, but also because Madonna hails from the heart of the Midwest as well. Which is exactly why she also pronounced, “It’s a very boring, humdrum place. I was raised in that world. I know the ignorance that they wallow in—and that they prefer to live in—because it’s easier for them. I’m just trying to pull all their Band-Aids off.” Roan might be trying to do the same with fans who think “creepy behavior” is acceptable/par for the course, but one doubts it will effect the kind of change that vogueing did (i.e., gay-ifying the straights without them realizing it).

Fame is one thing that can’t be Gen Z-ified, unless it becomes something else altogether. And if it did, that would likely only make it all the more “democratized.” So what’s really the point of wanting to be famous at all if everyone gets treated the same? Like the “random bitch” Roan claims she wants to be treated as.