For a while there, it seemed as though there was nothing Lana Del Rey could do right. It started at the beginning of her career, and then briefly tapered off during her Lust for Life through Norman Fucking Rockwell era. It was during the critical darling phase of Norman Fucking Rockwell, however, that things started to take a turn back toward 2011-2012 territory. And ultimately, all at Del Rey’s own hand. Or rather, social media outbursts. It began with her vitriolic reaction to Ann Powers giving her a positive review on NPR for NFR. The problem? Powers had the audacity to declare that Del Rey had a persona early on in her career: the Daddy-loving coquette queen being chief among them. Del Rey then clapped back, “To write about me is nothing like it is to be with me. Never had a persona. Never needed one. Never will. So don’t call yourself a fan like you did in the article and don’t count your editor one either—I may never have made bold political or cultural statements before—because my gift is the warmth I live my life with and the self-reflection I share generously.” Pretentious and ego-driven much?
Almost as if to further insist—therefore, defy Powers’ assessment—that her Daddy-loving coquette queen persona has always been real, Del Rey opted to fall right back into it for her first ad campaign since the 2019 one she did for Gucci, also co-starring Jared Leto. The campaign was in promotion of the Gucci Guilty fragrance, though, as usual, the goings-on of the pictorial “narrative” seemed to have little to do with scent. Unless one counts being at the laundromat…there’s plenty of odors there.
At the very least, the campaign for Skims is able to be less abstract about what it’s promoting. Not just Kim Kardashian herself, but the Valentine’s Day “drops” she wants to sell out for the month of “love” (i.e., buying something for someone proving how much you love them because capitalism). On January 18th, the big announcement was made that Del Rey would be Skims’ “Valentine” a.k.a. their February shill. A key piece to moving this kind of product in an increasingly less romantic world. Indeed, it’s already been reported by Women’s Wear Daily that Del Rey “amassed $13.7 million in media impact value [for the brand] within four days, with Del Rey’s own Instagram post earning Skims more than $4 million.” This allure of Del Rey (particularly, for whatever reason, among the Gen Z crowd trying to lay claim to her the way they have with Mean Girls) has entirely superseded her brief bout with “cancellation” in 2020, after posting her infamous “question for the culture” and receiving backlash for her specific callout of women of color in it. Comparing her “struggle” to their so-called lack thereof.
As if that weren’t bad enough, Del Rey then made matters worse for herself by soon after posting a video of people looting during the George Floyd protests in L.A., prompting Kehlani (one of the singers name-checked in her “question for the culture”) to tweet directly at Del Rey, “Please remove your Instagram post it’s dangerous as fuck and a very poor choice of moments to post. By all means protest, but DO NOT endanger people with your very massive platform. Oh and turn your fuckin comments on man.” Tinashe also weighed in on Del Rey’s recklessness for the sake of a social media post clearly meant to prove she was “down” two weeks after being accused of those racist undertones in her public missive. In slightly less gentle words, Tinashe tweeted, “Why the fuck are you posting people looting stores on your page literally WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM.”
As though not wanting to let the haunting comments of 2020 persist in 2021, Del Rey overcorrected by posting a picture of her then-new album cover for Chemtrails Over the Country Club at the beginning of 2021, foolishly commenting, “In 11 years working, I have always been extremely inclusive without even trying to. My best friends are rappers my boyfriends have been rappers. My dearest friends have been from all over the place, so before you make comments again about a WOC/POC issue, I’m not the one storming the capital, I’m literally changing the world by putting my life and thoughts and love out there on the table 24 seven.” Funnily enough, most of that extremely narcissistic statement sounds as though it could have come straight out of Kim Kardashian’s mouth. A woman, evidently, that LDR has “loved” for quite some time. Even before singing at one of her wedding festivities back in 2014 (a “gift,” incidentally, given to Kardashian by Kanye West…before Del Rey decided to write a damning lyric about him that goes, “Kanye West is blonde and gone”). Del Rey was, indeed, only too eager to tell Vogue, “I love Kim, and I love her family. Me and my sister are huge fans of them, and have been watching them forever.” That right there should be a major red flag to anyone who has insisted that Del Rey is some beneficent, selfless soul. For anyone who can see the Kardashians as something other than the very embodiment of the decay of America that Del Rey is meant to be “ironically” speaking on in her songs is not to be trusted.
And yet, now that Del Rey has reemerged from the other side of 2019-2021 unscathed and more revered than ever (how rapidly the public can forget back-to-back controversies), it appears as though she’s comfortable ruffling feathers again. Specifically, the feathers of those who would take issue with advocating for a brand (and the person associated with it) like Skims. That aside, Del Rey’s decision to align with the “body positive” juggernaut doesn’t feel like a coincidence. Almost as though she’s leaning entirely into her chili cookout and Waffle House era. Plus, despite any perceptions to the contrary (and also urging, “If you want some basic bitch/Go to the Beverly Center and find her”), Del Rey has always been, at her core, a basic bitch (cue the droning lyrics, “Put his favorite perfume on/Go play your video game” or “Blue jeans, white shirt”). She copped to it herself in a 2019 interview with Billboard as well.
Thus, it was no surprise that when Vogue asked her, “What do you love about the pieces that Kim and Skims are making?” Del Rey replied, “Well, first of all, I just love how well it’s doing for her [insert gag noises here]. And second of all, I do wear basics on most days; I like wearing the little rompers, or onesies with a big t-shirt. I’m always curious to see what they’re going to do; it’s an ever-evolving brand. It started as kind of a niche brand [like Del Rey herself], and I feel like it’s grown into a thing where now my sister and my best friend Margaret [Jack Antonoff’s wife, one presumes?] are wearing it. All of a sudden you’re like, ‘Oh, you’re wearing Skims too,’ and you show up in the same outfit as you’re getting a coffee. It’s really kind of sweet.” If by “sweet” (also the name of one of her songs on Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd) what she means is: absolutely atrocious. For there is nothing more terrible, generic fashion-wise, than a world of women outfitted in Skims.
Except maybe a world of women outfitted in H&M. Which brings us back to 2012. Better known as the year Del Rey felt most comfortable being a shill. After all, everyone is obliged to be when they’re first starting out (even Madonna was no stranger to an early onslaught of ads, including ones for Mitsubishi and, of course, Pepsi). It helps not only get a still-unknown face “out there” for more audiences to see and “connect with” (if a “connection” can really be forged by wanting to look like someone who represents a false ideal), but it also helps secure one’s bag right from the get-go in case the fame game doesn’t endure. So secure it Del Rey did. Not just stopping at her H&M campaign (for which she sang a cover of “Blue Velvet” in a Lynchian-inspired commercial), but also continuing to lend her name for Jaguar’s F-Type that same year. “Burning Desire” was the song tailor-made for the accompanying commercial (which doesn’t look that dissimilar to the one for H&M, in terms of LDR standing on a red-curtained stage alone with a microphone looking “old-timey”).
And so, here it bears noting that, when it comes to what she’ll shill, Del Rey has little discernment in how the products she touts affect the environment she claims to so love and care about (particularly on Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass’ “Paradise Is Very Fragile”). What with fast fashion and fossil fuel emissions being at the heart (no Valentine’s Day pun intended) of environmental fallout. Any such love was also tossed aside when she opted to wear that Shein dress that everyone immediately flocked to buy (because, whether it was Shein or not, it was still fast fashion-y enough to find a knockoff on Shein that quickly sold out afterward—call it the Del Rey advertisement effect).
Her latest advertising foray for Skims only adds to the damning proof of that. For it’s not exactly under the radar anymore that Skims’—an “American” company—production and manufacturing occur mainly in China and Turkey, where labor laws don’t exactly live up to the Skims promise that workers will be “ensured fair wages, safe environments and healthy working conditions.” What’s more, the company is just as (Gucci) guilty of greenwashing as the aforementioned H&M, insisting that its packaging is free of non-recyclable materials, as well as plastic. A closer look at the fine print indicates that’s bullshit. And sounds almost as fantastical as a world where the U.S. nominates a (non-conservative) woman for president. Though, at the rate that Kardashian’s clout has increased even more since ditching Ye (even though, at the outset of their relationship, he was responsible for increasing rather than detracting from that clout), she might have a far more successful run for the presidency than her ex-husband ever did. And it would probably be endorsed by Del Rey while wearing the Velvet Lace Teddy in Periwinkle Multi.
Doing her part to help obfuscate the problematic nature of Skims and its fast fashion manufacturing processes, Del Rey’s “innocent” coquette air is played up by photography from Nadia Lee Cohen (half Israeli at a time when no one in the media wants to talk frankly about Israeli-Palestinian “relations”). No stranger to photographing Del Rey after the March 2023 issue of Interview…not to mention doing the photoshoot for Kim’s Interview cover for September 2022. Lending her by now signature tinge of 60s aesthetic style to the Skims x Lana shoot, the audience is ultimately enraptured by the photos themselves, rather than the products they’re meant to represent. And yes, it’s a lovely set of photos, in and of themselves. Begging the question: why does it also have to be about selling something? Why does Del Rey, a self-declared “simple” singer-songwriter feel obliged to peddle these wares at this late stage in her fame game anyway, when money has never been less relevant to or needed for her artistic pursuits?
