Considering that music video director Colin Tilley is also responsible for the visuals of Nicki Minaj’s “Good Form” (and that Minaj was ahead of the game on collaborating with Megan Thee Stallion–on what is to remain her most iconic single, “Hot Girl Summer”–before Cardi), can it be any wonder that he was “tapped” for a lascivious project such as “WAP”? Of course, “lascivious” is perhaps too literary a word to describe the all-out “eat me” (hence, the Alice in Wonderland-esque hallway homage) sentiments expressed repeatedly by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion as we’re introduced to their kinky version of what amenities a quarantine house should have. Obviously, one of them is a nude statue of both of them, presented like ho-ish Siamese twins, with their tits spouting water for the ultimate Ancient Rome-approved fountain.
Soon, we’re inside of the freaky deaky sex-friendly abode as Cardi and Megan troll the halls like two “pussies” in heat, looking inside of each room to find such “goodies” as a trio of tigers, a snake door knocker that comes to life and, to that end, a variety of ophidians that they can lesbianically slither among to give Britney a run for her money in terms of “I’m A Slave 4 U” iconography. Elsewhere, the punani-centric pair finds themselves in a Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory-inspired room (with shades of the Roundhouse set, to boot) as they continue to wax “poetic” about their respective wet ass pussies.
In the middle of it all and apropos of nothing other than perhaps to show that no matter what catastrophe is occurring in the world, we must still pay attention to members of the Kardashian-Jenner juggernaut, Kylie shows up in a leopard number, approaches a door with a knocker (as though to reference her own set) and enters. No permission asked. Read into that subversive subtext what you will, for it reverses the expectation that men always “enter” (yes, double entendre) whenever they feel like it. The video then offers various snapshots of Cardi and Megan in their own coordinated animal prints (set against the backdrop of matching wallpaper and furniture).
The breakdown of the song, during which Frank Ski once again chants, “There’s some whores in this house,” occurs against the tableau of an indoor pool. A bevy of backup dancers are present to help them get across their none too subtle message about splashy wetness and how a “big D” ought to “come take a dive.” By the end, however, both women seem to be scandalized by the other “whores” in the house (either because they realize they have competition, or they have no idea who these people are–though they consist of additional celebrity cameos by Normani, Rosalía, Mulatto, Sukihana and Rubi Rose) while they stalk the halls like outraged “old” women–as though to say, “Who do these zygote bitches think they are? Whoredom is only okay when we do it.”
That’s the thing about generational divides, one supposes: the older one always thinks they did (and can still do) it better. Which isn’t exactly far off the mark… much to Gen Z’s dismay.
