Addison Rae and the Obsession with Slutty Virgins

an analysis of Diet Pepsi and how Addison Rae rebranded with cues from Britney and Christina

I. Addison Rae, Cool Girl

Addison Rae has unironically reached cool girl status. Which is impressive, considering where she came from. 

The world met Addison Rae in 2019 via TikTok videos, Hype House membership, and collaborations with fellow luminaries like Charli D’Amelio and Bryce Hall. Dancing to trending sounds proved to be so lucrative for the then college-freshman that she left school to move to Los Angeles and pursue influencing full-time. 

In other words, Rae gained notoriety in a field that is markedly uncool. 

Being Internet famous is generally considered a low-brow form of celebrity. Hailey Welch, the “Hawk Tuah” girl, has an Instagram comment section filled with lamentations of the 21-year-old’s wealth and fame. Half of the trolls take issue with her rapid ascent to Internet stardom originating from a ten-second clip, and half from the content of the clip. The success of TikTok stars like Rae and D’Amelio is seen in a similar way; instead of achieving popularity within acceptable fields like music or acting, they do so through viral short-form content which has a relatively low barrier to entry. 

Since her initial rise to fame, Rae has attempted to break away from her identity as an Internet Personality, and exercise her talents in other fields. In 2021, she released her debut single “Obsessed.” Later that year, she starred in He’s All That, a remake of the ‘90’s classic rom-com. Both were considered flops, and both were mocked mercilessly. 

Over the past few years, Rae has made a calculated effort to achieve niche popularity among certain ingroups (and niche popularity is a key ingredient for the cool girl). A few weeks ago, in front of a sold out crowd at Madison Square Garden, Rae sang her single Diet Pepsi alongside cool girl queen Charli xcx, and former Internet Personality turned pop star Troye Sivan. Her cool girl status was cemented, and thus pop culture as we know it changed forever.  

Hot on the tails of the pop renaissance of Summer 2024, “Diet Pepsi” is a final form of sorts for Rae’s transformation. In many ways, she takes cues from the pop girls before her. Rae creates an entirely new idea of herself that she shares with the public; through “Diet Pepsi” she appeals to audiences in exactly the way that an exploitative, money hungry machine would want her to (if only in a knowing, tongue-in-cheek way). 

Though Rae has only existed in the spotlight since being of legal adult age (if only freshly 18), her image was remarkably “clean.” She kept her social media accounts PG and her persona unprovocative. A thoroughly memed Genius interview records her refusing to say the word “bitch,” literally “bleep”ing it out, likely with the sensitivities of young fans in mind.

The most significant controversy Rae faced was in 2022. She posed in a Holy Trinity bikini with the words “Father,” “Son,” and “Holy Spirit” written on it. Some Christians found it wildly disrespectful. The post was deleted, and the contention quickly forgotten. 

“Diet Pepsi” is different. It’s mature in a way that hasn’t been a part of her image before, even though it’s only mildly suggestive. In this way, Rae appeals to audiences exactly as former stars might have before her-- particularly, stars that have wanted to make an identity shift. 

II. Ballad of the Child Star

Celebrities, artists, or otherwise famous people often become associated with a “schtick,” or, a consistent and identifiable part of their persona. Adam Sandler is known for his goofy, often slapstick comedy. His dramatic role in Uncut Gems (2019) was something of a shock to audiences. 

Though Sandler’s role was well received, others don’t always get that same acceptance; in 2012, Snoop Dogg adopted the name Snoop Lion, and released a reggae album. Though Reincarnation was nominated for a Grammy, the name never stuck, and Snoop Dogg went back to rapping. 

Convincing the public to see a personality in a different light can prove to be challenging, even when the transition is unavoidable. 

The plight of the child star is nothing new. Judy Garland signed to MGM when she was 13 years old and succumbed to a barbiturate overdose at age 47. By the time Drew Barrymore was 13, she had already been checked into rehab. New, jarring pictures of Amanda Bynes are released every so often and get the same reaction every time. Poor girl. She was so young, so talented, and had so much promise. 

Patterns of substance abuse or psychological breaks associated with child stars are generally blamed on the trauma of having fame thrust upon the still developing minds. It also comes from the fear of losing it. They feel pressured to maintain a schtick that they can’t help but grow out of. More often than not, it’s also the source of their family’s livelihood.  

Jojo Siwa has made an example of herself in a fascinating, and cringe-inducing, way. First appearing on Dance Moms when she was just 12 years old, Siwa soon made a name for herself as a kid-enteratiner. Within a year of her time on the reality show, Siwa was releasing kid-centric records, signing to Nickelodeon, and selling a line of hair bows at Claires. She became synonymous with neon colored sparkles. She would continue to behave as a loud, exaggerated, full-grown-human-sized-toddler, even though, as many noticed, she was well into her teens. 

This past year, Siwa attempted to demonstrate a “dramatic switch” to adulthood. It was generally received as a failure. The transition read as disingenuous. Siwa didn’t do anything particularly “crazy,” save for a swig or two of vodka on stage, mild dry humping in the Karma music video, and the same sparkles albeit in darker colors. Most damning might’ve been her naming the switch: instead of showing, she made her business in telling. She cited Miley Cyrus as one of her biggest inspirations and, again, the Internet laughed. The comparison could not have been more disparate. 

Miley Cyrus played the role of Hannah Montana for the entirety of her adolescence (the first episode aired when she was 13, and the last when she was 18). Throughout the show’s run, Cyrus would become the Disney Channel’s most prominent star, and one of many that wore “purity rings,” which signified her commitment to chastity. This might have been what made her infamous 2013 VMA’s performance all the more shocking. 

The performance of her single “We Can’t Stop” supported by Robin Thicke (then fresh off of “Blurred Lines” controversy), a recently bleached pixie cut, and backtracks which advised the singer to “twerk it out,” is now, more than ten years later, undeniably iconic. At the time, it was outrageous. 

Cyrus was 21, but still trying to escape from the shadow of Hannah Montana. She had attempted to break out of the mold three years prior, releasing the single “Can’t Be Tamed” from the eponymous album. Though it prompted a few raised eyebrows, it was largely unsuccessful in defining her as an adult. It likely failed for the same reasons that Siwa’s attempts flopped: it wasn’t adult enough. Cyrus still boasted a baby face and her signature long dark hair. The video itself isn’t all that shocking. The lyrics don’t inspire any real perturbation. 

Enter foam finger. Overnight, she was the subject of Internet and Cable TV discourse, a Smith family meme, and immense amounts of criticism, ridicule, and chastisement. But one thing was abundantly clear: Miley Cyrus was not a little girl anymore. 

If Siwa took inspiration from Cyrus, then Cyrus probably looked to her elders in the industry too. And she didn’t have to look that far. 

In 2001, Christina Aguilera released “Dirrty.” She danced around a boxing ring in a bikini top, assless chaps, and sang about wanting to “get dirty.” The public erupted in rage. Aguilera had gained recognition for her spot on the Mickey Mouse Club as a young teenager. She was known for being a sweet, pure, blonde teenybopper. How could the 22 year old be so foul? 

Aguilera has stated that the choice to make this (actually) dramatic switch was from a desire to define herself outside of the image that she presented with her former label. She didn’t feel like the pure, virginal, little girl that she was being represented as. Through “Dirrty,” Aguilera exercised a newfound sense of autonomy and control over herself. Cyrus, similarly, released Bangerz under a new record label once she had officially left the Hannah Montana days. 

Both women wanted to set themselves apart from their previous “goody two-shoes” reputations. It’s worth noting that both were accused of cultural appropriation during the release of their respective singles. Aguilera wore braids, Cyrus was criticized for using Black culture and stereotypes to add shock value to her VMAs performance. Both women also retreated from their initial transitions. Cyrus has gone back to clean cut pop, winning her first Grammy for Flowers this year, and Aguilera embodied an Old Hollywood aesthetic just five years after Dirrty on her album Back to Basics. Goodbye “urban” motifs. 

One might surmise that the shock of these transformations allowed Aguilera and Cyrus to move through the industry with more freedom. They had severed all ties with the Disney Channel distinction, and distanced themselves from the child stars they had come to be known as. Even though at ages 21 and 22 their embracing of sexuality was entirely appropriate, it was dramatically unlike their prior public image. But it’s not like people had never noticed their sexuality before. 

Three years before “Dirrty,” Aguilera’s debut single “Genie in a Bottle” was released. She was 18 years old. That same year, Britney Spears released “…Baby One More Time.” She was 16. 

Spears, like Aguilera, got her start on the Mickey Mouse Club. Young adolescents at the time of each release, the women were still closely tied to the Disney Channel and the purity baggage that came with it. They were encouraged to present themselves as moral, chaste, and virginal popstars. All the same, sex sells. 

“…Baby One More Time” and “Genie in a Bottle” are innocuous in content. Though certainly suggestive, the lyrics aren’t particularly explicit. But the strategic positioning of Spears and Aguilera isn’t in the subject, rather, in the subtext. 

Aguilera sings about being “rubbed the right way,” the meaning of which doesn’t require a genius to figure out. The music video for “…Baby One More Time” features Spears in knee socks and pigtails, playing into the schoolgirl fantasy or uniform fetishism. These pedophilic ideas of beauty, what Jade Hurley calls the “sexy baby” phenomenon exhibited by stars like Sabrina Carpenter, is expounded upon in simultaneous sexual maturity and purity. In “Oops!...I Did it Again” Spears says the quiet part out loud. She tells listeners she is “not that innocent,” even though she very publicly maintained her virginity. 

The record labels and management teams called the girls to position themselves as virgins, and yet prompted them to perform in subtly sexual ways. This hypocricy allowed them to appeal to both sides of their value-add. They are sexualized while still being non-sexual. 

III. Virginity Rocks

Britney Spears famously withstood constant harassment by the paparzzi. It’s well understood that this is likely what led to her mental breakdown in 2007. Tabloids and syndicated press outlets alike asked her deeply personal questions about her relationships, her body, and the status of her virginity. 

Spears recounts her team’s insistence on portraying her as an “eternal virginal” in her 2023 memoir The Woman in Me. Though she was well into her 20’s, Spears was forced to maintain her status as a virgin while fielding questions about the most intimate details of her life in seemingly every interview she took. 

The “virginity question” was not unique to Spears; Jessica Simpson famously waited until marriage to have sex with her then-husband, Nick Lachey. It’s reported that the Olsen twins were asked about their virginities when they were just 16. All boundaries between young women and the public’s knowledge of their sex lives had disappeared (as if they ever existed at all). The public, in turn, made a game of speculation. 

Websites tracking the countdown to the Olsen twins’ 18th birthdays inspired a fervent excitement for when they would be finally “legal.” Others existed for Hilary Duff and Emma Watson. Public chat forums, still accessible in some corners of the Internet, show users commenting on the young girls’ sexual appeal. The purpose of these countdown clocks was, presumably, to mark the precise moment that it would be okay to make these comments in real life. Their “legality” is equated with their ability to be publicly sexualized. 

More recently, Internet Personality Bhad Bhabie became the subject of controversy surrounding her OnlyFans account, created within a week of her 18th birthday. She made $1 million in the first six hours that the page went live, setting a record. She’s since stated that anyone who subscribed in those first few hours should be put in jail. 

The legal age of consent, established in order to protect young people, has turned a young woman’s eighteenth birthday into a celebration for predatory actors. The focus on legality, virginity, and sexuality is, moreover, singular to young women. The Jonas brothers also wore purity rings, but you’d be hard pressed to find a male celebrity who was publicly badgered in the way Britney was. 

Virginity is an entirely manmade and socially constructed concept. And yet, it has had an immense influence over cultures across the world, seemingly from the beginning of time. Though in English a “virgin” can refer to both a man and a woman, the emphasis of “keeping” and “losing” virginity in relation to keeping and losing purity is a concept that largely belongs to women. 

For men, virginity is something of a source of ridicule (see American Pie, or The 40-Year Old Virgin). For women, it is a reflection of their morality. 

Several cultures throughout history have participated in “virginity tests,” which seek to monitor and control a woman’s sexuality. Sheets were placed over young brides’ marriage beds in order to catch the blood that was supposed to spill upon her hymen breaking (today we know that only a fraction of women’s hymens break when they experience penetration for the first time, and in many cases can break from riding a bicycle or inserting a tampon). In other parts of the world, female genital mutilation runs rampant, deforming young girls’ sexual organs in the name of preserving their purity. The same cannot be said for man. 

In many cultures across history, a woman’s virginity or “sexual innocence” was a reflection of the morality of the family that she belonged to. Bride prices were paid to the fathers of women who were raped; civilizations as far back as the Sumerians in Ancient Mesopotamia described rules for “nubile” young women (sexually mature or old enough for marriage) that were not yet married; and it was understood that girls and women, unless they were married, were sexually innocent. 

In fact, the Sumerian word for these “nubile” women directly connotes their sexual innocence. The same is true in other languages. The German word for virgin, jungfrau, literally means young (jung) woman (frau). The old English “maid” was meant to describe a virgin, or a young, unmarried woman (as in Maid Marian). A girl’s age directly correlates to her sexuality; the countdown clocks are an exaggerated display of this concept. 

Today, women are viewed in relation to their virginity, either as asexual little girls, or sexual women. And because girls develop in puberty while they are still underage, they are caught in the middle: “sexually mature,” and yet “sexually innocent.” It is this idea that the record labels tried to play up for Spears and Aguilera. They wanted to sell an idea of a woman’s value based on her innocence and purity, and her value as a sexual being. They wanted Slutty Virgins. 

IV. Selling Slutty Virgins 

Today, “Diet Pepsi” exhibits the paradox that record companies in the past aimed to sell through Britney and Christina. Through the double bind of a chastity vow and a sexually suggestive song, they act as both Madonna and whore.  

The song itself is, in a word, bad. It’s not particularly creative or enthralling, though it is certainly catchy (and isn’t this the catch of pop music?). It is, however, alluring. Almost every review of the song describes Rae’s breathy, almost lustful voice. The music video, Coleman Spilde notes, acts as an ode to Americana as she drives around in a vintage car, holding up an American flag. The music video itself is also explicitly sexual; Rae bites her lips, touches her body, licks whipped cream off of herself and feeds her male co-star a maraschino cherry with her toes. 

The lyrics are far more modest. Rae repeats throughout the chorus that she is “losing all my innocence in the backseat.” She is “untocuhed.” Her cheeks are red and the windows fog up. It’s reminiscent of a teenage hookup that might occur in someone’s car because they can’t fool around in childhood bedrooms where Mom and Dad are on the other side of the wall. It is here that Rae artfully portrays the Slutty Virgin: she is innocent, but she is sexual. She’s untouched, but someone is touching her. She sheds her skin as an immature TikToker Internet Personality. She produces provocative pop music and performs on stage at the Sweat Tour. She is a new girl. She is a cool girl.  

It’s not that Addison Rae has never been seen as a sexual woman before. She was attached to Bryce Hall, she posed in bikini ads, and she was the subject of a song which called her a bad bitch. It’s the implication of her establishing herself as a sexual young woman which calls back to the women who came before her. And being a woman whose sexuality belongs to her can be a scary thing. 

Women, and women alone, have the power to produce human life.* When a person has that much power, it can be threatening to the systems which seek to maintain control. A woman who owns her sexuality then owns herself beyond the confining rules of the patriarchy. 

Addison Rae, like all individuals in the public eye, is a brand. Through “Diet Pepsi,” she tells the world that she owns her image. She owns herself. This might make her the coolest girl of all.  

*Trans men, nonbinary people, and any other person with a uterus are also capable of producing human life, but for the purpose of effect and in order to highlight the history of violence and oppression against women, I chose to use the word woman here.