Frontline’s Ira Alecia Gardner explores the expectations women in hip-hop face when it comes to maintaining the spotlight, and how music videos and upholding a certain image contribute to their success.
‘Sex sells’ has been an adage in entertainment for years, and its presence within the music industry is clear and ever-present. From pop to rock to R&B, and from Madonna to Prince to Mick Jagger, musicians have historically been deemed ‘sex symbols’, and while sexualisation exists in these genres for both men and women, it’s within hip-hop it seems to be female-focused, with image playing a significant role in their career.
In an interview with NPR in 2019, Rapsody touched on the comments she would see in regards to her appearance and how it may affect her perceived success or reach in the mainstream. ‘To be seen as successful on a mainstream level, people feel like women in hip-hop have to be super sexy,’ she explains. ‘Everybody has to look the same. I read comments all the time like, “Yo, Rap is dope, but she’s never going to make it because she don’t sell herself. She don’t sell her body”’.
After sharing her gratitude for the support of her re-released mixtape Beam Me Up Scotty on Instagram, Nicki Minaj also acknowledged that for many women in hip-hop, engagement is driven by music videos, explaining how they are ‘the biggest push for females, myself included’.
Releasing a single for female rappers usually means a campaign driven by a big-budget video (often with sexually suggestive undertones), rather than dropping visuals as an add-on, to embellish a track after fans have enjoyed the lyricism and made a sonic connection.
Music videos have always played an important part in engagement and provided a further method for listeners to connect with the song and artist. However, where streaming has become the main source of music consumption, videos now serve a larger purpose, more than just providing a visual aide alongside a song. This has lead to a level of expectation when it comes to the standards and conventions of a music video, particularly when it comes to female artists.
Megan Thee Stallion, an undeniably talented rapper, has released a barrage of freestyle videos, exclusively on YouTube, including her #MeganMondays visuals, which have contributed to her popularity. However, these expressions of raw talent and ability rarely gain as many views as her big production videos. For example, her Southside Freestyle gained 13m views in six months, while Thot Shit generated more than 24m in just two months.
Whether it’s the ‘out of the box’ creativity we see with the likes of Tierra Whack, or the range of styles and choreography we see from Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion, visuals are expected to be of a certain standard, and it’s usually the latter that racks up more views and engagement.
As a single alone, WAP, a collaboration between Cardi B and Megan, two of the mainstream’s most popular rappers, would have received a lot of attention, but the video and sexually explicit content was what guaranteed engagement, helping it make the headlines.
Breaking records as the largest female collaboration on YouTube, with 26 million views in one day, the numbers kept climbing and the more controversy and conversation that came, the more people felt inclined to watch the video.
Conservative political commentator Ben Shapiro’s infamous reaction to the WAP lyrics sparked a flurry of memes and more reactions, with some claiming his distaste was just a way to cover up a guilty pleasure of wanting to watch the video – an idea Megan toyed with at the beginning of her Thot Shit video.
Looking at some of the most popular rappers right now, including Cardi B and Saweetie, there’s also a certain image upheld alongside their music. Frequent personal posts on Instagram, ‘sexier’ clothing, and the sharing of their expenses with supporters and followers, creates the image of the ‘bad bitch’ lifestyle, and their music videos reflect the same.
The double-edged sword and conversation surrounding appearance and respect for women in hip-hop consequently then resurfaces, attempting to cut down and reduce their talent. For example, when Megan Thee Stallion began to gain a following, there were numerous comments deeming her appearance as the number one or only reason for her growing audience.
On the other hand, just before the release of the XXL Freshman Freestyles in 2020, Chika’s talent and inclusion as one of the Freshmen Class was undermined, based on her appearance and her not conforming to the ‘sexier’ image.
Mainstream rappers today are balancing on a fine line between what is considered sexual liberation and exploitation. From the treatment of Saartjie (AKA Sara/Sarah Baartman) for her body, which would be desired today, to the features many hold that are far from Eurocentric and in-turn viewed as ‘unattractive’, black women’s position in society (particularly when it comes to social desirability) has been negative. So, for some, the rise in music performed by black women, which is encouraging a lifestyle of good sex and lots of money, is empowering.
For others, the popularity of the music and image exhibited is just a regurgitated version of the patriarchy and colourism that has long been upheld in society and rap music, reinforcing that black women are only deemed as attractive when in a sexual nature. Tierra Whack, Chika and Noname are just a few of the rappers producing music with the lyrical and musical content so many claim to be desperate to hear, so why are their streams not reaching the same heights as artists like Megan Thee Stallion, whose musical talent has been questioned and undermined?
In an article for Harper’s Bazaar, Taylor Crumpton claimed Megan Thee Stallion has ‘accomplished world-wide success’ and is celebrated for her ‘explicit lyrics that put women in power, catering to their satisfaction and fulfillment as she raps about her “player ways” and “skimpy clothes.”’ However, she explained that ‘through a patriarchal lens, men in hip-hop seek to reconstruct her lyrics of empowerment as justification for objectifying her body as a holding place of male desire, rage, and violence’.
Though some take up an issue with rappers revealing either ‘too much’ or ‘too little’ of themselves, or for being ‘too serious’ or ‘too shallow’, the conversation should perhaps focus more on why the variety of rappers we have today cannot exist in their own space and attain similar achievements simultaneously.
In the past, the likes of Queen Latifah, Ms Lauryn Hill and MC Lyte were making music and reaching the charts at the same time as Lil Kim, Foxy Brown and Trina. Each rapper had their own sound, style and audience, but existed alongside each other, reaching high levels of popularity and success and inspiring other women in the process.
Words: Ira Alecia Gardner


