Pop provocateur Charli XCX has ignited a fierce cultural debate with a deeply personal Substack essay, leaving fans and critics divided over whether her musings are profound or profoundly self-obsessed.
The Brat Summer Hangover
Published on December 17, 2025, the essay titled 'The Death of Cool' serves as a companion piece to an interview about her satirical Brat summer film, The Moment. The 33-year-old artist, who defined 2024 with the viral 'lime green Brat summer', turns existential, questioning whether something can retain its coolness after mass commercialisation.
Charli reflects on the runaway success of her 'Brat' era, which saw its anti-perfectionist aesthetic adopted everywhere from TikTok dances to Kamala Harris's US presidential campaign. She grapples with how the movement's essence was diluted as it exploded beyond her control, replicated by brands until it felt "broad, passé, boring."
"I have always rejected the idea that art, film, persona or music becoming commercial means it cannot also be considered cool," she wrote, criticising an "art school" disdain for popularity. Yet, she simultaneously argues that applying a "'something for everyone' approach" is precisely where coolness dies.
A Wave of Criticism and Defence
The online reaction was swift and polarised. A TikTok user, bosnianfivehead, whose critique amassed over 34,000 likes, branded the essay "vapid, almost conceited, and far too self-referential." Others labelled it "navel-gazing" and argued that Charli's premise—that Brat was objectively cool—was flawed, especially given the term's origins in post-World War II Black jazz culture as a form of social resistance.
However, defenders saw value in the raw introspection. On Reddit, user duochromepalmtree called it "a unique experience" worth sharing, while others urged critics to view it as a stream-of-consciousness diary entry, not a formal thesis.
The Unanswered Questions of Cool
Ultimately, Charli's essay raises compelling questions about art, authenticity, and commodification without providing neat answers. She admits her own obsession with being "fascinating 24/7" stems from a "fear of being boring," and concludes by wondering if, with the right confidence, "anything can be cool."
The debate highlights a central tension: when an artist releases work, it takes on a life of its own. While commercial distortion may irritate the creator, it doesn't erase a fan's personal, powerful connection to the art itself. Charli's vulnerability in wrestling with this paradox, despite accusations of vanity, offers a rare glimpse into the mind of a modern pop star at the peak of her cultural influence.
