The Chillest Girl In The World

Two pop stars, one feud, and the ever-present burden of “chill”

"I don’t have beef with anyone…I’m very chill. I keep to myself. I have my four friends and my mom, and that’s really the only people I talk to, ever.”

- Olivia Rodrigo 

I am about to do something very unchill. I am about to tell you all the ways I’ve been unchill, whilst promoting a sweatshirt I made to commemorate this behavior. 

Here is the sweatshirt:

It’s available until the end of the day today, September 19th. I’ll probably offer it again, I just don’t know when. I’m doing a pre-order system, which helps me manage inventory. So, if you’re interested, buy one now. They’re cozy and make great gifts. (Cheers to early holiday shopping.)

Phew. I’m glad I got that out of the way. The thing about being a woman and making art is that it feels as if we’re not supposed to act like we’re selling it. We’re supposed to be humble, innocent, and above all, chill. Any success should be the result of quiet, unseen diligence rather than savviness, or, heaven forbid, manipulation. The female manipulator is the most loathed figure in history. I have resisted so many instincts toward power and fulfillment out of the fear of seeming calculating. 

I drew The Chillest Girl in The World sometime in 2018. It was submitted as a gag cartoon to The New Yorker and was rejected. Instead of punching it up and trying to resubmit it, I immediately put it on Instagram. This behavior could be categorized any number of ways, but “chill” is definitely not one of them. 

She was drawn in desperation, where all my best art begins. She’s waiting. It’s fine. No, really, it’s fine! She’ll just have four more glasses of wine and smoke another menthol. She’s relaxed. She’s cool. She’s the Chillest Girl in The World.

To me, she was a nod to the impossibility of chillness. I’ll be chill when I’m dead, she says. And, candidly, she was a way for me to laugh about the years I starved myself, physically and emotionally, in an effort to belong.

By the time I drew The Chillest Girl, I was on a roll. I’d discovered that sharing my wants and fears and insecurities felt better than hiding them. I published a number of unhinged humor pieces around this time, all quite stalker-y in nature. I wrote about the people who I imagined were looking at my LinkedIn page, about creeping on various ex’s venmo charges, about obsessing over Timothée Chalamet. These were all attempts to self-express, to ha-ha my way out of yearning and heartbreak and dreaminess. They were irrevocably unchill, and are still among the work that makes me most proud.

The piece was called “Timothée Chalamet Made Me Do It”

Chill is hard to define, but I think, in a modern context, it has a couple of facets. First, there’s the maintenance part. Chill girls are decidedly low-maintenance. They travel light. They go with the flow. They don’t sleep with 10 pillows covering their body every night. (That would be me.) 

Harry was quick to point this out to Sally. You might remember the scene. They’re watching Casablanca together, but separate. 

Harry: “Ooo, Ingrid Bergman. Now she’s low maintenance.” 

Sally: “Low maintenance?”

Harry: “There are two kinds of women, high-maintenance and low-maintenance.” 

Sally: “Which one am I?”

Harry: “You’re the worst kind. You’re high-maintenance but you think you’re low maintenance.” 

I am high maintenance and, reluctantly, after many many years, know I’m high maintenance. 

The second chill-factor is nonchalance. Chill girls get over it. The joke doesn’t offend. The rejection doesn’t matter. She lets it go. She moves on.

It’s not very chill to hold onto things, but holding onto things is one of my greatest talents. I’ll remember slights and fights and mean comments from middle school. In an effort to record what happened and be done with it, I started journaling religiously in my 20s. But this only made the memories stronger and more attractive. Letting go, I realized, was not an option for me. In fact, I’m suspicious of whether this process even exists.

Finally, it’s certainly not chill to want validation. That’s probably the cardinal rule of chill. Do not seem like you need much. Do not seem bothered. Be confident, be independent, be nonplussed. Wait, actually, don’t be that. I thought “nonplussed” meant something else. Shit, I’m being unchill again, aren’t I?

***

Which brings us to why you clicked on this essay. The pop stars! The feud! Was it a marketing ploy to include them in the subtitle? Was that cheap, snakey, uncool? Maybe!

The alleged tension is between Olivia Rodrigo and Taylor Swift. (Yes, I am aware that I wrote about Taylor Swift mere weeks ago. This is who I am.) These women are 20 and 33 years old, respectively. Each writes music about her personal experiences with fame, art, and love.

The story goes like this: Olivia admires Taylor. Says she was influenced by her. Taylor is impressed by Olivia. She offers her support and becomes a mentor of sorts. Olivia is starstruck and validated.

Then, some time later, Olivia writes songs that, in some peoples’ opinion, sound a little too much like Taylor’s. Taylor asserts her dominance. Olivia is forced to split royalties.

So, yeah, Taylor Swift gets paid every time Olivia Rodrigo’s song “deja vu,” is played, because Swift’s team thought it ripped off her hit “Cruel Summer.” Recently, there’s been speculation that a handful of songs on Rodrigo’s sophomore album, “GUTS,” are directed at Swift. Songs with titles like “the grudge,” and with lyrics like “You built me up to watch me fall/ You have everything, and you still want more.” (Go ahead and listen to GUTS, by the way. It’s the album I wish I had when I was her age.)

Rodrigo skirted around the rumors. You’ll remember the quote: "I don’t have beef with anyone…I’m very chill.”

“I’m very chill” is not something a chill person says. Yet, the burden of chillness has descended upon Olivia Rodrigo. It makes sense; she’s in her early 20s. This is about when it happens. Chill is an awful cross to bear, and interestingly, it’s one that Taylor Swift cast off years ago. She faced the same pressure. “My life doesn’t gravitate toward being edgy, sexy, or cool” she said in an 2015 interview. “I just naturally am not any of those things. I’m imaginative, I’m smart, and I’m hard working. And those things aren’t necessarily prioritized in pop culture.”

But I would argue that, eight years later, those things are beginning to gain traction in pop culture, and culture at large. I would argue that it’s this very unchillness, which is actually synonymous with caring, with giving a shit, with openly expressing your wants and hurts, that’s made both these women so successful.

Also, perhaps, some savviness. Some manipulation.

Either way, great art doesn’t come from being cool and collected. Great art comes from living in an imperfect world with imperfect people, and expressing what that feels like, imperfectly.

And the pursuit of chillness? In my view, it can go one of two ways. You either be drowned in its smallness, or you use it as a lifeboat. A tool for self-expression. You can either become the skeleton at the bar, patiently waiting for a savior who will never arrive, or, mock the very idea of letting anyone else decide your fate, proudly donning that skeleton on your chest.