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Dear Meghan Trainor: Here's Why "Dear Future Husband" Sucks
She's championing an obnoxiously high-maintenance, heteronormative pipe nightmare poorly disguised as a swirly rainbow lollipop of girl power.
- Marci
- \a·\a
In the last 24 hours, unless you live in a scientifically anomalous forcefield that protects you from the absolute worst of pop culture, you have, at the very least, gotten wind of Meghan Trainor's new single, "Dear Future Husband," and the video that goes along with it. Perhaps you've read professional and casual critiques (and maybe even defense, or even
celebration) of "Dear Future Husband." Perhaps you've even — heaven forbid — listened to
and watched
"Dear Future Husband."
But just in case, here's Meghan's third and least color-coordinated music video from her debut album,
Title:
Are you confused? I'm confused. I was in my elementary school's prestigious gifted program, but even with that pedigree, I have no idea what just happened.
And yet, despite this confusion, I'm somehow angry. My brain recognizes that a crime has been committed against music, gender equality, the partially formed brains of society's youth; but up until now, I have been too dumbfounded over this tripe to construct sentences about it.
I think I'm ready now. Hold my hand?
OK, so this is at least the second time Meghan Trainor has dabbled in what momentarily seems like an anthem of female empowerment and self-confidence only to undermine her own message with contradictory lyrics. In her breakout hit, "All About That Bass" (which is currently being used in a
diaper commercial, and that weirds me out), Meggers is proud to have a curvy body, but she just can't seem to spit out the self-assured lyrics without spitting
on
skinny women. This time around, she's championing what I can only describe as an obnoxiously high-maintenance, heteronormative pipe nightmare poorly disguised as a swirly rainbow lollipop of girl power.
I think I'm gonna have to break down the lyrics. Ready?
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OK, stop.
The title and first line of the song are hugely problematic. This premise is upsetting, to say the least. The assumption that she's going to get married (I mean, it's just what normal people do, right?), the impersonality, the putting-the-cart-before-the-horse-ness of it all — it doesn't sit well with me.
There's nothing wrong with wanting to get married, even before you know who you want to marry. But the idea of writing a figurative letter to an undetermined future husband feels like a big, creepy step past subscribing to bridal magazines when you're in high school.
Screw
your
wants and needs, dude.
Wait — are we talking about dating or marriage? And you
deserve
a date? You're not owed
a date, especially not with that presumptuous attitude.
It's apparently more important for Future Husband — henceforth referred to as FuHu — to follow directions than to be creative and generous on his own.
I realize that women are the primary consumers
in the vast majority of households, but buying groceries is what makes a wife perfect? That benchmark is as low as it is sexist.
During this fleeting lyrical moment of women's lib, Meghan is shown in the video dressed in retro housewife garb, scrubbing a kitchen floor with no indication of irony.
In other words, don't just put up with behavioral bullshit — reward it.
So, Meghan's biggest turn on is ego-stroking. Noted. I can just see how this nightly conversation would go:
FuHu: "Honey, can we have sex tonight?"
MegTra: "I don't know. Can we?"
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FuHu: "You're beautiful."
MegTra: "Put it in me!"
Correction: Meghan's biggest turn-on is groveling.
Seriously, though — even though no woman (no
person) should feel pressure to have sex when they don't want to, it's all sorts of messed up to dangle sex like a carrot in front of your partner until they yield to your self-righteousness.
Speaking of self-righteousness...
My favorite thing about the phrase "I'm never wrong" is that it's
always
wrong.
Estrangement is soooo romantic.
Don't almost say "head" and then scold the poor dude for finishing the sentence the way anyone would! Also, I know plenty of classy guys with dirty minds; they're not mutually exclusive.
Listen, there's nothing wrong with wanting an engagement ring, but demanding it? In addition to that being awfully overbearing, you're sucking all of the romance and spontaneity out of this future marriage. You're only cheating yourself.
So, after repeating some of her dictates, Meghan wraps up her song with . . .
But everything she's sung is oh so wrong.
I'm all for having standards. Pro-standards, that's me. But these aren't standards. This is a sloppily decoupaged ransom note to a hypothetical man whose dignity is being held hostage.
The worst part, though, is how its presented as something women could unironically embrace — and bop along to, because it's so darn catchy — as realistic, respectable, and even feminist. Did someone tell Meghan Trainor that feminism is unchecked, unconditionally rewarded female chauvinism and disrespect for men? This song is the musical equivalent of the "I have tits; give me free stuff" meme.
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When
TIME
asked her about "Dear Future Husband" months before yesterday's video premiere, Meghan said, "I hope people can hear my songs and know I’m a badass girl and I deserve a good guy to take me out on a date." But that's not even close to what I hear in the lyrics.
And the lyrics are not even close to what I want her impressionable, young fans — and some impressionable older ones, too — to construe as a healthy relationship and a sound form of female empowerment.