Photo : Frazer Harrison ( Getty Images ) I’m going to make this quick, because this Nicki Minaj Elle cover, photo spread and article have already been thinkpieced to death on Twitter and in private conversations I’ve had with friends and colleagues. I don’t want to add to the mire; I just want to say a few things. Advertisement First of all, let’s keep it real. A black woman on the cover of a major [white] fashion and lifestyle magazine is a big deal. Our inclusion in these outlets is tenuous and conditional, so each time we are seen—as Nicki is here—delivering our authentic personalities and being our authentic selves, it is something to celebrate. Much ado has been made about one of the photos that shows celebrity hairstylist Kim Kimble—a darker-skinned black woman—tending to the hair of Nicki—a lighter-skinned black woman. Maiysha Kai, managing editor of The Glow Up, did an excellent job of breaking it down and representing all sides of the argument. I am not a darker-skinned woman, so I cannot say what they may feel when they see the image. I’ve seen the arguments on both sides. I will say that there is nuance. Someone who doesn’t understand us or our culture may see it a lot differently, and perhaps that it what a lot of people are feeling when they look at it. Ultimately, I think if Kim and Nicki are OK with the image, then I can let that be. And that definitely appears to be the case. Advertisement Full disclosure: I am admittedly not a Nicki fan. I don’t dislike her; I am just not a Barbie. She’s had some decent features and rhymes, and most of them have included some version of her talking about sex, her pussy, her ass, her body, etc. She has the sexy rapper thing down to a ‘T.’ So imagine my surprise when I read the article and saw her slut shaming so-called “Instagram girls,” strippers prostitutes. She says one of the messages on her new album is that it is “okay to keep your legs closed.” Advertisement From Elle: “Maybe I was naïve, but I didn’t realize how many girls were modern-day prostitutes,” she begins. “Whether you’re a stripper, or whether you’re an Instagram girl—these girls are so beautiful and they have so much to offer. But I started finding out that you give them a couple thousand dollars, and you can have sex with them. I was like, Yikes. It’s just sad that they don’t know their worth. It makes me sad as a woman. And it makes me sad that maybe I’ve contributed to that in some way.” Advertisement She goes on to say that she’s not selling sex, she’s selling sex appeal. Gif : Giphy Advertisement OK, girl. You should have just sat there and ate your food. In the same article, Nicki reveals that she is single for the first time since she was 15 years old (she’s in her mid-thirties now), and it’s obvious that her time alone with her vagina has been reflective and change-inducing. On her new album, Queen, she raps “abstaining from sex had to zen my body. I ain’t giving, so don’t ask, I don’t lend my body. He gotta be king status to get in my body.” Advertisement But much like a newly-saved born again Christian, Nicki is out there trying to preach a gospel she clearly hasn’t fully learned herself—and turning her nose up at others who haven’t joined the church with her as she’s doing it. Just say you are moving out of your personal ho phase and go. You shouldn’t have to subtly drag other women as you do it. Your “new pussy, new me” experience isn’t even a year old yet. What if you change your mind? Advertisement My point is, you can decide that you no longer want to sell sex sex appeal yourself while still remaining entire respectful toward the many women who do choose to sell sex, sex appeal or a combination of both. Those two things can happen at the same time because we are individuals, and as individuals, we get to make our own choices. As long as those choices aren’t harming anyone else, what does it matter? My three rules for life apply here for Ms. Minaj:<doc-sep>Nicki Minaj is flying solo for the first time since she was 15 years old. “It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever been single. I remember feeling like I could do anything at one time in my life and somewhere along the line, I just started second guessing myself for whatever reason,” the “Chun Li” rapper told Elle magazine’s July issue. Minaj, 35, recently split from fellow rapper Nas and has joked about dating Eminem. “Becoming single was one of the things that made me feel strong and powerful,” she explained. “The fact that I am a young woman who doesn’t need a man for money. I don’t need a man for a job. I’ve never had to f—k for beats. I’ve never had to f—k for a record deal. I don’t have those pressures. I get up when I want, shop when I want.” Though Minaj admits that she loves flaunting her own sex appeal and embraces her exhibitionism, she admitted that she feels guilt for what she believes may have been inadvertently promoting what she calls “modern-day prostitutes” on social media and in strip clubs. “Whether you’re a stripper, or whether you’re an Instagram girl — these girls are so beautiful and they have so much to offer,” she said. “But I started finding out that you give them a couple thousand dollars, and you can have sex with them. I was like, ‘Yikes.’ It’s just sad that they don’t know their worth. It makes me sad as a woman. And it makes me sad that maybe I’ve contributed to that in some way … I can’t look down on these girls. I may not be having sex with people, but I’m selling sex appeal.” She added, “I just don’t know if girls who look up to me think that when I’m posting a sexy picture. I’m actually the antithesis of all of that. I’m more of, like, the snobby girl, like the ‘Uh, what?’ type of girl. And I want girls to be like that. I’d rather you be called snobby or a bitch or conceited — I’d rather you be called that than easy, and a ho, and a slut.”<doc-sep>Elle When news broke that Nicki Minaj was covering July’s issue of Elle magazine, photographed by Chanel head of house Karl Lagerfeld, all fashion-loving (and Nicki-loving) eyes instantly turned to the internet to see what provocative imagery the rap star would be serving this time around. Advertisement But as it turns out, the most-talked-about picture in the high-fashion spread featured a very-covered-up Minaj in the process of having her floor-length extensions groomed by celebrity stylist Kim Kimble. To some, it was a striking image of two extremely successful black women at the top of their respective games, captured by a legendary designer and photographer for one of the top fashion magazines in the world. To others, the dynamics of the image seemed instantly problematic: When writer Myles E. Johnson (who has written for The Root) tweeted his criticism concerning the image, he sparked a heated debate about colorism, stereotypes, privilege and whether all of the above are occasionally in the eye of the beholder. While his initial tweet lacked specific context (he would later subtweet that it was a “white supremacist image”), the assumption was that he took issue with the image of a well-heeled, straight-haired Minaj being groomed by the darker-skinned and braided Kimble, wearing her work clothes. While some agreed, others weren’t so readily accepting of his hot take: Advertisement Advertisement Advertisement So, which is it? Is it a portrait of two thriving black female creatives at work—Kim Kimble, in particular, doing what she does best (and wearing her beauty tool belt, to boot)? Or is it an obvious play on “mammy” imagery and stereotypes, insultingly casting the darker-skinned Kimble in the role of stooped servant to her lighter-skinned mistress, Nicki Minaj? Unfortunately, the definitive answer lies with Lagerfeld, who, according to Minaj herself, asked Kimble to stay in the shot and, by extension, Elle magazine, which then opted to publish said shot. Advertisement Would Lagerfeld have found the shot as striking if Minaj’s stylist had been a white woman (or man)—or even a lighter-skinned black woman? We’d like to think so. Would such a shot have been published if Minaj were a white woman? Admittedly, we’d like to think not. Because yes: The optics here are potentially fraught with meaning—if you’re looking for it. Frankly, we’d like to think that what Lagerfeld found most appealing about capturing this moment was the almost surreal line created by Kimble’s hold on Minaj’s extensions, almost evoking the sense of Minaj being a show pony to be reined in (but that’s a horse of an entirely different color, pun intended). Advertisement It’s also worth asking how much more or less loaded this image would be if taken by a black photographer and hanging in a museum, rather than by a white photographer for a magazine spread. Would the colorism be undeniably inherent if viewed through an entirely black lens (as one could argue Johnson was using)? Or is a successful, self-made black woman like Kimble entitled to show up and be captured doing her job (very well) without having anything further projected onto her? Is she obligated to represent anything more than her own talent simply because she is dark-skinned? Is there space for both of these examples of black womanhood to coexist without one automatically being assumed inferior? Advertisement The controversy was not lost on Minaj, who sought to clarify the issue by reporting (via Instagram) that Kimble was “thrilled” to be included in the shot (co-signed by Kimble via repost), joining Minaj in “screaming and spazzing out” after it was taken. In my own decadeslong experience in the industry, most beauty professionals, however talented, well-known or successful, rarely get the opportunity to have a moment in the spotlight—and, therefore, often jump at the chance when they do. It feels a shame that Kimble isn’t allowed the agency to do the same without her image being instantly associated with denigration. Advertisement Because in the end, Kimble’s opinion of the shot might be the most important (or should be). Regardless of how the optics may subjectively read to the viewer (because it’s all subjective), like Minaj, Kimble is a grown woman and self-made millionaire who was proud to take part in that image, doing her life’s work. Advertisement Perhaps the most “woke” thing we can do is let her enjoy that moment, instead of attempting to project her into a lesser one.<doc-sep>
Screenshot : Karl Lagerfeld ( Elle magazine/Hachette Filipacchi Médias ) Let’s be real: All you bitches wanna look like me Wanna be in demand, get booked like me Wanna run up in the lab and cook like me Honestly? As flawless as Nicki Minaj looks on the cover of July’s Elle magazine, we think she’s answered her own lyrical question. The megastar rapper, returning from a four-year hiatus with her new album, Queen (due out Aug. 10), looks positively regal in Versace on the cover, photographed by legendary fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld. “I wanted to cry,” Minaj said of being shot by Lagerfeld, who is the creative director of famed French fashion house Chanel. “All I do is wear Chanel.” The rapper, who rocked floor-length extensions during the shoot styled by hair maven Kim Kimble, said that she and Lagerfeld bonded during the shoot, which took place in April in Paris and features several photos of the two posing together. He made himself so available to me. I thought he was going to be a snob, but in fact, he was so personable, looking me in my eyes and asking me, ‘Do you like this? ... I was like, Oh my God, I couldn’t … it felt like a dream. Minaj, who faced several cries of cultural appropriation with her recent single, “Chun Li,” also demurely dished on Meek Mill and Cardi B and why, on her new album, she has veered away from perpetuating the “trap” sound that has become ubiquitous with hip-hop: I feel like true icons shift music, uplift music, switch music, have the balls to take a chance. ... The things that people do come so easy to me. I could do it in my sleep. But I’m such a perfectionist that when something is too easy to me, I actually feel guilty. It would’ve been so easy to listen to all the trap music out there right now and say, “Let me just copy this,” but I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.” Minaj, who poses on her new album cover wearing only elaborate, Egyptian-inspired jewelry, also talks about her sexually charged persona, telling Elle, “I love being sexy; I’m never gonna stop being an exhibitionist.” But ironically, she also expresses regret about how it may influence her female followers. She refers to strippers and Instagram girls as “modern-day prostitutes” after hearing rumors that some may dabble in sex work: I was like, Yikes. It’s just sad that they don’t know their worth. It makes me sad as a woman. And it makes me sad that maybe I’ve contributed to that in some way. ... I just don’t know if girls who look up to me think that when I’m posting a sexy picture. I’m actually the antithesis of all of that. I’m more of, like, the snobby girl, like the ‘Uh, what’ type of girl. And I want girls to be like that. I’d rather you be called snobby or a bitch or conceited—I’d rather you be called that than easy, and a ho, and a slut. Ever controversial, sometimes contradictory and often a study in contrasts, Minaj is, more than anything, a boss. (We’re reserving judgment on that self-designated “queen” status until we hear her new album; “I really think it’s going to be the best album of the year,” she said.) She expresses as much to Elle, saying that her newfound independence has been the key to tapping into her power as a woman: Becoming single was one of the things that made me feel strong and powerful. The fact that I am a young woman who doesn’t need a man for money. I don’t need a man for a job. I’ve never had to fuck for beats. I’ve never had to fuck for a record deal. I don’t have those pressures. I get up when I want, shop when I want. The Glow Up tip: Nicki Minaj’s Queen is due out Aug. 10.