Do we even need to ask how she’s feelin’?
In the same news cycle that featured the 31-year-old singer twerking in a thong at a Lakers game and releasing a music video that literally trumpets black excellence, Lizzo earned a top spot in Time‘s annual Person of the Year rankings.
Her cover image, shot by Paola Kudacki, is instantly iconic. It’s Lizzo in her truest form, which I like to think is part disco ball and part deity. Her voluminous, sparkling Mary Katrantzou gown (or may we respectfully call it by its true name, sack of pure glamour?) evokes the globe, wholeness, oneness, eternity! Her arms are in the gesture Eva Perón would do if she took up yoga. Her pointed kitten heel has been flicked off, like Lizzo is Cinderella and we’re all a bunch of Prince Charmings in hot pursuit.
The accompanying article about her, by essayist Samantha Irby, is filled with the instant-jolt-of-empowerment quotes Lizzo has a genius for tossing off. “I think it’s healthy to have a relationship with your naked body, even if no one ever sees it,” she says. “But I’ve always felt the need to share it.” In the piece, she talks about the vulnerability of experiencing fame in an especially highly scrutinized body. “I need to fall back in love with my body,” she proclaims, before adding, re: fame, “I just want to go to the farmers market.”
We will go to the farmers market with you, Lizzo. We will fetch you organic beeswax candles and fend off rabid fans with bundles of fresh leeks. We will carry your reusable tote bag.
She also tries to answer the question we’ve all been asking our therapists—where has Lizzo been all our lives? Why did she seem to appear out of nowhere, when she clearly has the star power of a major celebrity? Who has been keeping her from us?