Sorry Miley Cyrus, But You’re Not Ratchet

Her dad is Billy Ray Cyrus, for a start.

Watching Miley Cyrus is like witnessing an identity crisis in real time. In the past few years she’s evolved from a Disney Channel mainstay looking for her first party in the USA, to a twerking Justin Bieber look-alike with about as much personality as a slogan-led t-shirt from IT’S A HOT SHOP FOR COOL PEOPLE...LOLZ!

I’m not sure who Miles is beyond an internet meme and I’m not sure that, beyond choosing which artist to ape next, even she knows. But, I am sure that she wants to be ratchet, a term that’s been floating around long before the first COMME DES FUCKDOWN beanie appeared on a #nofilter Instagram account.

Lil’ Millz isn’t just begging to put her postmark on a lower level A$AP member’s penis; she’s probably paying a team of intern graduates to craft her into a living breathing version of #raptwitter, which makes it all the more disappointing that there are GCSE students with more legitimate credentials. I’m sorry Miley Ray Cyrus, you’re not ratchet and you’re never going to be.

Because I know that someone has meticulously thought about it – Cyrus is a multi-million dollar vehicle, of course she can pay someone to think up her own five-year plan - I’m going to outline the things that Miley thinks are ratchet, and shoot them down, one by one, just because I can.


The first port of call for any child star looking to cast off the chastity belt from their previous career as a butter-wouldn’t-melt underling of the Disney corporation, is a choreographed sexualisation that takes place in the pages of TMZ. Underwear averse Lindsay Lohan splayed her spam purse for the world to see. Justin Bieber started gobbing phlegm on the fans that made him. Both solid moves. But for Miley, the best slutitzvah she could come up with was a YouTube clip of her twerking, which is the dumbest dance move since someone allowed DJ Casper to dictate the rules. Sure, if you’re on the dancefloor, then there’s nothing wrong with delving into a portmanteau of jerking and twisting. But dressing up in a kigu and filming yourself having a batty wind in front a white background? That’s surely the commercial equivalent of tweeting about how you’re hanging from a vomcano worth of jagerbombs, just to prove that you’re a wild party guy who never stays in. At least Britney had the decency to shave her head and not tell anyone about it, AMIRITE?


In 2010, a video of Miley huffing the readily available and entirely legal drug salvia, appeared on the internet. Salvia, of course, being the Fisher Price My-First-Hallucinogen for every teenager that’s already choked on a nutmeg zoot and tried sniffing magic markers. What kind of person lets their friends film them taking drugs? Miley thinks she looks like Snoop, bathing in a Roman Spa full of bud, when in fact she comes across like a thirsty teen on the blag at a house party who’ll probably be locked in the bathroom in deep mental anguish after two tokes on a bigger boy’s bifta. C’mon Miley, you’ll never find yourself balancing on Juicy J’s pogo stick until you can bootstrap an L after hitting a cup of Weezy’s drink of choice. Ramp up your game girlfriend!


In her video for “We Can’t Stop” M Ceezy sings the lyric “dancing with Molly”. Which, if you’re of an age at which you’re allowed to make your own toast, means exactly what you think it means. But, when interviewed by Rolling Stone, Miley refuted the claim stating: “I have an accent! So when I say ‘Miley’ it may sound like ‘Molly’”. Yeah, and my drug dealer sells me cold baked beans. It can also be translated as an enigmatic way of saying, I’m so wild’n’out that my statements to press are controlled by a management team. A month later, though, she backtracked and admitted that, yes, “If you know what I’m talking about, then you know”. But, still. Have the balls to follow through with what you’re saying, you know? Otherwise it all comes off as fastidious self branding without any legitimacy.


Except, she isn’t. It’s mildly fair enough if Miley wants to confirm to the world that she can pop her ass, try to take a hit, or dress like the idiots that frequent the DOs and DON'Ts. But, her video for “We Can’t Stop” is the grossest cultural appropriation since girls started wearing bindis at V Festival. Instead of being inspired by, or cross pollinating with culture, which is what building your own image is about, Miley nit-picks and re-styles herself on exact elements of another culture. Essentially, she creates the age old adage of being the white girl in charge. I’m not going to offensively get into it – Jezebel already threw a pretty impressive tantrum – but it is another great example of how Miley is trying to pass off something else as her own.


Is this hood? Or have I had enough internet for today?


Miley Cyrus likes to believe that she can keep it real. She’s met French Montana. She’s twerked on stage at a Juicy J show. But these are all safe, mediated, backstage meet’n’greets. This isn’t Lil Kim shacking up in Biggie’s crack den or Eminem popping a gun in a parking lot. This is the self-proclaimed baddest bitch to ever walk out of an Urban Outfitters trying to figure out how she can worm her way into the epicentre of the culture that she’s trying to ape. But, put her in Compton, or a seedy ecstacy fuelled rave in a Harlem bedsit and she’ll be scared shitless. In the words of all your heroes Miley, either go hard or go home.


Follow Ryan on Twitter @RyanBassil

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